Macy Diaz has managed childhood friend Jeb Porter’s crush for years. However, his infatuation turns to obsession, even putting a kid in the hospital just for hitting on her. In the past, Macy brushed it off, explained his bizarre acts away. But now she harbors a secret. She’s in love…with Jeb’s sister, Rachel.
By some miracle, Rachel loves Macy back, and despite the small minds polluting their sleepy southern town, they’re sticking together. Unfortunately, making sure Jeb never grows suspicious proves harder every day—until everything falls apart.
As a sick, unstable Jeb starts to threaten all Macy values, she is reminded of what has always been perfectly clear. Macy belongs to him, only him, and he won’t let her go. Ever.
If only Macy could’ve loved Jeb, she wouldn’t have to worry about surviving him now.
ExcerptAll right, don't do it. Don't say nothing stupid. But the last thing I wanted to talk about was her brother. "You know how Papaw and I go deep sea fishing every year? Near the gulf?"
Oh, damn. Too late.
She tilted her head as I held out my hand for the sketchpad. After another second of hesitation, she plopped it into my hands. "Yeah?"
I adjusted her back into the original pose and continued to draw. "Well, every year, when we're sitting on that boat in the middle of nowhere, I spend more time trying to get the right color blue on my pad than I do fishing." I kept my eyes on the drawing, my fingers shaking a bit. "You can't imagine how blue that water is. So clear, so deep…inviting. It takes all I got not to jump overboard and let it close over me. It's like a Siren. You know, how the Sirens sung those sailors to their death?"
I looked up long enough to watch her nod. Her fingers weren't twitching to cover her mouth anymore.
"Anyway, it's so perfect, the blue? Like nothing else I've ever seen." Here it comes, the nail in the coffin. "Except when I look in your eyes. That water's got nothing on your eyes, Rachel."
I became hyperaware. I heard the boys fighting and Ana calling them names. Listened to Jackson burp and give his opinion on starting fires, too. I also heard Rachel's screaming silence. Nothing was as loud as that silence.
About the Author
Born in Pennsylvania, Lynn spent most of her childhood, especially during math class, daydreaming. Today, she spends an obscene amount of time in her head, only now she writes down all the cool stuff.
With a degree in English Literature, Lynn used college as an excuse to read for four years straight. She lives in the Pocono Mountains with her husband, raising the four most incredible human beings on the planet. She writes young adult novels, both fantasy and contemporary.
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