Stolen Crush

by Stunich, C. M.

  His words ring a bit hollow, but even though I know I shouldn’t, I curl my fingers around his plaid tie and close my eyes. They’re so sore, and I’m so tired, and sleep could be a true escape for me …

  I’m out before I can even finish the thought.

  Parrish, I’m coming for you. Please be okay. We can’t end things the way we did. There’s so much more between us.

  So much fucking more.

  “Get up.”

  I open my eyes to see Tess standing over me. Her eyes flick to the side, and it takes me a second to realize that it’s Chasm she’s staring at. Luckily, he’s sitting up beside me and not like … snuggling me the way he was earlier.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, my heart doing this strange flip-flop between fear and excitement. Is Parrish back? Is this nightmare over? Is he dead? Gods, please don’t let him be dead.

  “You’re going to school today.” Tess tears Parrish’s blankets off of me and drops them to the floor. She can barely stand to look at me. Not that I blame her, after what I did yesterday.

  “School?” I query back as Chasm grits his teeth beside me. He’s got my phone in his hand, so I’m guessing that Tess surprised him as much as she did me. She won’t realize it’s my phone though. At least, I hope she doesn’t. “You want me to go to school?”

  Tess ignores me, turning and heading into the hallway without another word.

  Chas and I exchange a look before we both climb out of bed. He hands the phone over—no new messages unfortunately—and heads into Parrish’s bathroom to freshen up. I retreat to my own room, showering in a daze, and donning my uniform.

  It isn’t until I’m downstairs with my book bag that it really hits me.

  She’s making me go to school? How can I possibly go to school when Parrish is in danger? I need to devote every waking second to trying to find him. You don’t get good at games by not playing them.

  Then again, how can I refuse? Tess could send me back to New York which, for the first time since I got here, sounds like a really, really bad idea. The Slayer wants me to find Parrish? I’ll meet that fucking challenge—but I can’t do it from the other side of the country.

  Chasm is waiting near the garage door, yawning and swinging his keys around his finger. He blinks several times and straightens up when he sees me, like he’s doing his best to wake himself from a stupor.

  “I’m taking us all to school apparently,” he says, nodding his chin in Kimber’s direction as she appears from the living room. The way he looks at her … and the way he looks at me, there’s no comparison. He calls me ‘Little Sister’, but he doesn’t see me that way, does he? “Morning, Kim.”

  “Morning,” she replies, but her usual spit and fire personality is so dimmed that I hardly recognize her. She’s squeezing her phone in one hand but refrains from her usual mindless scrolling. Kimber looks at me, and I’m taken aback by the raw expression on her face. “Do you even care that he’s gone? Why haven’t you been doing the search parties with Maxx?”

  “Kimber.” It’s Maxx, standing near the entrance to the living room/kitchen area. He’s leaning his left shoulder against the doorjamb, as shirtless as Parrish and Chasm usually are. The sight of his naked body is almost staggering, but it’s like I’m viewing everything this morning through a hazy lens. I am most definitely not myself right now. “I’m sure they have their reasons,” he says, his voice like cool water as it crashes over me. A shock ripples through me, waking me up from my own stupor. “We all process trauma in our own ways.”

  “Please take me to see her,” I whisper, squeezing my hands in the fabric of my skirt. Even though I’m speaking in a whisper, Maxx somehow hears me. That should’ve been a sign right there. He stands up suddenly, eyes widening as his gaze flicks to Kimber.

  “See who?” she asks, turning an angry glare my way. I’m almost relieved to see it. Because if Kimber is pissed off at me, then the world hasn’t changed as much as I thought it did. It isn’t flipped upside down, it isn’t over, and there’s still hope for Parrish.

  As long as I do what my father wants, there’s hope.

  “Lumen, stupid,” Chasm snorts, taking over the big brother role while Parrish is out of the office. “You know they’re dating; everybody does. Get in the car.” He grabs Kimber’s hand and her face flushes red before the pair of them disappear into the garage.

  Maxx pads over to me, and I close my eyes, fighting back tears. Something about him makes me want to be honest, to just let it all out, to tell him everything. But I can’t. I’m not even sure that Chasm finding out was a good thing. Last thing I should be doing is putting other people that I care about on the stag-masked psycho’s radar.

  I look up at Maxx, and his face falls dramatically, losing that edge of irritation that he was trying so hard to hide.

  “I must look pathetic,” I start with a self-deprecating laugh. “And I’m sorry about not helping with the search party.”

  “You aren’t pathetic at all: your boyfriend is missing.” Maxx pauses, like he isn’t quite sure that was the right thing to say. Boyfriend? Is Parrish my boyfriend now? I have no idea because we never really got to talk about it, now did we? “If Maxine were missing, I’d be the same way.”

  “You wouldn’t help search?” I retort dryly because I must really look like an asshole now. Berating Tess about Justin, destroying my birthday present and her most prized possession while spouting vitriol, and refusing to take part in the search party. I’m not going to come out of this situation smelling like a rose, that’s for sure.

  “Kota, can I ask you something?” Maxx starts, biting his lower lip for a moment and reminding me that even though we haven’t spent much time together, I’ve somehow picked up one of his habits.

  “Go for it.” I swipe my blazer sleeve across my face, not caring if it gets gross or not. The state of my school uniform means nothing to me right now. Parrish. I need to figure out a way to rescue Parrish. It’s like … life has suddenly become a video game. If this is just a game, I can beat it, right? I can rescue the prince from the tower.

  “Do you know where Parrish is?”

  The question hits me out of left field, and my eyes widen in just such a way that I probably look guilty as fuck. To be fair, I actually don’t know where Parrish is. But I know he’s alive. I know he isn’t safe. I know he’s hurt. I stare at Maxx for so long that his face starts to change, turning into a look of alarm that must be reflected in my own gaze.

  I turn away from him, but he won’t let me go, grabbing onto my shoulder and forcefully turning me around. He leans down and looks straight into my face, and I swear, I forget how to lie. It dissipates like water on hot pavement. Nothing but steam.

  “What happened? Where is he?” Maxx breathes, and I see this terrible spark of hope in his eyes. He’s worried, but he’s also glad that I know something, that his friend hasn’t just disappeared into the ether. “Dakota, you can tell me.”

  The sound of someone coming down the stairs give us both pause. Maxx releases me and steps back as Tess appears in the foyer beside us. The way she looks at me … I’ll never forget her expression for as long as I live. My cheeks—yes, and my boobs—turn a brilliant red as I remember the feel of the heavy typewriter in my hands, the sound of shattering glass as it made contact with the BMW.

  She says nothing as she moves past me, like a ghost has possessed Tess’ body and taken away all the fight she had left.

  Using Maxx’s brief moment of distraction, I slip into the garage, noticing that the safety glass has been cleaned up, and head for Chasm’s idling car.

  “Wait, wait, wait,” Maxx calls out, grabbing my arm before I can complete my escape. “Dakota, you know something. You do. I can see it in your face.”

  “Can you please arrange for me to see Maxine?” I repeat, because I can’t tell Maxx. It’s too risky. I shouldn’t even have told Chasm. I reach up and carefully remove Maxx’s hand from my arm before climbing into the car. He says nothing, just st
ands in the garage and watches us until we disappear up the road toward the academy.

  School is fucking torturous.

  Everyone wants to talk to me, but not for the right reasons. They’re all salivating to get the scoop on Parrish, but not because most of them are concerned, because they find the entire situation amusing.

  Maxx did warn me about Whitehall, after all.

  “He suspects something?” Chasm asks me at lunch, standing in the theater while Lumen and Danyella run off to grab us lunch. They both genuinely care, at least, and they’ve been trying to take care of us both all day. Chas taps his toe against the floor, his back against the front of the stage, arms crossed.

  “He won’t tell anyone, will he?” I ask, but even as the words are leaving my mouth, I know the answer. Maxx isn’t like that. We might not know each other very well, but I get the feeling that he wouldn’t give up my secrets so easily.

  “Maxx? Please.” Chasm snorts again and looks away. “He has these annoyingly rigid morals. Sometimes it takes a while to figure out what they are, but once you know, you can be assured that he’ll never break them. He won’t tell anyone unless he thinks it’ll benefit both you and Parrish without a doubt. Until then, he’ll keep it to himself. But, he’s going to be suspicious as shit until then.”

  “Fantastic.” I rub at my cheeks and close my eyes, wondering how Tess could even think to send us all to school while her son is missing. Then again, it’s nearly the end of the school year; we can’t miss more than a few days without falling behind.

  That, and she was probably foaming at the mouth to get rid of me. Can’t say I blame her.

  I drop my hands to my lap before sliding my phone from my blazer pocket to check for messages. There’s still nothing. It’s infuriating. No matter how many times I text, it seems I’m not going to get a reply until the kidnapper is damn good and ready. The kidnapper … my father. I mean, it could be true, but it could also be a bunch of bullshit. It really could be one of Tess’ crazed fans; I know there are people out there who are like that.

  Googling the number didn’t help me either. It’s likely a burner phone, so there isn’t much I could do with it. The next thing I looked up—with my phone under my desk in second period, mind you—was search for local wineries and houses with wine cellars that are or were for sale sometime recently. Nothing there either. But I’m just getting started.

  I nibble on my thumb nail, pausing when Danyella and Lumen head back into the theater with food for the four of us.

  “I bet Parrish is in Cancun,” Lumen muses, handing me my tray. I’m not hungry, but I force myself to unwrap the baked potato, dumping the butter and sour cream into it and taking a robotic bite. I’ll need fuel, right? Hit points. Hearts. My health bar. A life gauge. “Or maybe Saint Croix with Maria Cortez. I hear she’s vacationing there until her sister is found.”

  I stop with my second bite halfway to my mouth, my eyes flicking to Chasm. He’s giving me a look like he thinks it’s a weird coincidence but nothing more. That influencer, Francisca Cortez, is missing … Parrish Vanguard is missing. Come to think of it, the Vanguard’s maid JJ is missing, too.

  I set my fork down, my stomach twisting with nausea. There are coincidences, and then there are clues. These are clues. Francisca and JJ have very, very loose connections to me, but connections nonetheless.

  “Wherever he is, I’m sure he’s—” Danyella starts, but I can’t take so much deceit dumped in my lap all at once. I’m not someone who enjoys keeping secrets. Honesty is refreshing as fuck.

  “Parrish and I slept together the night he went missing.” There it is. It’s out there now. Chasm groans, but doesn’t comment. Lumen is standing there with a bottle of green smoothie in one hand, the cap in her other. She’s frozen with the cap halfway back to the bottle, like I’ve pressed pause on her.

  “Pardon me?” Danyella begins, blinking heavily behind her pink-rimmed glasses.

  “We slept together, and it was the first time. We never slept together before. I just … let people believe a lie.” I stare at my food and refuse to look at either of them. “I’m sorry for that now. Really, really sorry.”

  “Babe, what?” Lumen starts, screwing the cap onto her drink. “You think I didn’t realize I’d made a mistake at the party? I was drunk as hell. Talking to you for five minutes sober, I knew you’d never slept with Parrish. I mean … until now.” She makes a face as I finally look up and catch her gaze. “I’m honestly not upset just … jealous.”

  “You slept with Parrish?” Danyella repeats, leaning in toward me. “Is that why he left? I’m not asking to be mean, but … is it a possibility?”

  “No,” I say firmly, thinking of that night, of how amazing everything was. Being with Parrish like that was fulfilling in a way I’ve never experienced before. “That’s definitely not it: trust me.”

  Danyella and Lumen exchange looks as Chasm lets out a scoff.

  “He wouldn’t do something like that: he’d know that I’d have to kick his ass if he did.” He stands up and grabs his tray from the stage. “Enjoy your girl talk. I’ll be outside in the hall.” He does what he says, leaving me alone with the girls. Somehow, he figured it out.

  This conversation isn’t about the fact that Parrish is missing; it’s more than that.

  He leaves me alone for the rest of the lunch period, so I can talk with my friends.

  Just that act alone shows me that he’s just as much of one as they are.

  The next message comes as I’m walking out of my last class of the day (one that’s being taught by a substitute as half the teachers have bailed to join the search party). As soon as I feel my phone buzzing, I tear it from my pocket and slip into the theater for some privacy. Danyella’s got a family thing today, so she’s given the entire production crew the day off.

  Find a safe space to talk.

  I stand there staring at the text for so long that my vision gets blurry, and I have to blink a half-dozen times to clear it.

  I’m in a safe space, I reply, feeling a rush of adrenaline take over me. I keep telling myself over and over again that this is a game, that there’s a boss battle waiting for me at the end of it. Parrish is the prince; I’m the knight.

  I exhale sharply, squeezing the phone tight in my hand and leaning back against the wall to wait. This I can do. A game. It’s a game. I can beat any game. Any fucking game.

  An incoming video call appears on the screen, and I swear, I cannot answer it fast enough.

  “Parrish,” I breathe, taking a step forward, as if that’ll somehow get me deeper into the screen to be with him. “I’m coming for you. I promise. I won’t ever stop. I won’t. Even if it kills me.”

  “Dakota, don’t,” he chokes out, letting his head fall forward. He seems so tired today, so goddamn tired. “I’m not worth it.” But even as he says that, he lifts his eyes up to mine and they blaze. He wants to live, even if he won’t admit it. There’s no shame in that.

  “What do I have to do now?” I ask, dreading the next command but knowing that I’ll do it. I’ll do it, and he knows that. My father. But I can’t think about that right now. Whether the kidnapper is my dad or not is irrelevant at this point.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Parrish is murmuring, closing his eyes. I wonder if he’s being fed? Given water? Allowed to sleep? The man—let’s just call him the Justin for now—says that he’ll keep Parrish alive, not that he’ll keep him comfortable or even sane. I don’t have a huge window of time here. “Gamer Girl, just let it go. Let me go.”

  I meet his eyes, and I hope that I convey how serious I am when I talk.

  “I will never give up, Parrish. Do you understand that? You might be an asshole, and a lazy sloth, and totally and completely annoying but … as much as I hated you, I care about you just as much now. So tell me. What do I need to do?”

  He swallows hard, wetting his dry and scabbed lips with his tongue.

  “You have to set the theater on fire.”

&nbs
p; It takes me a good thirty seconds for that to sink in. Parrish just sits there, looking at me, watching me. Maybe he doesn’t think I can handle it? Or maybe he just doesn’t want me to do it? There’s a chance someone could get hurt. There’s a chance I could get caught. Mostly, I’m thinking about Danyella.

  “Go into the prop room, douse it with a five gallon can of gasoline, and light it up.” Parrish sniffles, the dried blood beneath his nose a concerning sight. How badly was he beaten before he was tied up? How deep are those cuts on his chest? How much blood has he lost?

  The video cuts out and I grit my teeth, that panicky feeling taking over me again. Every time I see him, I can’t help but wonder if it’s the last. I end up putting my back to the wall and sliding down until I’m sitting. That’s where I remain until Chasm finds me a few minutes later.

  “You got another message, didn’t you?” he asks me, but I don’t have to answer that question. He knows. I look up to find him watching me, his back to the door to make sure that nobody else comes in unannounced.

  “He wants me to set the prop room on fire.” It sounds absurd when I say it. It won’t be the worst thing I do before the end of the school year though. I don’t know that in the moment which is probably a good thing. A great thing, actually. If I’d known all the shit I was about to get myself into, I might not have had the strength to push through. “We need a gas can and a lighter.”

  Chasm moves over to crouch beside me, taking the phone from my hand and reading the text before looking back up at me. I never get a call when he’s in the room with me. That’s got to be intentional. The question isn’t ‘am I being watched?’, it’s how am I being watched?

  “You’re serious about this?” he asks me, and I nod, looking up and into his amber eyes. The first time I met him, I was convinced he was one of the prettiest human beings I’d ever seen. I stand by that, even now. The only difference is that I’m starting to realize he’s just as pretty—prettier—on the inside than he is on the outside.

  Chasm hasn’t seen the video calls; I didn’t even show him the one I recorded. He’s just taking my word for it. It’s a huge leap of faith for someone I’ve only known for three months.