Page 102 of Fragmented Illusions

My—myboysneed me.

“That’s a good idea, pretty girl,” Spencer almost laughs, “but we can’t.” My confusion must prompt him to keep going because he explains to me, “We just killed four people, baby. On camera. Without our masks.” Each sentence digs the knife of fear deeper into my stomach, twisting and turning until I’m nothing but a bloody mess.

“Wh-what does that mean? For you—both? For-for us?” I stumble over my words, true fear soaking into me deep, consuming me. Wrecking me.

“We need to get as far away from CPH as we can. Then we decide what to do from there,” Solomon states matter-of-factly.

I sit back in my seat, absorbing their words. This is not good. Not for them.

I’m… worried. About what this means for us.

“How far away are we now?” I ask.

“About five hours away, heading west. Soon we should be able to stop for the night.”

I nod and close my eyes, leaning my head back against the seat. My body still aches heavily from the medication working its way out of my system. I was stupid for ever letting myself take them.

If I would have kept fighting, I wouldn’t have been so useless when they came to rescue me. I could have helped and then, maybe, Spencer wouldn’t be injured.

“Quit blaming yourself, pretty girl.” Solomon’s rough voice resounds through the small car. “You did nothing wrong.”

“I did,” I admit. The words taste of acid on my tongue, but that does not make them any less truthful. “I… I let them put me back in that place where I was ashamed of myself. OfwhatI am.WhoI am. One day back and I fell back into the illusion my parents’ forced me into my entire life.”

“That’s not who you are, Fallon.” This time Spencer speaks. “There is nothing wrong with you. And as for “falling back into the illusion;” there is no illusion, pretty girl. Your parents tried to force you into someone you were never meant to be.”

“Like recognizes like. Pain recognizes pain.” Solomon’s grip tightens around the steering wheel. Papa Roach’s “Forever” begins, shattering the tension of Solomon’s words.

Words that settle deep. That resonates with me.

Suddenly, “One more hour,” cuts through the lyrics and I glance up just in time to see a green road sign. I can’t make out what it says with the speed we are driving other than some town is sixty miles away.

“Why don’t you both get some sleep? I will wake you when we get there.” I glance over at Spencer. He nods and leans back against the door, letting his head fall back and rest against the slightly fogged-over window.

He cradles his hand to his chest, showcasing his heavy breathing. I find myself watching him as I settle back in the seat. I allow my eyes to roam over every inch of his face—ofbothof their faces.

I still cannot believe I have seen their true faces—not the masked ones that have muddled every dream. Every nightmare.

This is them.

My eyes flutter closed, contentment fulfilling me for the time being.

I’m free of CPH. Of my parents. Of myself and what I thought I had to be.

I’m free of the fragmented illusions.

We’re in it, together.

Always together.

Chapter Twenty-One

Solomon

I spin around again, wearing a path into the musty, off-blue carpet of the rundown motel room we’re holed up in.

It’s been four fucking hours. Four hours since I’ve seen Spencer, or even heard from him. It has been too long.

Something’s wrong. He must have been noticed and they’ve taken him.