SURVIVING SAVANNAH: GODS OF CHAOS MC (BOOK 16) by Honey Palomino (large screen ebook reader txt) 📗

Even though I had a full social life, school was important to me. School was my ticket out of this god forsaken hell hole. I didn’t want to depend on my family’s money, either. I had plans.

I wanted to be a successful designer.

I dreamed of designing all kinds of things. From clothes to handbags to shoes to housewares, I was going to be successful all on my own. But that meant getting into a good college first and that meant I at least had to get decent, if not great, grades.

So, skipping class went against that entirely.

And if Tara and I weren’t going to Bonaventure to meet up with Finn and Ian then I probably wouldn’t have said yes.

But I was quickly becoming very fond of making out with Finn and as Tara said, it was Friday, after all, and what harm would one missed afternoon really cause, anyway?

By the time we made it to the cemetery, I’d managed to push all my fears away and I allowed the warm Spring sunshine to melt all my worries away.

I knew I’d most likely spend the afternoon fielding off Finn’s roaming hands, but getting to kiss him was worth it. Soon, I’d give into his frustrations, but I wasn’t ready yet.

I didn’t mind making him wait, either.

It wasn’t because I was afraid he wouldn’t respect me. It was simply because I wasn’t ready and I knew it. I was close, but not quite there.

And as long as he respected that, I’d let him kiss me all he wanted.

I jumped out of the car without a care in the world, and totally looking forward to spending the weekend with my friends instead of my boring father.

Chapter 26

BLADE

The list haunted me all night.

Seeing Maggie’s name on there had really thrown me for a loop. It made all this so real, for some reasons. The other girl’s murders were gruesome, no doubt, but I didn’t know those girls. Not that I knew Maggie, either. In fact, I’d never met her. But the thought of something happening to hurt Rose was a little too close to home.

I drove around for a bit after breakfast, heading out to the cemetery that I’d avoided yesterday. Not only was it full of graves, but it was full of memories. Rose and I spent so much time there, finding it was one of the only places where we could be ourselves.

We’d sneak in after it closed in the evenings. It was so sprawling, it was easy to sneak in and hide for a good long while before the caretakers noticed you. And Rose being Rose, everyone knew her family, and she’d never really get in any trouble.

They’d just ask us to leave, to say hello to her father, and that was it.

The time we spent alone stretched out endlessly in my memories. We’d stroll past all the headstones and monuments and statues, making up stories for all the people who’s stories we didn’t already know. We’d stroll hand-in-hand under the canopies of the huge live oaks, the long fingers of the moss hanging down and brushing against our faces.

The first time I’d kissed her had been under that moss. It was magical. And every single time after that, too. After a year of doing nothing but kissing, things were heating up so much between us that neither of us could resist anymore.

It was a late summer afternoon when we finally gave in to temptation, and I’d never had a more sensual experience in my life. The heat hung heavy in the air, along with the haunting smell of the pink roses outside of her bedroom window. For years, the smell of roses brought me right back to that room, to that afternoon, when everything that was ever meant to be came to fruition in that room.

Nothing had ever been more right in my life than those few hours.

I could remember the sunshine beaming through the windows, the way it lit up Rose’s blonde hair, leaving it sparkling like it was sprinkled with angel’s dust. I remembered the look in her eyes as we finally lay naked together, our bare skin sliding together for the first time.

It was the first time I felt truly alive.

Every moment before and after that was a joke. Nothing ever measured up to that time with her.

The cemetery brought it all back, leaving me almost unable to drive. I parked the bike and decided to go for a stroll while I contemplated my next move. I felt like I needed to tell Rose about the list, but I knew it would shatter any feelings of safety she might have.

So, I was torn. I could have consulted Ryder. Or Slade or Riot or Grace. Or even my sister. But somehow, this felt personal. If I screwed this up, I needed the blame to fall squarely on my shoulders, and my shoulders alone.

I hoped a walk through the place where I felt the closest to Rose would guide me in the right direction.

Strolling past all the familiar places was like walking back in time. I knew so many of these people’s stories, just by living in Savannah. It was all local folklore, we practically studied them in school, for fuck’s sake.

That’s how it was here. It was all about the people who built Savannah, and honoring them and their archaic ways of thinking and living. Hell, I knew Anson Beddingham’s name before I knew the name of my great-grandfather.

It was important to remember your ancestors, sure, but this worship of them wasn’t always deserved. Some of these guys were assholes. Why did they need a statue of them in the park?

A burst of laughter broke the silence and as I rounded the corner, I saw a group of teenagers sitting near the fence surrounding the statue of Little Gracie, the exact place where the bodies of the two girls had been dumped. My stomach churned when I saw them.

I stopped for