“Derrick,” I said. He looked at me curiously. “Have you seen a black and gray dog about this high?“ I held my hand about knee-height. “Maybe chasing a car?”
Derrick stared at me with wide eyes. Then he ran for the front door and slammed it behind him.
My heart sank. Elly’s SUV wasn’t there. Was Elly even home?
I went up to the front door and knocked. No one answered. I pounded on the door. “Derrick! Derrick, is your mom home?”
God, had Elly gone to Liz Antwerp’s for more drugs? Had she left her boy home alone?
I couldn’t help myself—I drove to Maple Street and the house where I’d followed Elly yesterday.
But her car wasn’t there either.
A small car with a dented fender roared onto the street. Its brakes whined noisily as it lurched to a stop. A woman with pink hair and too much makeup got out. She glanced up the street, her eyes sliding over me, and suddenly I recognized her.
It was Zoe Mitchell.
Chapter 28
“Zoe!” I called. “Zoe, hey!” I hurried across the street.
Zoe turned, her eyes growing wide with recognition. I reeled back at how much she’d aged. It was like she’d been through a thousand lifetimes. Her bright pink hair was cut short, her skin flaccid and pale. She wore a tight-fitting t-shirt and too-small shorts that revealed long, thin legs.
Up close, Zoe’s eyes bruised and hollow.
“Mady?” Her voice hitched in surprise. “What are you doing here?”
“My dad’s dog ran away and I saw you and I—” I broke off. “I got your message. I was worried about you.”
“Oh.” She glanced at the house. “Yeah, I’m sorry about your dad.”
“Are you okay?” I asked. “I’ve been looking for you.”
The door of the cottage home opened and Lizzy Antwerp appeared.
“Something wrong, Zo?” she called, squinting into the sunshine.
“It’s fine, Liz,” Zoe said, then turned back to me. “Bye, Mady.”
“Wait!” I chased after her.
Zoe turned, and I recoiled at the hatred on her face. “You need to get out of here,” she said through clenched teeth. “Now.”
“Hey,” Liz called across the lawn, her eyes on me. “This the girl you were looking for?”
“Get out of here, Mady,” Zoe hissed.
But I couldn’t leave. The past kept me glued to the spot, unable to let go until I made sure she was okay.
“Zo,” Liz said, “Bring your friend inside. She been looking for you.”
Zoe and I looked at each other, the air between us suddenly infused with a terrible charge. “You shouldn’t have come here.”
Anger spiked. “I came back looking for you, you know? When I found my dad.”
Zoe’s face paled.
I leaned closer and dropped my voice. “Are you in danger? Do you want me to call your dad?”
“No!”
“Zo’.” Liz took a step off the porch, her head tilted curiously. “What’s going on? Is she hassling you?”
“She’s just leaving,” Zoe said, eyes boring into me. “Aren’t you, Mady?”
“Mady?” Liz’s brows furrowed. “Didn’t you say your name was Kaitlyn?” Then Liz’s eyes lit up. “Holy shit, you’re Graves’ kid, ain’t you? I knew you looked familiar.”
My breath froze in my lungs. Liz towered over me, a terrifying gleam in her eyes. “Why don’t you come inside?” she said.
I shook my head, unable to speak.
“Yeah,” Liz said, her tone broking no argument. “Come on in.”
It was dark inside the house. The windows were covered in bedsheets, the air stuffy and thick, heavy with the smell of sweat, rotting food, and marijuana. A television hung from the wall, a first-person shooter video game paused on its large screen. Some kind of white residue was visible among the empty beer bottles and cigarette packs that littered the coffee table. Several tiny, spent blunts spilled from an ash tray.
Liz gestured to a ratty armchair. I shook my head.
Anger flashed across Liz’s face at my insolence, but she sat on the couch and tapped a cigarette from a pack on the table. She lit it and leaned back, studying me.
“How’d you know Zoe was here,” she said.
I glanced at Zoe, who’d gone pale and shrank in on herself.
If I said I’d come upon her by chance, Liz would know no one knew where I was. So I said, “Her dad told me.”
Liz suddenly went very still. The smoke from the cigarette wafted up to the ceiling in a thin undulating line. A television blared from a bedroom down the hall. Outside, the dogs started to bark again.
“Is that right?” Liz said, her eyes falling on Zoe.
Zoe, eyes wide, shook her head almost imperceptibly. “He—he doesn’t know. Liz, I swear he doesn’t know where I am.”
Liz turned her cold gaze on me. “Are you lying to me, Mady?” The way she said it sent a cold dread racing up my spine.
“I—he didn’t know for sure,” I backtracked. “But he—he—“
The floorboards in the hall creaked. A dark form filled the doorway. “What’s going on?” rumbled a deep voice. Then Tristan Dempster, the size of a linebacker with the face of a cherub, stepped into the living room. He nodded at me. “Who’s this?”
“It’s Mady Graves,” Liz said, the delight in her voice sending a cold wave of fear over me. “I think she wants to know what happened to her dad.”
“I bet she does.” Tristan’s eyes moved over my body slowly.
I looked at Zoe, desperate for help, but Zoe made no move to help, her face expressionless.
“What do you think, Zo,” Liz said. “Should we tell her?”
Zoe wouldn’t look at me. She wouldn’t look at anyone. She was like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
Tristan’s hand shot out and shoved Zoe in the shoulder. “She asked you a question.” The force of the blow unbalanced Zoe and she stumbled against the wall.
“Hey!” The word was out of my mouth before I could stop it. I stepped toward Zoe, but Liz, suddenly there, grabbed my arm.
I swung around, hand raised as though to swat her off.
And in that nano second, her expression shifted into something I’d never seen before. It was cold, colder than anything I’d seen before. The word murderous skittered across my brain.
A deep, sudden, and numbing fear rose up inside me.
I thought of dad: here one second, gone the next, and I realized then how erasable we all were. How easily snuffed out the human spark could be.
Liz’s grip tightened painfully. I tried to scream, but fear had taken my voice.
And still Zoe just stood there.
Cold panic flooded my veins. I pulled hard, her grip a vice on my arm, her fingers digging into my flesh.
“Let go!” I shouted.
Glee flashed in Liz’s eyes, her mouth curling into a malicious grin.
Someone shouted something from down the hall, and in her distraction, I yanked free so suddenly that I stumbled back and fell against the door. The door smashed against the wall and I fell to the floor.
Something tugged my t-shirt upward. I moved with it, stumbling backward and up to my feet. Zoe was there, face stretched, mouth moving. Through the blood pulsing in my ears, I couldn’t hear what she was saying. With an exasperated look, she turned me around and shoved me toward the front door.
Chapter 29
I burst into the bright sunlight, blinking painfully as my eyes adjusted.
“Come on,” someone behind me said. Then Davis Dempster materialized next to me, hand on my upper arm. “Let’s go.”
I stopped and pulled away from his grip.
“Mady—“ He looked hurt.
I started to run, scrambling for my phone.
“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” I repeated as the phone dialed and rang.
Mitch answered after several rings.
“Mitch,” I said, my voice breathless. “I found Zoe. She’s i
n the projects,” I said. “In some kind of drug house or something. Liz Antwerp and—“
“Mady,” Mitch said, “Slow down. Slow down. Tell me—“
Davis snatched the phone away from my ear and pressed the End button.
“Hey!” I grabbed for it but he held it over his head, out of reach.
“Come on,” he said, pulling me toward his beige sedan.
“No! Let go!”
But Davis didn’t listen. His fingers were a vice around my bicep. He yanked open the door, shoved me inside, and slammed it shut. I scrambled for the door handle but where it should have been was just a gaping hole. What the hell?
Davis jumped into the driver’s seat and put the engine in gear.
“Let me out of here!” I screamed pounding on the door, panic rising to strangle me. “Let me out!”
“Calm down,” Davis said, “Please.”
“Fuck you! You’ve been following me since I got back in town!”
“What?” Realization dawned. “Mady, no. I—I’m not following you.”
I scowled. “Oh really? You’ve been trailing me since I got back to Beacon Falls. You were at my father’s funeral, and you’ve been outside my house.”
He cringed. “That’s not what you think.”
“Then what is it? Huh?”
Davis stared out of the dirty windshield. He hadn’t changed much since high school. His face was still sunken, pale, with a spattering of wiry red hair along his chin and upper lip. He wore the same uniform of stoners everywhere: a faded black t-shirt and ripped jeans.
“Beacon Falls is dangerous,” he said at last.
“The only thing dangerous around here is you.”
Davis cringed.
“Where are you taking me?” I demanded.
“Somewhere safe.”
I fought down the cold panic threatening to take over my brain. I wiped at the tears spilling down my cheeks, my muscles tense and aching with adrenaline.
Davis pulled onto Circle Drive and parked along the curb of Mom’s house. I stared at him, confused.
“You have to trust me,” he said, and there was something so desperate in his voice that some of my anger shifted.
“What’s going on, Davis?” I said, my voice high and shaky.
“You shouldn’t have gone to Liz’s.”
I scoffed. “No shit.”
“No,” he said quickly, “I mean…” His face fell and he once again became the scared teenager I remembered from our days together, when he told me about his family, what they expected from him, and how he’d disappointed them at every turn.
“It’s too dangerous,” Davis said. “That’s why I’ve been watching you. To make sure you don’t step into something you—you can’t stop. To protect you.”
But… I tried to reconcile this new information with the Davis I knew—the Davis I thought I knew. I looked at him, for the first time, really truly looked at him. There was something different about Davis. There was an air about him that felt calmer than I’d ever known him to be. Settled. Throughout his life, and definitely in high school, he’d pushed against his family, his reputation given to him by the merit of his last name. Had he finally given up? Is that why he was in that drug house? Because he was a part of the family trade now?
“Zoe has been lying to Liz,” he said.
“Lying about what?”
“She’s been narcing on her.”
“What? Who was narcing on who? Jesus, Davis, just tell me.” Then it hit me. “She was telling her dad—“ I gasped. The look on Davis’s face confirmed. “But I don’t understand,” I said, “She and Mitch haven’t talked in years.”
Davis looked so crestfallen I found myself feeling bad for him. “She came to us asking for drugs, but Liz wouldn’t sell to her because of her dad. A week later, I saw that Zoe moved back in with her dad. I figured she’d given up, decided to get clean. But then a couple months later, Zoe was back.”
I still didn’t understand. Why would Mitch lie to me?
“She told Liz she could give her information,” Davis continued, “In exchange for drugs.”
I tried to digest this information, feeling sick to my stomach. “Zoe gave her information that she learned from her dad? Information about the cops and stuff?”
Davis nodded. He looked green. “And she gave her dad—“
Realization dawned. “She was playing both sides.” Zoe was giving Liz information about the cops and her dad information about Liz.
Then a new thought struck. “I told Liz that Mitch told me where Zoe was.” My voice came out a whisper.
Davis’s eyes went wide. “What? You did?”
“Zoe denied it, but she—oh god. Davis, she looked so scared. I didn’t know why at the time but—but I think I may have blown her cover.” My stomach dropped. “I gotta call Mitch. My phone! Give me back my phone!”
Davis cursed and dropped the car into gear.
Chapter 30
We made it back to Maple Street in record time. Zoe’s car was still parked on the street. The world felt like it was pressing in on me. I fought down the panic threatening to choke my breath away.
What had I done? Why had I thought it was a good idea to mention a cop’s name in a house like that?
I’d come all the way back to Ohio to try to help Zoe and all I ended up doing was putting her into even more danger.
“Stay here,” Davis said.
“No,” I said, ready to crawl over the driver’s seat if I had to.
Davis frowned, but I guess after years of stalking, he knew me well enough to know there was no point in arguing with me once I made up my mind. He came around the front of the car and opened my door.
Clouds swallowed the sun, casting the houses in shadow. In the distance, thunder rumbled. Nearby, some kids were screaming and laughing.
I followed Davis to the front door, feeling like my legs were going to give out. The fear that had taken hold of me was deep and heavy, but tinged with determination to make right with Zoe. After all these years I owed it to her to face whatever lay beyond that door.
Davis glanced at me, his face a mask of concern, and for the first time in my life I was grateful he was here.
From behind the door, a woman cried out. Davis rushed inside, me on his heels. As our eyes adjusted, the scene before me looked like something straight out of a horror movie.
Tristan Dempster was kneeling over Zoe sprawled on the floor, pinning her arms down. Liz bent over her, something held in her bloodied fist.
“Zoe!” I screamed. But as I lunged for her, determined to shield her with my body, Tristan reared up and grabbed me, picking me up like I was no heavier than a backpack.
“Tris!” Davis shouted, leaping in front of his cousin. “Don’t.”
The two stared at one another, me suspended in the air over Tristan’s head. “Put me down!” I shouted, kicking and flailing.
Tristan tossed me onto the couch. I bounced once, biting my tongue.
As the two men argued, I stared wide-eyed at Zoe’s unconscious form on the floor. She was covered in blood and bruises so badly she didn’t look like herself. The only way I knew it was her was from the shock of pink hair, now splashed with blood.
“Knock it off, you two,” Liz snarled. Her knuckles were swollen and bloody as she clutched something, which I now could see was a cell phone. Someone’s tinny voice sounded from it.
Liz put the phone back to her ear. “It seems we’ve got some unexpected…collateral,” she said, her voice cold. “I’ll have to call you back. Bye, Mitch.” The last words were sing-song, like she was talking to a friend.
“What the hell did you do, Liz?” Davis said, kneeling before Zoe’s limp body. He checked for a pulse.
“You have a lot of balls, boy,” Tristan said, his voice a growl. “Coming back here after what you did.”
“What?” Davis said, getting to his feet. He shook with anger. “Keeping your filthy hands off innocent women?” He turned to Liz. �
��Do you believe me now? What a piece of trash he is?” He lifted a chin in Tristan’s direction.
Tristan’s softball-sized fist collided with the side of Davis’s head. His head snapped around, blood and spit flying.
“Davis!” I screamed. But Davis couldn’t hear me. The blow had knocked him unconscious. He slumped to the floor.
The front door burst open, filling the room with light that scorched my eyes.
“GET THE FUCK DOWN!” a deep voice screamed. “GET THE FUCK DOWN NOW!”
The door swung shut, the room once again dark. As the bright flashes faded from my eyes, I saw Mitch, gun drawn. He wore a bullet proof vest over his button-down shirt, and his police belt. At the look of cold hatred on his face, the blood drained from my body. This was a man I’d never seen angry, let alone murderous.
He surveyed the scene, and when his eyes fell upon me, his expression shifted into confusion before settling back into a cold professionalism. Tristan remained frozen with his hands in the air, but Liz got to her feet, her arms at her sides, a frightening smile playing on her lips.
“Get on the floor!” Mitch shouted. “Or I will shoot!”
Tristan glanced at Liz who shook her head.
My ears burst with sound. I clamped my hands over my ears as Tristan was forced back a step.
BAM! BAM! Two more shots and Tristan tipped backwards. I dove out of the way as his giant form hit the couch, inches from where I’d been.
“Jesus Christ!” Liz cried, her eyes wide, staring at Tristan. He wasn’t moving. “You’re fucking crazy!”
Mitch didn’t hesitate. He moved forward and with a single move shoved Liz against the wall. Her forehead bounced off it and blood burst from her nose.
“You fucking bastard,” Liz said, her voice nasally. She twisted around and spat a wad of blood at Mitch. Mitch slammed her head against the wall again.
“Mitch!” I cried.
Mitch hit me with a glare so full of hate that scared me. “Stay out of this, Mady.”
“Zoe’s hurt,” I said, my voice a thousand miles away through the ringing in my ears.
Mitch glanced at his daughter before pushing the muzzle of his gun into Liz’s back. Liz arched painfully but didn’t make a sound.
The Things We Keep Page 12
