The Lost

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The Lost Page 22

by Natasha Preston


  “Let’s go, sweetheart,” she whispers.

  Hazel and Priya have already left. We’re all supposed to get checked out at the hospital or at the very least with our doctor. We’ve been through a lot, and the cops recommended getting our eyes and hearing checked. I feel fine. I don’t think there is any lasting damage from the torture, but I will make an appointment.

  I’m in the back of the car, watching the cornfields whiz past again.

  The car is silent, no one quite knowing what to say. They know I wasn’t sexually abused and that offered a lot of relief, but beyond that, they’ve barely asked a thing. Dad might know what’s happened, but Mom doesn’t yet. I think she’s scared to. Not only for me but for them.

  Who wants to talk about the most difficult things? No one, that’s who.

  So I follow suit, more than happy not to go back there, at least not yet.

  I don’t want to think about any of it right now. I just want to be safe in my room, far away from Caleb and Evan, who are still being questioned at the station.

  I’m not sure if the entire town knows what’s happened yet, but news travels fast, so I can’t imagine it will be long. I’m not leaving the house until gossip dies down.

  I hope it dies down soon because all I want is to move forward, which is really hard to do when everyone I come in contact with wants to know how I’m doing. Which is just an in so they can then ask the questions they really wants to know, such as what it was like and details of what I went through. All things I would rather not discuss with anyone, let alone practical strangers.

  We pull into the driveway. Somehow the house looks smaller. I get out of the car. Mom and Dad follow me closely, as if they’re scared to let me more than two feet away from them.

  Mom lets us in, and I head straight for my room. “If it’s okay, I just want to sleep.”

  “Of course,” Dad replies. “We’ll be out here if you need us.”

  “If you need anything,” Mom adds, her eyes wet with tears.

  “Thanks,” I murmur as I walk away to curl up in my room and pretend everything is going to be okay.

  41

  Evan

  Caleb and I are in the back of a cop car. We are being taken to a jail cell in the city since our town’s station is tiny.

  Piper was being taken into an interview room the last time I saw her. It was only a quick glimpse while I was being hauled from one room to another.

  I have to get out of this, or I won’t see her again. This is my only chance for the ending I want. Once I’m in a cell, that’s it. We have two cops in the front, and we’re handcuffed to the seat. We’re only in the same car because the others are at the scene, cops still scouring the building—what’s left of it—and the surrounding areas.

  Apparently they found the graves. They told me that like it was a major find. It wasn’t even hidden. Idiots.

  We turn out of town, and now it’s just miles and miles of nothing until we hit the city. We have to act fast and soon.

  Either side of us is cornfields. There are no other cars, and this cop car has nothing to separate the front from the back. They’re trusting that the handcuffs will prevent us from trying anything. They have no idea who we are.

  I make eye contact with Caleb, a secret conversation passing through one glance. He dips his chin, confirming he understands and he’s in. Of course he is.

  We turn our heads, and both reach out.

  My heart soars as I choke the cop in front of me, with Caleb doing the same to the other one beside me. I grin as I pull my hands back, the chain of the handcuffs cutting into his neck. Choking fills the air, and it’s the most satisfying sound I’ve heard since Caleb and I shot four people earlier. The car veers off the road. We don’t have long until we’re going to crash, but I welcome it. I yank my hand back from the cop’s head and feel the metal chain of the cuffs cut into his throat. His head lolls to the side at the same time we hit a ditch.

  The car stops abruptly as it smashes right down into a ditch and falls to the side. Glass smashes, sending shards scattering through the car. My head slams into the headrest in front of me.

  Shaking my head, I blink hard and remove my hands from around the cop.

  With a groan, I roll my neck and turn to Caleb. His eyes are alight, grin stretched the width of his face. “All good?” I ask.

  Caleb laughs.

  “Fun, right?”

  There is no stopping us.

  “We going to get your girl now?” he asks.

  “We have to get a car first, and we need to be quick.” It takes thirty minutes to get to the city, so assuming no one will try to make contact with the cop before that, we have half an hour to get her. “But when we have her, we’re painting the town with blood.”

  I climb between the two front seats and take the keys from the cop’s pocket. I undo my cuffs first and then Caleb’s.

  “Come on,” I say, grabbing the radio as I get out the driver’s side door over the dead cop.

  Caleb climbs out, too, and we take off down the road, running back toward town. The ditch is deep, but if you look, you can just about see the back corner of the car.

  We sprint, the sun mercilessly beating down and making it hard to breathe.

  “Where are we getting a car?” Caleb asks.

  “The Pilkins’ farm,” I reply. It’s the first property along this road, so we won’t have to go far. They have a whole heap of beat-up cars. Easy to hot-wire. It might even take them a while to realize one is gone, so we’ll have a head start before the car is reported stolen.

  It’ll be obvious who took it once the cops realize we’ve got away.

  We run down the road until we come to the entrance of the Pilkins’ long drive. Their house is set back away from the road, their cars parked in and near the garage, slightly hiding their line of sight.

  “The Ford on the end at the back,” I say. It’s the farthest one away and behind two other cars, so with a bit of luck, we should be able to get it out without being seen.

  I’ve never hot-wired a car before—my crimes are a little more upscale than that—but thankfully Caleb’s criminal career began with juvenile stuff like this.

  “All right,” he says, rubbing his hands.

  Creeping up the drive, I bend my back so I’m lower to the ground. There are a few trees lining the way, but nowhere near enough to disguise us.

  Caleb reaches the car first and opens the door. Another good thing about this family is they’re sweet as hell and trust the whole town. Their cars are unlocked. Unfortunately they’re not so trusting that they leave the keys inside.

  He leans in the car and tugs on wires.

  I look around, scanning the farmhouse and outbuildings. There is no one around. Not yet anyway.

  “Come on, Caleb,” I whisper. Piper is waiting, and we don’t have time.

  “Almost there,” he replies and the car roars to life.

  I run around to the driver side, taking one last look at the house. No one there.

  Caleb hops in the passenger seat, and we peel out of the drive. I hold onto the steering wheel with two fists as I make the sharp turn onto the main road.

  Caleb thuds against the door and chuckles. “Easy, man.”

  “Don’t be a baby. You’re loving this as much as I am.”

  “I don’t think that’s possible.”

  No, maybe not. I was born for this. Even as a child, I didn’t follow rules. There is nothing fun in doing the same as everyone else.

  I speed down the empty roads. Piper lives in a quiet cul-de-sac. I know I can’t drive down there, not if we’ve been found out. Nothing has come on the radio yet, but I’m taking no chances. The second they discover us gone, the cops will be here. We can’t be trapped.

  So I park on the street around the corner from her house. The only houses her
e are run-down bungalows, probably belonging to very old people.

  “When I get out, hop in the driver’s seat. I’ll be back with her soon,” I tell Caleb.

  “Hurry up,” he replies, his eyes wild as he tries to look everywhere all at once.

  “Caleb, calm down.”

  “I am calm, and you need to get a move on.”

  I deadpan, “Hold it together.” I slip out of the driver’s seat, leaving the car running and the door open so Caleb can get in. I’ll sit in the back with Piper when I get her.

  The sun is setting, offering me a little camouflage.

  There are two streetlights on, one near the back of her house.

  I walk between a bungalow and a fence to Piper’s backyard and hop over the low fence. Her yard is overgrown, but it looks recent. Her parents weren’t keeping up with the lawn while she was with me.

  Creeping toward her bungalow, I place my hands on the windowsill and peek through the window. The sight of her sitting on her bed with her arms wrapped around her legs steals my breath. My deadly angel. I can’t wait to show her my world. She’s staring blankly at something, a TV perhaps.

  Her eyes, usually strong and determined, are now dull and afraid…the way they were when I very first met her.

  She needs me.

  There is no one else in her room. I know her parents are home; there is no way they would go out and leave her now. They probably won’t ever leave her side again. Well, that is, until I take her with me.

  It’s hot, so her window is open, but that doesn’t mean I’ll be able to get through it fast enough to stop her from calling for her parents.

  Right now, she doesn’t know what’s best for her.

  I grip either side of the window frame and swing my legs up. I land on the floor inside her room before she even looks over.

  When she does, her mouth opens and her eyes round.

  Shoving myself forward, I slam my hand over her mouth and grip her upper arm. “Don’t make a sound, Piper.”

  She watches me over my hand, fear swamping her eyes.

  “Hey, Piper, it’s me. Don’t be afraid. I’m going to remove my hand. Do not scream.” I slowly let go and run my hand from her mouth along her jaw. “Hi, babe.”

  “What are you doing here?” she whispers.

  “Relax,” I soothe. Her muscles are tense, shoulders high. “I’ve missed you.”

  “E-Evan… What are you doing? How are you here?” Her eyes flit to her door. Don’t you dare call out.

  “Leave without you? Not a chance. Caleb is waiting in the car. Grab a few things and let’s go.”

  “What?” Her eyes dart to her bedroom door.

  “I’m not letting them lock me up and leave you.”

  “But…”

  Sighing, I say, “Caleb and I got away. We’re here to take you with us. Are you caught up now? Can you start packing?”

  Her mouth pops open. It takes her a minute to make a sound. “I-I can’t.”

  “If you’re not packed and in the car before your parents come back, I’ll be forced to kill them.”

  “No,” she whimpers, shaking her head. “I’ll come, just please don’t hurt them.”

  “Pack, Piper. Now.”

  She leaps up and runs to her closet. I stand and watch her throw clothes in a bag with trembling hands.

  “I know you’re scared, but there is no need. I’m about to open up your world.”

  Pressing her lips together, her eyes fill with tears, but she doesn’t stop shoving clothes in her bag.

  “You are going to love what I have planned,” I tell her.

  Freezing for a second, she sucks in a breath. But it only takes her a second to recover before she continues packing some things.

  “Hurry up,” I prompt.

  She zips her bag and stands. “Don’t hurt me, Evan.”

  What the hell does she think I am?

  I close the distance between us. “I love you. That very first time I saw you, I knew there was something special about you. I felt it. We’re the same, only you haven’t let it out yet.”

  “What?” she sputters.

  “You’re so strong. You can take so much. Let yourself free, Piper. I’ll teach you. We’re going to start again. You and me, with the help of Caleb. We’re moving on to bigger things. We’re rebuilding. It’ll be bigger and better, and it’ll be you and me in the driver’s seat.”

  With Piper at my side, there will be no stopping us. We can do whatever we want, no one to stop us and nothing to hold us back.

  She looks up at me unsure, but that doesn’t stop her from throwing her bag over her shoulder.

  “Let’s go, babe.” I grin.

  We’re going to be one killer team.

  Acknowledgments

  I first need to say a big thank-you to my husband and our two boys for supporting me. I love you guys.

  To my Facebook reader group, who are so enthusiastic whenever I talk about a new book. Speaking to you always inspires me to write.

  My editors at Sourcebooks: Annette Pollert-Morgan, Steve Geck, and Cassie Gutman, thank you for your hard work in helping me shape this manuscript. And to Nicole Hower (cover is GORGEOUS!), and everyone else who has worked on this book. I’m sorry that I don’t know you all personally, but I appreciate all that you do for me.

  And lastly, to the readers. Thank you so much for picking up The Lost. I hope you enjoyed the journey in my little house of horrors.

  About the Author

  UK native Natasha Preston grew up in small villages and towns. She discovered her love of writing when she stumbled across an amateur writing site and uploaded her first story, and she hasn’t looked back since. She enjoys writing NA romance, thrillers, gritty YA, and the occasional serial killer thriller.

  You can visit her at natashapreston.com or find her on Facebook, Twitter @natashavpreston, or Instagram @natashapreston5.

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  1

  Thursday

  February 1

  Valentine’s Day. Ugh. Of all the holidays, this one is my least favorite.

  I give the paper hearts Charlotte decorated our living room with a mental eye roll. Two of my roommates, Sienna and Charlotte, are super into Valentine’s Day.

  Fourteen days until all of social media is swarmed with cutesy couple photos and declarations of love, and I’m already living in an explosion of pink and red do-it-yourself crafts.

  Puke.

  The theater students put on a show every year about the story of Saint Valentine. Only they use dramatic license to make it sexier and bloodier. Last year was amazing, and this year is supposed to be better.

  Plus there’s an after-party.

  My housemates—Chace, Sonny, Isaac, Charlotte—and I are lounging in the living room waiting for Sienna to be ready so we can head out. There is just enough space for us all in the modest room.

  “Turn it up, Lylah,” Sonny orders. Sonny is from London and speaks like he’s a gangster. He’s far too soft to be one though.

  I stand and dip in a sarcastic curtsy before adjusting the volume on the speakers that are paired with Sonny’s iPhone. Puff Daddy’s I’ll Be Missing You blasts through the room.

  Sonny is the oldest and, like a child, thinks that gives him the right to order everyone around. He’s not all bad, but I don’t think he heard the word no his entire childhood.

  He ignores me and taps on
his phone, likely lining up tonight’s hookup.

  Chace, who is a media student like me, smirks. I stick out my tongue at him. We met on our first day at college when we got lost on campus together and then stuck together in an attempt to look like we knew where we were going. Since then, we’ve spent countless hours watching movies, working on projects, and hanging out. Besides Sienna, Chace is my best friend. It didn’t take long after meeting him to start having feelings for him—actually, it was about three minutes. I don’t think he feels the same way though, because he treats me like one of the guys. But recently he’s been finding more and more reasons for us to spend time alone together. I’m definitely not imagining it. Well, I don’t think I’m imagining it.

  Sienna appears in the doorway. “Lylah, are you sure this is the one?” she asks, running her hands down the sides of her blood-red dress.

  Raising an eyebrow, I reply, “No, you look awful.” She doesn’t and she knows it.

  Sienna is stunning. Born in Korea, she and her family moved to the United Kingdom when she was two years old. Her hair is unfairly sleek and shiny, and she wouldn’t be out of place on the catwalk, though she’s probably a bit short for that.

  “Shut up. Tonight is my night with Nathan. I’m going to make him fall in love with me if it kills me.”

  Two weeks until Valentine’s Day, and everyone is supposed to be coupled up. Chace doesn’t seem to hate the day, so maybe he’ll surprise me. Maybe I wouldn’t dislike Valentine’s Day as much if he had feelings for me too. “Sie, don’t give it away, babe,” Isaac says, throwing an arm around her shoulders. “Make him work for it.”

  Isaac is a brave, stupid man.

  Sienna’s black eyes darken as she shoots Isaac a look that could kill. “Thanks for that,” she replies, sarcasm dripping from each word.

  Taking a step back, he drops his arm and runs his hand through his short, black hair.

  “Only trying to help,” he defends.

 

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