The place we were going was the center of the forest, and it was the place that hikers were usually going missing.
As kids we called it no man's land.
No one was really talking about it, but there were rumors that in the center of the forest, something was up—some sort of Bermuda Triangle or it was haunted.
And considering what I was going for right now, I wasn't completely rejecting the idea. Whenever I suggested to Jacks come with us to the search party, he was half in and half out. On one hand, he didn't want me to go there alone, even though we had others in the search party. Not that I didn't like the chivalrous side of him, but it's weird as hell.
But every time I came up with the suggestion, he had that strange look of fear about him. Maybe it was haunted.
I didn't care if it was haunted or if a million ghosts came up and attacked me. I needed Jacks out of my life for good.
He didn't know yet how much it ached for me to see him all the fucking time. Now every time I think about it, I could go back to that moment when he called me a whore and told me to be on my knees.
I just needed him to go away, but a part of me didn't want him to be in this form as a ghost. I wanted him to be alive out there. Staying the fuck away from me, not fucking miserable all the time. This walk in the woods was starting to be really fucking annoying. Everytime my knees started to buckle by the time we made the pit stop.
Duncan cut me a glance. I think he wanted me to talk to him. Probably curious about how I knew that all the other spots we didn't look at weren't possibly the place where we're looking for.
So I stayed the hell out of his way. I didn't need him to ask me any questions. Plus there was the whole "Why would I be so invested in finding a random jock's dead body?"
It wasn't like me and Jacks were close. Yeah, I knew him, and he knew of me, but we weren't in the same social circles. He was out of my league.
I figured if anyone asked, I could just tell them that I felt bad because I was hosting the party that he had gone missing at, so I felt responsible. I leaned over a rock, and Duncan handed me a bottle of water, which I drank deeply from. I moved away from him, trying to create some distance, but he grew closer, glancing at Mr. Warner before he muttered, "I need your help."
I raise my eyebrows. "I know that you have been looking for him in your spare time. I've seen the map. It's filled off with crossed-off areas that we have never been to, so we should join forces." I opened my mouth to deny it, but then there was no reason to.
But I didn't need to know if he could be trusted. "Why are you so determined to know where he is? Isn't it like a little creepy?"
"I could say the same thing about you," he chastises me. I huffed, not really able to deny it, but there was a lot of intent in that sentence, as if he knew exactly why I was looking for him.
I slightly pushed up my head, looking at him, wondering if he was hoping to find him alive. Maybe he thought this whole thing was a waste of time, and he hoped that I would tell him otherwise, but I wasn't going to do that.
We continue up the path. I was hoping he would lay off me, but Duncan just upped his pace with mine, which was easy because the dude was huge—over a foot taller than me. "I didn't mean to embarrass you. I know why you're doing this."
My pulse fluttered faster for a whole different reason besides the exhausting walk. My denial was fast. "What do you mean?"
Duncan scan me, looking for something.
He shrugged. "You hosted the party he was at?" Didn't you?"
I hesitated, should I tell him? That was my plan, but now that I'm looking at him. I inch back from Mr. Warner, giving him a big girth.
I muttered under my breath. "I'm kind of feeling guilty about him dying at my party, so I joined the search party to help. It was the least I could do." I tried to seem nonchalant about the situation, but I could feel the lie between us. And for some reason you seem to see right through it, but he did not say anything.
Duncan shook his head. "Frankly, I don't believe he's dead."
I raised one eyebrow at him. "You know that's not very likely."
He moved his hand, cutting the air. "I know Jacks. He went wild, He always did it with us. With the guys, the team, or one of the girls he dated, never alone. And he always, always texted one of us when he woke up with a hangover."
My movements grew slower as his words turned more firm. "If he is gone missing, he would have gone anywhere that wasn't around people."
I tried to be gentle about it. I couldn't give him false hope like that. "Isn't it more likely than that he..."
He did not let me complete the sentence as he gave me one searing, angry look that could turn men into stones.
"Never mind," I muttered. He softened, "It isn't like it's the first time he went off the grid."
I didn't have the chance to ask what he meant by that because of what was held before my eyes. I stopped in my tracks, seeing hundreds—no. Thousands of ghosts, all trailing up and down the center of the woods.