Dawn by McKayla Box

Chapter 43

Idon’t sleep.

I can’t sleep.

I get out of the shower and I dry off and pull on some clothes, and then I just sit on my bed, hugging my knees to my chest, watching the clock, waiting.

I don’t have any more tears to cry.

My hands aren’t shaking now.

I just feel empty.

And I can’t stop thinking about what happened in that parking lot.

It’s a little after five in the morning when I put my shoes on and get in my car and drive to the marina. The lot is empty. A layer of fog blankets everything. I park and get out and walk to the gate.

On the other side, I see a figure walking toward me.

It’s Trevor.

He’s in the same clothes he was in last night. There are circles under his eyes. He looks exhausted. The blood on the shoulder of his shirt has dried and he’s holding his arm against his body.

He gets to the gate but makes no move to open it. “What were you doing there, Presley?”

His directness shouldn’t surprise me, but it does.

“I…I needed to know what you were doing,” I tell him. “We put a phone in the boat the other night and we were able to see where you went. We pulled the address and Sunny and I drove down. I needed to know.”

He looks away and shakes his head.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him. “I’m sorry. How is your shoulder?”

“My shoulder will be fine,” he says. “You need to listen to me.”

I swallow and nod.

“Those people…they’re all part of a cartel in Mexico,” he explains. “Some really bad people. They don’t think twice about killing people. They do it for fun.” He pauses. “And we just killed four of them.”

“They were going to kill you,” I say. “Annabelle told us that.”

“Probably,” he says. “But it doesn’t matter. Their people are dead. It’s literally Annabelle’s family that runs this shit. When they find out she’s dead…it’s going to be bad.” He pauses. “So you need to listen to me.”

“Okay.”

He takes a deep breath. “Brett and I have to leave now. If we stick around, they’ll kill us. And they’ll hurt anyone we’re close to. Do you understand?”

“Trevor, come on,” I say, gripping the bars of the gate. “No. You can go to the police and—”

“And do what?” he says. “Tell them what we were doing? And even if they listen to us, Annabelle’s family will be coming. We have to get out of here.”

“No,” I say. “No.”

“Yes,” he says. “We’re going.”

“Where? For how long?”

He looks down at the ground. “I’m not telling you. The less you know, the better.”

“Trevor,” I say, fighting back tears. “No. There has to be another way.”

“There isn’t,” he says, shaking his head. “We…put the bodies in the water and that’ll buy us some time. But they’ll wash up eventually. And Annabelle’s family is going to figure out something happened pretty quick. So we need to get out of here. And you have to listen to me. You can’t tell anyone you were there. You can’t. And you can’t tell anyone that we’ve left. As far as you’re concerned, we just disappeared. Alright?”

“Alright?” I say, suddenly furious. “Fuck no it’s not alright! What are you talking about?” I rattle the gate as hard as I can. “And let me in so we can talk about this.”

He shakes his head. “No. We’re leaving now. Right now. I shouldn’t even be here. You need to go home and don’t tell anyone we met. And don’t tell anyone you were down there. Because if they get a whiff of you having been down there? They’ll come for you.”

I shake the gate again. “Open the gate.”

“No,” he says.

The tears pour out of my eyes. “Where are you going? When will I see you?”

“I don’t know where,” he says, looking down. “And I don’t know when.”

I choke on my words, sobs racking my body.

“I’m sorry,” he says. He reaches out his hands and they close over mine. His fingers offer a soft squeeze, a gentle caress, and I sob out again.

What if this is the last time I see him? I touch him?

“I know I let you down and I’m so sorry.” His voice aches with regret. “But I have to keep you safe and the only way I can do that is if we get out of here.”

“No,” I say, sobbing. “Stay. Please.”

He pulls my hand, urging me to take as step closer to the gate. “Come here.”

My feet shuffle forward and lean in, wishing I could slip through those bars and be with him on the other side.

“If I open this gate, I’ll never leave you,” he says. “So I can’t open it. I just can’t.” Tears form in his eyes. “Okay? I love you and I’m sorry.”

I grab onto his arm. “No. No. Please don’t leave. We can figure it out.”

He shakes his head. “No. I’m going. You’ll be safe this way. And my phone’s already gone. So you can’t call me or text me.”

It’s like a knife to my stomach. I can’t breathe. All I want is to go back in time and to let Bridget talk me out of going down to San Rivero.

But I can’t.

I went.

And now we’re here.

Which is nowhere.

“I have to go, Pres,” he says, pulling his arm away. “I have to go. I love you. I’m sorry.”

“Trevor. Wait.”

But he turns and walks away from the gate.

“Trevor!” I yell. “Stop!”

But he doesn’t, and he disappears into the fog

And then I hear the motor on the boat start.

I hear it pull away from the dock.

And then I hear nothing.