by Ellis Marie
I grit my teeth at her words, already knowing that I don’t stand a chance if anyone sees me.
“I just want to see if Cam and Kristie are there,” I reply, fear lacing my words. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but—”
“I’ll stay here,” Tracey states with boredom in her voice that almost makes me feel calm. “You have no way of getting home otherwise, so . . .”
It’s almost comical that the one person helping me is the one person who I thought hated me most in this world, but here we are.
“But if anyone comes towards me, I’m leaving you behind.” The calmness to her voice disappears for a moment as her neck tenses. “I don’t want to end up like Andy.”
That makes two of us.
“And that’s completely fair,” I agree, opening the door of the car. “If I’m not back in thirty minutes, then—”
“Then I’m driving home and getting myself a Starbucks while pretending that I had nothing to do with this,” she finishes for me, her deadpan expression letting me know how serious she is.
Well, safe to say I have thirty minutes then.
Out of everything, this makes me laugh, the normality of Tracey being a bit of a b*tch puts my nerves at ease and lets me get out the car with a small smile on my face. As I go to shut the door, I quickly catch it, poking my head down one last time.
“Oh, by the way, Tracey,” I say casually, interrupting her self-assessment in the mirror. “I still think you can be a good person. You might just have a lot of apologising to do.”
I shut the door quickly after I finish, making sure to not slam it as to not alert anyone with my presence. Tracey’s shocked face is clear through the windscreen, and I try not to laugh as I walk away, my heart already beginning to beat faster.
I can do this. I can do this.
“Hey, Elle.” I spin around quickly to see the blonde girl’s head sticking out her window, her voice a hush. “Try not to get hurt, I’m not living with that guilt.”
The window slides up straight after, but I still smile at her, appreciating the words—the ones she has said and the ones that she hasn’t.
I would love to spend time sitting with her and talking about all the hardships that we’ve gone through and how we’re probably not that different at our cores, but as the wind picks up around me, I’m blatantly reminded that my two best friends could currently be getting held captive by my psycho ex and his friends.
“There’s a sentence I never thought I’d say,” I whisper to myself as I crouch down, moving behind the row of bushes.
Tracey was right in saying the cabin was old; it looks like it hasn’t been lived in for quite some time, but from the lights inside and the cars peeking out from behind it, it’s clear that that’s not the case, then I spot it.
“The rolling lemon,” I whisper.
Kristie is here. Now, I just needed to show Trent this place.
I reach for my phone, ready to take a picture and send it to him so that he can help get my friends back, but my hands come up empty. My pocket’s far too light.
I don’t have my phone.
Panic fills me as I glance back at the way I’ve just come, my eyes scouring the ground for it in case I’ve dropped it. It’s only when I look up and see Tracey’s car in the distance that I remember shoving it in her door.
“F*ck,” I mutter, already beginning to turn to go back and get it. “I’m the worst rescuer ever.”
“Yes,” a voice says from behind me. A dark humorous tone twists my guts as I freeze in place. “Yes, you definitely are.”
I open my mouth to scream and prepare my legs to run towards Tracey’s car, but before I can so much as take a breath, something hits me over the back of the head and I fall to my knees, my head spinning.
I’m definitely going to be longer than thirty minutes.
***
I’m back in the same place I dreamed of before.
I don’t know how I know that it’s the same place because it’s still blurred and unrecognisable, but something I feel lets me know that I’m here.
The pink that I saw above me before, which I now realise are blossom trees. Running water that sounds like a soft electric pulse. A glow surrounds everything, almost angelically. The grass beneath my feet is like cotton.
It’s quiet. Peaceful. Still.
The woman stands in front of me again, faceless, but her hands are stretched out, waiting for me to accept it. Her dark hair blows like the trees.
As I reach, her mouth forms, lips on a bare canvas.
Wake up, Elle.
Her voice is so familiar, yet one I can’t place.
Wake up, Elle. Wake up.
“Elle! Wake up!”
My eyes pop open as my body is shaken gently, the soft cries above me and the panicked tone letting me know immediately that wherever I am, it’s not good.
As fogginess disappears from my eyes and lingers in my head, I realise that there’s a person sitting beside me with eyes wide and full of tears.
“Kristie!”
Immediately, we’re in an embrace, latching our arms onto each other with soft sobs. I cling to my best friend like our lives depend on it.
Maybe they do.
“Oh my god, Kristie, you’re alive!” I cry, relief pouring over me as I hold her tear-stained face in my hands. “I was so worried!”
She doesn’t look hurt apart from the marks of dirt on her face and the red ring around her eyes from crying, but other than that, she looks the exact same.
“What are you doing here?” she cries, her smile happy but confused.
“I came to see if they had you, but someone hit me over the back of the head, and I—”
“You came alone?” Her tone of disbelief doesn’t get missed. I wave a hand as I let out a strained laugh.
“Of course not!” I say as though it’s obvious, and I watch the relief on her features. “Tracey drove me.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Kristie says flatly, sitting back on her knees and taking her hands off me. “Did you say Tracey? As in, Tracey who hates us and has tried to ruin our lives for years? Tracey who slept with not only your boyfriend but mine too? That Tracey?”
Yikes.
“I mean . . . yeah.” I wince, trying to put an innocent smile on my face. “She was pretty upset by Andy, and she offered and-”
“I seriously go missing for not even a full day and you make friends with Tracey Harrow.” She rolls her eyes. “And you trusted her? How do you actually survive without me?”
She has a point.
“Yeah.” I frown. “Come to think of it, this definitely could have been a set up.”
Kristie snorts. “You think? I heard them talking upstairs, and they mentioned that she was heading here, so I think you may have been well and truly f*cked over.”
That b*tch.
“Of course, she did,” I groan, now beginning to feel the pain in the back of my head. “And my phone is in her car.”
“Oh, fantastic,” Kristie sighs, sitting down beside me and getting comfortable while stretching her legs out ahead. “I’m not being funny, but if you were planning on doing this again, maybe next time bring back up or someone who you can actually trust.”
“How could I? You’re in here.”
She tuts at my comment and nudges me in the side, but we both smile nonetheless.
“Kiss ass.”
I look around the room we’re in, realising that, of course, it isn’t a room but more of a cell—the bars on one side letting me see out into the corridor that looks as dreary and damp as the rest of the place. Above us, I can hear people’s footsteps and muffled voices.
“We need to try and get out of here,” I say quietly, already moving over to try and see a way out in the light. “We can’t stay.”
“I know that I seem fine because I’ve already worked through the panic and confusion and cried it out for a couple of hours, and now, I think I’m just in numb acceptance.” She clears her throat. “But, Elle,
may I ask what the f*ck is actually going on and why you don’t seem surprised at any of this?”
I pause in my movements, not really knowing quite what to say to Kristie or how to explain why exactly she’s here. It’s not as if I truly know myself. I begin to turn around to her, ready to come up with an excuse or explanation, but before I can, there’s a noise from the top of the stairs and a door swings open.
Kristie and I look at each other with wide eyes as we move to the back of the space, our hands grasping onto one another as we hold our breath.
Goose bumps rise on my arms as the footsteps get louder, the echo of them flooding the hallway. I hold my breath as they move closer.
Is it Matt?
Their feet hit the last step.
My father?
Their shadow begins to creep over the floor, growing larger and larger.
Carter?
Finally, they stop right in front of us, and the light illuminates their face.
“Cam?”
At the sound of my voice, he snaps his head up. His own relief is evident as he shouts my name and comes to the bars, reaching his hands through as I run at him.
“Thank god, you’re okay! You’ve been out for about an hour,” he exclaims as soon as his hands touch mine. “I was beginning to worry.”
“I’m alright,” I assure, managing to wrap my arms around him as he does the same to me, the bars between us digging into my skin and bones, but for the moment, I don’t care.
He’s alright.
“I was more worried about you!” I gasp, pulling myself out his hold and wrapping my fingers around the metal. “What happened? Where have you been?”
He opens his mouth to reply with hesitance on his face, but I quickly shush him, my eyes darting upstairs.
“Actually, we can talk about it later,” I suggest with a wince. “Can you get us out? If we make a run for it, we could probably make it, especially with you, they won’t be able to . . .”
It’s now that I take in the way he’s standing across from me—almost embarrassed, quiet . . . and completely unharmed.
“Cam?” I ask, taking a step back. My mind is already objecting to the thoughts that are beginning to grow in it, the tickling of realisation making my knees lock and my fingers shake.
He has a stone-like expression on his face. His puppy dog eyes are begging me to listen, but his jaw is gritted like he’s struggling to figure out what to say.
“Elle.”
From behind me, Kristie gently takes my hand with her eyes locked on Cam and his shoulders that have bent forward in shame.
I think of him smiling, laughing with me, and telling jokes to stop me from crying. I think of him at the beach, joking with Scarlette, and chasing after Tom, his arms open wide as he turns to pick me up and throw me in the water.
My best friend. No.
“Why aren’t you letting us out, Cam?” I ask, a breathlessness to my voice that tells him that I already know. I just need him to say it. “Why are you on the other side of the bars and not in here with us?”
Traitor.
“Why would he?” Kristie spits, betrayal burning in her features as she snarls at our friend. “He’s the one that brought me here.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
My mind stops working. This can’t be right.
Cam moves forward, stretching his hand through the gap at me with pleading brows and a quivering lip begging me to listen. I flinch, taking three steps back.
“Elle, please,” his voice croaks. “This isn’t about you, I swear. They just want Trent.”
What?
“This is about you and this vendetta you have against her boyfriend?” Kristie laughs venomously. “Jesus, Cam, you are so pathetic, you know that.”
His eyes snap away from me and turn to herwith a darkness coming over his features as his knuckles turn pale.
“Stay out of things you don’t understand, Kristie,” he warns. She lets out a shrill noise in response, her voice getting louder.
“‘Stay out of it’,” she mocks in a screech. “I don’t think I really got the choice to do that when you abducted me and drove us here in my own car, you moron.”
Cam sighs in frustration, loosening his grip as his head bows down. “I already apologised and told you that wasn’t meant to happen.”
“Oh right,” Kristie snorts. “Like an apology is going to cut it right now.”
The pieces all fall together one by one, my mind picking up on everything that I’ve missed being so naive.
Cam being attacked, needing a place to stay - it was all a set up. He was there to get into the packhouse, he was there to get to Trent, he...
“You were meant to take me, weren’t you?” I ask, staring at the top of his head as he hunches over. “That’s why Scarlette could smell you. You came to my room to take me, but—”
“But you were in his room, that monster,” Cam hisses, slowly raising his head, and now, I see the anger in his gaze and the twitch of his forehead. “Kristie was in yours and I panicked, Elle. I needed to help you quickly after what happened at the beach.”
“What do you mean I need help?” I cry, stepping towards him. My words shake with every emotion that it possibly can—fear, confusion, pain, betrayal, sadness, anger. I’m a kaleidoscope of combusting feelings that seem to wrack my body with grief.
“What could possibly be so bad that being trapped in here is better?”
Cam would never hurt us, I know that. I have to know that; otherwise, my entire life will have been a lie, our friendship will have been fake.
I just can’t let myself believe that he would ever betray me.
“Why are you doing this, Cam?” I ask, wrapping my hands around his, begging to break through to him. “What do they have over you?”
His eyes turn soft, uncurling his hands from their fists to entangle them with my own. There’s a flicker of regret across his features and his mouth opens, ready to speak.
And then clapping from above us begins—a slow applause that accompanies every step coming towards us.
“And there she is, ladies and gentlemen, Annabelle Williams, the girl who thinks her friends can do no wrong.”
I shouldn’t be shocked that it’s him. I already know that he is involved in this, that he’s hurting people, and that he could be here, hiding out from people far stronger than him, but hearing his voice is different. It brings back the memories, the pain. The remembrance that to him, I’m property—worthless unless I’m doing something useful.
It brings back the nights crying. The hopelessness. The fear.
Seeing him as he steps around the corner is much worse. It makes the memories of him when he was kind flood my mind—warm days in the sun, experiencing the first of everything hand in hand together when it seemed like he cared. When I thought it was love.
“Matt.” The word falls out of my lips, like a gasp that’s barely audible.
He runs a hand through his hair, the blond still shining but the length longer now—unkempt, untamed. Out of control.
“Hi, Princess.” He chuckles, running his tongue along his teeth.“You missed me?”
I don’t think it’s possible for him to become more arrogant, but clearly, I’m wrong.
As he sidles up beside Cam, I rip my hands away from my friend and stumble back, not wanting to be anywhere near the assh*le that I used to call my boyfriend.
“I thought I could smell something bad,” Kristie mutters from behind me. “I should know the stench of a rat by now. You dated it for years.”
It’s like he’s a lion, stalking back and forth, prowling until he has a chance to attack. I don’t like the feeling of being trapped, locked in his sights, and powerless to do anything but stay still and hope that I don’t trigger him. Kristie has always been braver when it came to him; she never hid her dislike, but she doesn’t know what he’s really capable of.
“You better watch your mouth.” Matt chuckles, clenching his jaw. “Or I might just have to d
o something about it.”
“Bite me, Daley.”
He slams his hands on the metal bars, making the whole frame shake. He spits at Kristie, his nostrils flaring as he growls warnings at her. The two of us flinch back in response, which only makes him grin and settle back down after a moment. His smug smile stretches across his face at the knowledge that he still scares us—scares me. Maybe he always will.
“As I’ve always said, Anna,” Matt says sardonically, his eyes coming back to me as he straightens out his shirt. “You have impeccable taste in friends.”
I don’t miss the way his eyes shoot over to Cam, or how the latter’s face drops at the insinuation. I hate the way I shake while watching. I am not weak.
“It’s Elle, actually,” I hiss back, clenching my fists at my sides. “And if they’re so bad, why is it that you’ve made one of them your friend?”
Matt scoffs at the idea and rolls his eyes, looking at his nails with faint disinterest. “Don’t get smart with me, Anna. We’re not friends.” He laughs. “We just have a common enemy. Enemy of thy enemy and all that boring literature that you enjoy, shouldn’t you know that?”
I feel sick. My bones feel like they’re rattling, crumbling to my feet. He’s unhinged. I can see it in the ticking of his neck and the way his fingers keep twitching every few seconds. I don’t know this person, not in the slightest, but maybe I never did.
Maybe Tracey was right when she said that he would be far worse if I hadn’t tried to help him. Maybe this is just his true nature finally breaking free.
“And your enemy is Trent?” I state, watching how the curve of his lip changes at the mention of his name. “And your plan is what? To wait for him to come and get me? String me out like bait?”
“No, Elle,” Cam says softly, reaching for me again. “That’s not—”
“Do you honestly think we’re that cliché?” Matt interrupts, knocking his hand out of the way and shooting daggers at Cam, whose mouth snaps shut. “You being here is a surprise to us all, considering we had to come up with a new plan after someone took the wrong girl this morning. A very annoying mix up, might I add.”
