This is WAR (24 page)

“You’re so completely tragic, you know that?” The words came out jumbled-sounding. Willa was becoming more wasted by the minute despite the fact that Madge hadn’t seen her take a sip. Willa spun on her heels and started back toward the party, but didn’t make it more than four steps before falling in a puddle of drunk girl
.

Trip appeared out of nowhere. “Whoa,” he said, bending to Willa’s side
.

Shit. How long had he been there? What had he heard? Madge liked to think she didn’t care about the Gregorys or
what they thought, but she did. It was impossible to be a member at the Club and not care about them
.

“Easy there, killer.” Trip helped Willa back up into a standing position. “Hey, let’s get you out of here …” He nodded at Madge
.

She felt a slight sense of relief at having someone on her team. Maybe he’d step up and actually help get Willa home. Maybe he’d surprise her
.

But then James stumbled onto the deck. Her face brightened as she slipped from beneath Trip’s grasp, drawn to him like a magnet. Madge marveled at how much more drunk he appeared compared to a half hour ago. His light hair was mussed, his eyelids so heavy it was a wonder he could see. The transformation was dangerous. They laughed hysterically at each other as though Trip and Madge were invisible, which in a way they pretty much were. Eclipsed by their siblings
.

“Keep an eye on her, Trip. I’m gonna grab my purse and get her home.” Madge was ready to end the night. Trip wasn’t the most responsible guy in the world, but surely he’d be able to keep an eye on Willa for five minutes while she grabbed her bag
.

She should have known better
.

As Madge ducked into a guest room to retrieve her purse, she heard the revving of a motorboat. She ran back out onto the deck just in time to see James driving the boat away
.

Trip stood at the railing, screaming into the night. But his voice was nothing against the boat’s motor
.

“What the hell?” Madge shouted. “How could you have let them go?”

Trip was serious for once in his life, his normal grin replaced by confusion. “I tried to stop them, but you know
James. He’s kind of impossible to stop when he decides he wants something.” He grabbed Madge’s arm and pulled her toward the stairs that led to the opposite end of the yacht. “Come on, there’s another skiff over here. We’ll get them back.” Trip climbed in and started the engine, then lent a hand for Madge to follow. The narrow wood creaked and teetered under her heels. She quickly sat down before she fell over. “I know exactly where James takes girls. There’s a sandbar not too far from here. Guarantee they’ll either be passed out or making out.”

The boat bounced over the dark water. She felt queasy. The cool spray across her arms and legs did nothing to extinguish her anger. Willa was taking stupidity to a whole new level tonight, and Madge was sick of having to pick up the pieces. Without thinking, she snatched up her phone and texted:
when i find u i’m gonna kill u
.
She almost hesitated—not because she regretted the words, but because she’d texted the exact same message dozens of time in the past and Willa always laughed it off. Madge could never sound serious enough
.
i mean it
,
she added, then pressed send
.

“Sucks being the older sibling, right?” Trip laughed
.

“Uh yeah, it does.” She tucked her phone back in her bag. “But aren’t you like five minutes younger than James or something?”

“Well, that depends on your source.” Trip shook his head, his red hair catching in the moonlight. “According to my grandfather I’m younger, but my birth certificate says I was first.”

“But why would they lie? I don’t get it.”

“Oh come on, you know how the story goes. He hates me. I’m the reason my parents are dead. In the old man’s eyes I’m a killer.” Trip’s smile stopped at his eyes
.

Madge wasn’t sure how to respond to that. She twisted the chain of her key necklace around her finger. She’d heard the rumors about the head-on collision that killed his parents, but she’d never guessed they were actually true. Or maybe she’d found them too creepy to think about
.

“And here are the little lovebirds now.” Trip maneuvered over to where James’s boat idled near a sand bar. From a distance it looked empty but as they pulled in closer, Madge could make out Willa and James lying in the bottom, not moving
.

“Jesus, they passed out.” Madge moved over to the edge and tried to get a better look. The boat rocked slightly beneath her weight, water lapping up around the side
.

“Don’t freak out. You know how to drive a boat, right?” Trip kicked off his shoes and climbed over the edge, the water rising to his knees as he waded to the other boat
.

Madge nodded mutely
.

“Great. I’ll follow you back. Take it slow. It’s dark.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure,” Trip said. “Just get back to the yacht.”

Madge swallowed. She nodded again and pushed the boat into gear. She was going to kill Willa for this. Literally strangle her. But maybe this was finally the wake-up call she needed. Maybe now she’d begin to see how stupid she was acting. Maybe she’d even realize that her mother was manipulating her
.

Fireworks bloomed in the sky as Madge made her way back to the yacht. They were somehow even more beautiful from the quiet of the deep lake, the colors lingering in the dark sky long after another burst had taken its place. She felt a calmness wash over her, a bit of the anger finding its way out. She’d always loved fireworks. Ever since she was
little. She and Willa would lay out on a blanket, bellies full of candy, glow-in-the-dark bracelets trailing up their arms. Willa would hold Madge’s hand, scared of the loud noises. Madge’s hand felt empty as she flew through the black water
.

By the time she found her way back to the yacht, the show was over, but the party was still in full swing. She stood at the stern, watching for the little vessel that carried her sister. Her stomach twisted. What was taking them so long? A sick feeling of dread wormed its way into her throat
.

After an eternity, she heard the engine
.

She was down the stairs and next to the boat just in time to see Trip drag a semi-conscious James onto the yacht. She craned her neck. “Trip! Where’s Willa?”

His eyes were wild when they met hers. He nearly dropped his brother. “She’s not here? I was praying she was with you. She’s not with you?” The words tumbled out of his mouth, each one bumping into the next. Madge had never heard him so scared, had never seen his face so warped
.

“Trip? My sister? Where the hell is she?” She’d heard him wrong. This wasn’t happening. She was face to face with him now. Or as close as she could get to his six-foot-four frame. He shook his head at her, his eyes flicking across the deck and behind her, forcing her to take a step back. “Willa.” She whispered her name
.

“My grandfather. We need to find my grandfather now!”

But instead of following Trip, Madge threw her bag aside, kicked off her shoes, and dove into the water. She swam back toward the sandbar in long practiced strokes. Willa was still there. She had to be. Her muscles burned and cried. It had taken five minutes by skiff. Maybe it took her five minutes swimming. Or an hour. She’d lost all sense of time. When Madge finally reached the sandbar, she waded onto the
shallow waters and sat down to wait for Willa to return. This was just one of the Gregorys’ stupid practical jokes. Madge knew if she waited there long enough, Willa would show up giggling and make fun of her overly serious sister
.

So Madge waited. And waited
.

The moon had practically set when the first of the search boats appeared. At first she struggled against the police who tried to pry her off her perch. She only stopped when she saw the men on one of the other boats fish her sister’s body from the lake. She watched them try to revive her with chest pumps and mouth-to-mouth breathing. She watched them give up when Willa didn’t respond
.

Sometimes Madge still believed that if only they’d have left her alone out there a little longer, if only the Captain’s search party had faced some sort of delay, Willa would have finally swum back to her. Just a few more minutes and she would have come back. Madge was sure of it
.

Chapter 27

Madge dreamt of a doorbell. It ripped through the thick silence on the beach. It clanged from Willa’s blue lips. By the fourth ding, Madge shot up and found herself in bed, her heart slamming wildly in her chest. The previous night flooded over her, the look of disappointment etched across Rose’s face. And as hard as Madge tried to dredge up a feeling of regret, as much as she tried to conjure up any type of guilt, she couldn’t seem to muster either. Maybe she was just too tired.

The doorbell rang again.

Madge rubbed her eyes, trying to focus on the time on her phone and what the numbers meant. Her head finally cleared enough to comprehend that 7:26
A.M.
meant it was too early for doorbells. She slipped on a bra under her T-shirt and poked her head out the door, gripping her phone like a weapon.

“Carol?” She waited a beat. “Dad?”

The doorbell sounded again. This time it sent a shudder
through her system. She knew she was alone—since Willa’s funeral, she’d almost always found herself alone after 7
A.M.
—and anyone could be standing behind that door. The house felt insubstantial, the walls too thin, a window easily broken, the alarm they never set, worthless. Madge ducked into Willa’s room and pulled a tiny section of her curtain back to check the driveway. The window was cool on her cheek, the air conditioner on overdrive, and her breath fogged the glass. Lina’s car was parked in front with Rose’s close behind.

Her relief was short-lived. Sick regret began to consume her. She was awake now. She thought of the previous night, of the semi-out-of-body-experience she’d had when approaching the Gregorys’ house—pulling on the brake line, the potential destruction it could have caused if everything had gone right. Or wrong, depending upon how you looked at it.

When she opened the door, she saw Sloane first, looking like someone had died all over again. Lina towered over her, somehow managing to look even more jagged and raw than usual. Maybe it was the fresh tattoo on her left wrist, still swollen and seeping around the edges. Anger radiated off of her in waves but there was something else there too—something Madge couldn’t place. Rose hovered in the background, off the front steps near the grass. Maybe she was scared of what would happen now that she’d managed to unite Madge’s friends together against her. Or maybe she wanted to avoid the new outsider.

Rose opened her mouth to speak, but Lina beat her to it.

“How could you do that?” she spat.

Madge took a step back.

“Do you realize what could have happened? If one of them died, it would be traced back to you, to
us
. And then what?”
Lina threw her hands in the air, pacing back and forth in the entryway. Her eyes were glassy with tears that would never dare fall in front of them. Madge had never seen her so upset. Not even the night of Willa’s death. “I get that the War isn’t enough for you, that you’re on some sort of suicide mission. If you have a death wish, that’s fine. Awesome. But don’t drag us down with you. I’m not about to destroy my life for those assholes, and you shouldn’t be either. They’ve already done enough damage.”

“I … I …” Madge began but could formulate no response. For once in her life she had nothing to say. She looked at Rose. She wanted to hate her for reporting back to Sloane and Lina, for giving her up. But she couldn’t. She saw nothing but concern in Rose’s dark eyes and nothing but disappointment in Sloane’s. Still, all she could think about was how she hadn’t tried hard enough the previous night, that if she were a little stronger, if she’d had more time, if she’d planned ahead, she could have won. She wondered if this was what James felt like when he reached for another drink. Powerless to stop—