The Girl and the Cursed Lake

A.J. Rivers

Copyright © 2021 by A.J. Rivers

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Epilogue

Staying In Touch With A.J.

Also by A.J. Rivers

Prologue

DEAN

Just a dream. Just a dream. Just a dream.

It was just a dream. He knew it was. He knew every second of it. Everything that would happen.

It had coursed through his brain a hundred times. A thousand times. More than he could ever know.

He wanted it gone. He wanted to wipe it out of his mind, so he would never have to see it again.

But he couldn't. He had never been able to.

Others chased their dreams. Dean's chased him.

Just like the voices and the footsteps.

They came from boots. Heavy, loud, thunderous boots. That was the only thing that would thud in the dirt. Every time, they shook through him. The footsteps were getting closer. If he didn't get off the path, he'd be seen. He only just barely got away. The breath was clawing out of his lungs; dirt flying up from his own footfalls stung his eyes. He couldn't stop now.

Somewhere, he heard screaming. He didn't know who it was, but the sound echoing through the trees seemed to be coming from all directions. It was disorienting. He didn't know where to go.

The cracking of a limb behind him made him whip around, and in an instant, he lost his footing. His own boots slipped out from under him as the edge of the path crumbled. He tumbled down the embankment, gritting his teeth to stop himself from making noise.

The thick trunk of a tree thumping against his back finally stopped him and he pulled himself up to sit. His knees bent, he leaned back against the tree and dropped his head down, closing his eyes as he drew in a deep breath. When he opened them, the sunlight spilling down through the branches above him glowed on the blood splattered down the front of his shirt.

Carrie

Sixteen years ago …

Carrie hung back on the shore, wrapping her arms around herself to ward off the gloom of the clouds overhead. She watched Travis chase Violet down the pier. The little girl squealed and giggled, and Carrie felt her heart swell. But at the center of it was the familiar pang. It was a sharp, twisting pain she had gotten used to over the years. It was the reminder of what she’d done. The secret bored a hole. Ate away at the very core of her.

It was fading. A little bit at a time. The more she saw them together, the more she was able to distance herself from the pain. One day, maybe, the hole would heal. But maybe it wouldn’t. And if it didn't, that was the price she had to pay. It was her pain to carry.

Travis scooped Violet into his arms and kissed her cheeks as she continued to giggle. She sounded so happy. As her little pink feet kicked up in the air, Carrie worried about the rough wood of the pier.

"Where are your shoes?" she called out.

"She kicked them off in the grass," Travis called back.

"She needs them."

"We're camping, Momma," he said, nuzzling Violet again. "Right, Sprinkles?"

"Camping, Momma," Violet agreed.

Carrie laughed and shook her head. "She's going to get splinters. Come on, now. Let's get some supper."

"We just got here," Travis said. "Let her get her energy out."

Carrie felt herself bristle but fought it. He was her father, she reminded herself. She needed to let go of the tight grasp. It wasn't just her watching over the little girl. Not anymore. It wasn't easy, but she made herself back up a couple of steps.

She watched Travis and Violet run around and play for a few more seconds before going to the cabin to start unpacking. She’d never been the type to be able to just jump into a vacation. Not the type to live out of a suitcase and eat cheap food from grocery bags or see supplies piled on the counter.

In order for her to relax and have fun, she needed to feel settled into place. That meant clothes in the dressers. Shampoo in the shower. Food in the cabinets. Floors swept and surfaces wiped.

When all of that was done, she could relax.

She was vacuuming in the corners of the dark-blue-and-burgundy plaid couch in the living room when the cabin door opened. Travis came in with Violet on his shoulders. The little girl scrambled down him as if he were a tree and ran into the bedroom. Carrie turned off the vacuum as Travis leaned down and kissed her cheek.

"Are her feet alright?" she asked.

He scoffed and went for the refrigerator. "They're fine. She was just playing.”

"I know. But that pier was looking pretty rough. It could use a good smoothing over. Maybe even a coat of sealant."

Travis leaned against the doorway and took a deep swig out of a bottle of beer.

"I think that might take some of the rustic charm out of the campground," he said with a laugh in his voice.

"I guess it would. And what's a summer camping trip without at least a couple of first aid situations?" Carrie asked.

Travis grinned and walked over to her for another kiss.

“Exactly,” he said. “That's the spirit. And while we're at it, you are the only person I have ever seen who cleans while camping. Where did you even find a vacuum?"

"It's a cabin," she pointed out as she wound