Authors: Gretchen McNeil
“We were all suspects.”
“Yeah? Did you think I did it?”
“No.” T.J. laughed, which turned immediately into a weak, dry cough that racked his body.
“See? So that means I’m the worst person on the planet.”
“Meg, he
made
you believe that. He was one step ahead of us the whole way.”
“I guess.” Meg couldn’t shake the fact that she’d tried to kill T.J. It seemed like an insurmountable obstacle. “But I fell for it. And it was partly out of anger. I didn’t believe that you really liked me, especially not after what I did to you. I mean, you’ve been avoiding me for months, and it was easy to believe you were just using my feelings for you to accomplish all the murders. It made me feel … pathetic.”
“I’m sorry. About avoiding you. I was really angry at first. Hurt, you know? I couldn’t even look at you.”
Meg winced. She thought she’d only been hurting herself. She never realized she’d wounded him as well. “I … I didn’t know.”
“It’s done now. Besides …” T.J. reached his good arm back and squeezed her leg. “You saved my life. Tom would have killed me. You could have gotten away once I distracted him. Saved yourself. But you didn’t.” He grinned again, looking more like the old flirtatious T.J. “I think that sort of cancels out Homecoming.”
“What about the bullet in your shoulder?”
T.J. smiled. “I’m sure we can think of another way for you to make that up to me.”
Meg recalled the panic she’d felt at losing T.J.—once when she shot him, and once when he tried to save her from Tom. If only she’d trusted him and her own feelings, perhaps he wouldn’t be lying there wounded. Perhaps Minnie wouldn’t be dead.
A heavy tear rolled down Meg’s cheek.
“Hey.” T.J.’s voice was strong and forceful. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.” There he went, reading her mind again. “We’re still here. We made it.”
She looked down into those sparkly brown eyes and the dimples that dotted each cheek. “Yeah. Yeah, we did.”
“Now it looks like you’re stuck with me.”
Meg smiled despite herself. “And if it doesn’t work out, I can always shoot you again.”
T.J.’s eyes twinkled. “See? Gold.”
A sound broke the monotony of lapping waves. Something rhythmic. Something man-made. Like a fan turned on full blast.
Meg and T.J. both looked up at the same time. A tiny dot appeared in the sky—orange against the growing light of dawn, and getting larger by the second.
The Coast Guard.
“Can you handle me?” T.J.’s hand grasped hers, tight and firm. “Can you? Because after all of this, I just … I can’t imagine being without you.”
Ten bodies. Ten lives cut short. Meg could see them all in her mind, from Lori’s purple face to the sleeping death of the Taylors, to Tom’s mask of hatred as the flames consumed the boat. Ten people who would never live their lives, never feel love or hate or fear or anything ever again. How much time had she wasted living in fear? Living for others? How much of her life would she continue to let slip away without enjoying a single moment?
That ended. Here and now.
“I love you, Thomas Jefferson Fletcher.” Meg couldn’t believe how easy the words came. “I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember.”
The helicopter was closer now, circling the smoldering ruins of the boathouse. Then someone on board spotted them and the helicopter turned toward the dock, so close the force of its blades sucked the air right out of Meg’s lungs.
“When you texted me the day of Homecoming …” T.J.’s voice trailed off. “I thought you really didn’t care about me.”
“I know,” Meg said. She so desperately wanted him to understand. “I—”
He held up his hand. “I get it. I get it now. You and Minnie … it was complicated.” The chopper hovered right above them. Meg looked up and saw the side door open and a stretcher swing out on the crane.
“Meg!” T.J. shouted against the noise.
She looked down at T.J. His face was serious again. Tight and worn.
“Don’t let her come between us again, okay? It’s done.”
Done. Done and dead. But as nightmarish as the whole weekend had been, as horrifying and painful and life-altering in a way that even years of therapy wouldn’t be able to cure her of, it had done one beautiful thing. It had brought her and T.J. together.
She bent her head to his and kissed him. Whatever they’d become after the weekend at White Rock House, they’d become it together.
There was no going back.
TO MY EDITOR, KRISTIN DALY RENS, WHO
inspired this book. More than just an editor, she’s a muse.
To my agent, Ginger Clark, without whom I’d be curled up under my desk in the fetal position half the time. She’s a friend and a warrior, and I’m so lucky to have her.
To my fabulous team at Balzer + Bray—Alessandra Balzer, Donna Bray, and Sara Sargent, who have been cheerleaders and rock stars all around. And to the extended HarperCollins family, specifically copy editor Amy Vinchesi, production editor Kathryn Silsand, Emilie Polster and Stefanie Hoffman in marketing, Caroline Sun and Olivia deLeon in publicity, and the amazing cover designer Ray Shappell.
To Holly Frederick and Dave Barbor at Curtis Brown, Ltd., who have, once again, worked tirelessly on behalf of this book.
To the greatest group of readers the world has ever known: Carrie Harris, Jennifer Bosworth, Jennifer Donahue, Amy Bai, Lisa and Laura Roecker, Christine Fonseca, Roy Firestone, Mark Uhlemann, Rachel Hunter, Abby McDonald, LynDee Walker, Nikki Katz, and especially Laurel Hoctor Jones.
To my network of supporters who keep me sane with a variety of phone calls, texts, chats, happy hours, and mental health days: Jessica Childress, Shannon Spencer, Amy McKenzie, Amy Dachtler, Tara Campomenosi, Rachanee Srisavasdi, Amy Romero, Eileen Tsai, Ellen Files, Bryn Greenwood, Leah Clifford, Jen Hayley, Jill Myles, Jessica Morgan, Juliette Dominguez, David Eilenberg, Kirsten Roeters, Suzanne Keilly, and Jake Gilchrist. Plus the denizens of Purgatory, the collected awesome of the Apocalypsies, and the YARebels old and new.
To Scott Tracey, who, when he heard the pitch for this novel, insisted I write it.
To Alpheus Fletcher Underhill IV, for technical expertise and an unlimited supply of story ideas, which I could never use but appreciate nonetheless.
To Yadira Taylor, one of my dearest friends, who will always be tied to this book. It’s dedicated to her mom, whom I miss dearly.
To Roy Firestone, who made me cry several times during the writing of this book. I’m a better person (and friend) because of it.
To my mom, who did so much to facilitate my deadline I can’t even list them all for fear it might make me sound like a dysfunctional twelve-year-old. She’s the best mom ever. Enough said.
Much love.
Pixie Vision Productions
GRETCHEN M
C
NEIL is the author of
POSSESS.
She is also a former coloratura soprano, is the voice of Mary on G4’s
Code Monkeys
, and currently sings with the L.A.-based circus troupe Cirque Berzerk. She is a founding member of vlog group the YARebels—where she can be seen as “Monday”—and is an active member of the Enchanted Inkpot, a group blog of YA and middle-grade fantasy writers. You can visit Gretchen online at www.gretchenmcneil.com.
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Also by
GRETCHEN McNEIL
POSSESS
Cover art © 2012 by GettyImages
Cover design by Ray Shappell
Balzer + Bray is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
Ten
Copyright © 2012 by Gretchen McNeil All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
www.epicreads.com
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data McNeil, Gretchen.
Ten / Gretchen McNeil.—1st ed.
p. cm.
Summary: “Ten teens head to a house party at a remote island mansion off the Washington coast … only for them to be picked off by a killer one by one.”—Provided by publisher.
ISBN 978-0-06-211878-3 (hardcover bdg.) EPub Edition © JULY 2012 ISBN 9780062118806
[1. Murder—Fiction. 2. Revenge—Fiction. 3. Horror stories.] I. Title.
PZ7.M4787952Te 2012 | 2012014342 |
[Fic]—dc23 | CIP |
| AC |
12 13 14 15 16 LP/RRDH 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
First Edition
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