Page 18

Chapter 17

Juliet

I’m dead.

There are at least four of them, and they’re all bigger and stronger than me. They’re all willing to do the unthinkable. They won’t stop until they find me and silence me forever.

Boots and sneakers clatter over the brush as the men try to find me in the darkness among the trees. The dark is the only thing keeping me alive right now. The dark the only difference between life and death.

My heart pounds impossibly harder as their footsteps and shouts approach. They’re only a few yards away now.

The air is fresh out here, far from the pollutants of suburbia or city life. Like honeysuckle and newly sprung grass. Unfairly clean and enticing for a place that hides so many horrors.

I retreat a step, the heel of my bare foot slipping and splashing into a shallow stream behind me.

The cool water hits my skin, and my chest seizes, the splash undoubtedly loud enough to alert them about exactly where to find me.

Before I can gasp or scream, a hand covers my mouth.

My heart stops.

But the hand isn’t rough or clammy or smelly. The scent is sweet, soft, like a vanilla candle.

“Did you hear something?” a man shouts.

“Over there!”

They would’ve heard my gasp or scream. They would already be sprinting in this direction if the hand covering my mouth had been a second too late.

“It’s okay.” The faintest whisper in my ear.

A woman’s voice.

My heart kickstarts back to life. Is she a prisoner here too? How did she survive them?

“I’m going to get you to safety. But you have to keep quiet.”

The footsteps are approaching, but we’re frozen, still hidden in the shadows. For now.

“We’re going to run to my car, and I’ll get you home.” Her voice is barely audible, even with her mouth a mere inch from my ear. “You have to promise not to scream. We can’t let them find us.”

She could be one of them. A woman sent to lure me back into their trap.

But my only choice is to trust her. My only chance at escaping with my life.

I nod, and when the woman slips her hand from my lips, I keep my mouth shut.

She takes my hand and leads the way along the stream, guiding us as silently as possible between the trees and away from the men searching for me before we break past the treeline and back onto the short, perfectly manicured grass. A stunning estate with the ugliest secrets.

“Run.”

She still doesn’t let go of my hand as we sprint for a car waiting on an empty road. Or is it a driveway? I can’t tell. This place is like another world.

I barely notice the pain lancing through my bloody, dirty feet as they slap over the grass. But the shouts aren’t approaching. They haven’t spotted us. Yet.

The woman swings the back door open. “Curl up on the floor!”

She eases the door shut behind me as quickly and soundlessly as she can, putting the car in neutral and allowing it to silently roll down the slight incline without turning on the engine or the lights. Without giving us away.

For a second, my chest squeezes painfully. We have to go back for Autumn. We can’t just leave her here.

But there’s no saving her now.

When the woman finally turns on the engine, the car quickly picks up speed. Nausea churns in my gut. I want to vomit, but I can’t ruin the suede interior after she saved me from Autumn’s fate.

“It’s safe.” Her voice is louder, warm and comforting. “You can come up here now.”

I crawl to the passenger seat on shaky legs. Trembling harder than they have after any meet or race.

“If you tell me where you live, I’ll take you back to your parents.” Her jaw is tight, knuckles white from where she grips the steering wheel. “You need to tell them what happened to you.”

My stomach twists. There’s no way I can tell them what happened. How can I explain how I ended up here? Explain what I’ve been doing with my cross-country coach for months? He said everyone would hate me if they knew. I’ll get kicked out of school, and our family will be ostracized. My parents will never look at me the same if they know.

“Do you know who brought you here?” she asks.

“My coach.” The words are hoarse leaving my throat. I can’t bring myself to say his name.

The woman nods and clears her throat like she’s fighting back tears. “You need to tell your parents what he did.”

I can’t bring myself to argue. To ask any questions about who she is or where we just fled or who those men were. I can’t form the words. Can’t get my mouth to open or my tongue to move.

Maybe I should be screaming or sobbing, but numbness washes over me. I don’t know when I’ll ever feel anything again.

The tires rattle over a long bridge suspended above inky water just as they did when Brandon brought us here.

Somehow, the trip back home passes in a blink. A rush of air leaves my lungs when we pull up in front of the familiar property. A breath I’ve been holding since I escaped that house.

She really brought me home. I’m safe. I’m alive.

All I manage is a quiet “Thank you.”

The woman merely nods.

I open the door, and under the harsh overhead light, I can tell for the first time how beautiful she is. A delicate nose, soft lips, dark hair, and kind, glistening green eyes. “Are you going to be okay?”

She escaped them too. She must’ve gone through the same horrors. Maybe worse.

My rescuer blinks away the tears before they can slip out. “Tell your parents everything. So they can help you.”

She doesn’t drive away until I knock on the front door.

My feet ache, knees and legs tremble, arms leaden, but I’m here.

The door squeaks open. My father wipes the sleep from his eyes, brows pulling together when they land on me. On my disheveled hair. On my bloody dress. His confused, alarmed voice: “Juliet?”

Followed by my mother’s scream.

Trey’s smile is soft. One I’ve never seen from him before. One that makes my heart skip. Fierce pride radiates from his green eyes as he brings my hand to his lips. The brush of contact lights me on fire.

Despite everything he’s done to me, every opportunity we’ve taken to one-up each other and get revenge in our sick, twisted ways, I somehow feel safer with him than with anyone else. Safer than I’ve ever felt in my entire life. Like as long as I have him by my side...

“I’ll be okay,” I promise, before slipping my hand from his and opening the door.

“Be careful, Juliet.” His warning before the door shuts behind me settles deep in my bones. The way he says my name...it haunts me in the best way.

I clutch my flimsy jacket to me. The more skin I can have exposed, the better. The less he’ll be able to resist.

My heart pounds harder with every step in the darkness over the dirt trail. Beneath my Docs, the tufts of grass whisper. A ghostly finger trails down my spine when I step into the glow of the light casting from the window.

You’re okay. You’re okay now. I’m here. You’re so fucking brave.

I force oxygen in through my nose, filling my lungs until slowly breathing out. In, out. In, out. Trey is with me. He’s right behind me, watching my every move. Just as he has since we met.

You’re not going to let him stop you. He’s nothing—you’re everything.

An unfamiliar feeling swells in my chest, bringing an impossible smile to my lips. A mix of hope and safety and love. As insane as it is, that’s what this has to be. Love.

With Trey’s reassuring words echoing in my ears, I lift my knuckles and knock.

In the beats of silence that follow, I hold my breath.

Nothing. Nothing.

I knock again, still not breathing, lungs straining for oxygen until I worry I might pass out?—

The jangle of a lock turning and I suck in air.

The knob twists.

And then the door opens.

Silence falls between us when the creak of the door comes to an abrupt halt. His thick brows are furrowed, a demand on his lips to know who the hell is knocking at his cabin door in a vacant campground after dark until recognition dawns.

His dull blue eyes are just about all that remains unchanged. What once was the flat stomach of a runner is now distended over his sweats. A few new wrinkles etched into his forehead and around his mouth, bags beneath his eyes, and a hairline receding to display more of his forehead and temples. A freckle on his chin I don’t remember, and he’s somehow shorter, no longer the larger-than-life presence of my memories. And were his bare feet always so gnarly? Have I ever seen his feet before? Now I can’t remember.

In my memories, he’s tall and fit, constantly raking his hand through his full head of hair, and always smiling. A radiant grin that lit up his whole face whenever his gaze landed on me, whenever I slid into the passenger seat of his truck, whenever he pulled over onto the side of the road or took me to our spot, whenever he pulled me onto his lap and slid his hand under my skirt while insisting I was the one in control.

He’s not that man anymore. He never will be again. I’ll make sure of it.

This time, I don’t get that smile.

This time, I’m the one who gets to smile.

“Juliet?” he whispers. Like he’s seeing a ghost. “You...you changed your hair.”

I almost laugh. Other than the white dress, I’m unrecognizable from the girl I was when he knew me, especially when I’m wearing my piercings. “Yeah. I got some new ink too. Can I come in?”

He doesn’t stand aside to let me in. Instead, he scans the campground like he’s looking for the setup. Thank god it’s dark enough that he doesn’t spot Trey waiting in the car for his opportunity to join us. “What are you doing here? How did you even find me?”

“You said when I was an adult, we could be together. I thought you’d want me to find you.”

That’s what he promised me, over and over, when I whined about not being able to tell anyone about my first serious boyfriend. Not being able to go on dates or act like a real couple. When you graduate, when you’re eighteen, then we can be together. I promise. Now, he doesn’t say anything. Because that promise was a load of bullshit. He didn’t want me at eighteen. He didn’t want a graduate. He didn’t want an adult.

When he still doesn’t say anything, I add, “Please. Can we just talk? About everything? I have a lot to explain.”

I wait seven heart-stopping seconds before he finally nods and retreats to let me in.

My heart thunders with every step I take over the threshold and into the cabin that smells of wood and dust, the air damp and chilly when he shuts the door behind me.

I try my best to fight the smile that’s eager to crawl across my face. He knows me as the girl I was; he has no idea what kind of woman I’ve become. What I’m capable of now. He believes he’s still the one with the power here.

He has no idea.

“Coffee?” He points at a half-empty jug.

“Sure. Thanks.” Accepting puts him at ease, but I won’t drink or eat anything he gives me. I won’t take anything from him ever again.

In the other half of the room, a fireplace crackles with burning wood, the only source of heat.

“So where have you been for the past few years?”

“Here and there.” He forces a smile as he sets the lukewarm mug of coffee down in front of me. “Are you in college now?”

“Yeah. I’m studying psychology.”

“That’s good. You were always so smart, even as a kid.” The thought of him remembering me as the thirteen-year-old kid he met turns my stomach. “Are you still running?”

“Of course.” An easy lie. Running used to be my catharsis. When he stole that from me, I turned to inking and piercing my body. The pain numbed my racing thoughts, helped drive him out of my mind at least for a little while. Now, I run only when forced or when my boyfriend is chasing me.

Boyfriend . Trey would probably roll his eyes at the word, too casual for what he truly is to me.

“It makes me feel close to you again when I do.”

At that, Brandon’s eyes grow hard. He’s done playing nice. Dropping the act. “You realize it was your lies about me that separated us.”

I tilt my head, feigning confusion. “What did I lie about?”

“You told your parents that I was a...predator.” He spits out the word like that’s not exactly what he was. Is. “That I hurt you. Your parents threatened the school with legal action. As soon as I caught wind of it, I knew I’d go down for crimes I hadn’t committed. So I was forced to leave town and start over like a guilty man without a trial.”

Now my blood is boiling. One hand curls around the mug, the other curls into a fist on my thigh beneath the table, the lace fabric scraping along my skin.

After all this time, he still believes he’s the victim. That he truly did nothing wrong. He’s delusional, convincing himself of his own lies. “You sold me to those men. You sold me to be abused and killed . Me and Autumn.”

They never found her. How could they? I didn’t know where Brandon took us. I didn’t know any of the men who hurt us or the name of the woman who saved me. Brandon skipped town before they could question him further, disappearing and slipping under the radar. They couldn’t find any missing teenagers named Autumn. She could’ve been stolen from any part of the world. Maybe Autumn wasn’t her real name, but the name they gave her. I’ll never know.

Brandon grabs my hand. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.” His eyes are round, pleading. “No one was supposed to die.”

He’s lying. Every word out of his mouth since I met him has been a lie. The only language he speaks.

I slip out of his grasp before my knife stabs through his hand on the table, sinking through flesh and cartilage and into the wood.

His scream rattles the tiny cabin.

“Don’t touch me.” I stand as he tries to grab for the knife. But I catch his arm and wrench it back, back, back until there’s a satisfying pop .

Brandon screams again, his shoulder out of its socket.

“You listened to us scream for hours. You sent her to that room to die. Both of us.” I grab a poker used to stir the coals in the fireplace and stick it in the flames, returning to him when the tip is red-hot. “Now, it’s your turn to scream.”

Despite the dislocated shoulder and the sweat beading on his forehead, Brandon manages to rip the knife free from his hand.

Blood coats the blade as he jumps to his feet, whirls on me, and lunges.