Deidre tried to call Logan again. The phone rang and went to voicemail. From somewhere nearby, she heard someone else's phone ringing and stepped out of the way, off the path running along the beach. Couples and families had been walking up and down the beach all day. Their footprints remained in sand wet enough to become packed but not wet enough to be squishy.
"Hi, Logan. Me, again," she said. "Please call me back."
Hanging up, she shook her head, pissed at him. He really had left her. She deserved it after last night, but still, why didn't he at least answer and tell her he was done with her? He'd taken the car; it was her car!
Angry at him, Deidre texted him. She heard a familiar ring tone - the one he assigned her - and looked up hopefully.
She didn't see him. Puzzled, she texted him again.
Again, the ring tone. The sound came from the deserted lot. Deidre tried calling him. She heard the phone ring and followed the sound. It stopped when the call went to voicemail. She did it again and again, moving into the brush, where the scent of rotting seaweed came from.
Dialing one last time, she looked up and froze.
The body a few feet away was bloated and pale, missing its face and dressed in the shirt she bought him for his birthday, the one with his initials - LJM - embroidered across the pocket. The phone was ringing from its place in his jeans pocket.
That's what the man, Gabriel, had been doing in this spot last night. He killed her boyfriend. Maybe he meant to kill her, too, but slept with her instead. Or maybe, he planned on coming back for her tonight.
He really was a serial killer. What the fuck was wrong with her that she not only drew the attention of such a person but slept with him?
"Oh, god, Logan," she breathed, eyes watering.
Alarm surfaced. She'd gotten Logan killed by dragging him to the ocean. The killer had already marked her with his name.
She was next.
Full-blown panic hit her. Deidre staggered away and ran to the beach house. She snatched her purse and fled out the front door, running as hard as she could down the driveway. By the end of it, she was sobbing. She dropped to her knees, the vision of Logan's faceless body forefront in her thoughts.
She'd cheated on him and gotten him killed. He didn't deserve this! She was the one who was supposed to die, not him!
She cried for a few minutes then forced herself up. She had to get out of there and go somewhere safe, her apartment, hours away from where the murderer was. There were too many things she'd wanted to do before dying; now that someone might kill her, she realized how unready she really was. She definitely didn't want to end up like Logan.