Page 2

Chapter Two

Jolie

Drip, drip, drip.

“Go away, it’s Saturday,” I say, throwing my arm over my face.

Drip, drip, drip.

“Ugh,” I groan.

I must have passed out in the shower again. This happens frequently when I stay awake for days at a time, and all because handsy foster brothers liked to touch what they shouldn’t. I go to wipe the splash of water from my face, except my brain registers that the liquid is too thick to be water. My stomach lurches at the overwhelming smell of iron, my eyes flying open as the foggy memory of the café resurfaces.

“Fucking fuck,” I whisper to myself.

The room is pitch black. I try blinking a few times to get my eyes to adjust. Which is a waste of time, as the lights start to flicker on and off, giving me a view of my surroundings. I’m not the only person here, and the others seem to be waking up just as confused as I am. My instincts kick in, and I look around for exits, not finding any. Panic flares as I scan the room again.

One solid metal roller door is pulled shut—but it might be unlocked. There is a massive hole in the ceiling, which is no help.

Sweat gathers on my forehead, spreading chills over my body at the sight of three corpses hanging from the roof, a steady flow of blood dripping from each of their fingers before falling into a puddle on the concrete floor. Two older women must look up and see the bodies hanging, because a blood-curdling scream leaves one of them. I’m certain she also wets herself, based on my glimpse of a spreading stain on her pants. The other five people in the room are men; two look to be around my age, and all five are banging relentlessly on the metal door, one trying to find a way to open it. I guess it is locked after all.

Speakers come to life at a deafening level. Covering my ears, I look up, hoping to find the source of the noise.

I scream, the sound is so loud my ear drums threaten to explode, not that anyone can hear my voice over the music and the singer screaming the lyrics. I should try to run, even move, except I’m frozen to the spot, my body shutting down. The reality of what is happening has started to kick in.

The sound of metal against metal has most of the people in the room in a panic as their screams penetrate the air. While I would love to join them, moving isn’t happening as a freeze response takes over. I was only kidding about being killed by a serial killer. I’m only Eighteen! Surely my time isn’t up yet . Right now, I wish I hadn’t been so quick to believe it was Trace coming back for me.

The sound seems to be the door sliding up. A few of the bigger men run out and when nothing happens after they disappear through the door, everyone else follows. In my frozen state, large beads of sweat gather and roll down my forehead. Mentally chastising myself that I’m a badass and not the girl that sits around waiting to be killed, I try to pull myself together. Having been put through hell over the last few years, this situation does not take the cake as the winner of the most fucked-up shit I have had to endure.

I’m not sure at what point my fight-or-flight response kicks in, but when a rope falls to the floor, I gain back some of my body’s natural reactions. My head snaps up, and as soon as it does, I wish I was still frozen. The sight before me is as scary as it is intriguing. Five black figures are looking down through the hole in the roof. Faces concealed, they each wear a metallic skull mask with the illusion of different coloured flames dancing within the eye sockets. In a different place and time, I would be mesmerised. Now I’m hoping I don’t shit myself because I’m down to my last outfit.

One shadow is crouched down, their head kinked to the side, watching me, waiting to see what I plan to do. The green on their mask is both haunting and alluring.

The song starts over, but this time it’s been altered and every few words “run” is shouted overtop of the lyrics. Flight finally kicks in. I stand and take a step back. Hearing a whimper, I look down. A naked girl no older than me is cradling her frail body, shaking like a leaf.

“Shit,” I mutter, looking up to see the figures have dropped more ropes, getting ready to descend.

“Can you walk?” I ask, and she nods.

I remove the baggy shirt from my body, an old black sports bra now the only thing covering my chest. The poor girl pulls my shirt over her head. It doesn’t cover all that much, but it beats being naked. Holding out a hand to help her up, I hear a thud. Boots hit the concrete floor, and a shiver runs down my spine.

The girl screams, and my body wastes no time propelling me towards the door. I pull the girl behind me, not needing to look back to know they are now following us, laughing.

I fight the urge to glance over my shoulder. Whoever they are will need to catch me if they want to take me out.

“Run, run, as fast as you can!” a male voice shouts.

“I ain’t no fucking gingerbread man!” I shout back, slapping my free hand over my mouth. Brennan, my social worker, said one day my mouth will get me into serious trouble. Looks like he was right. I hope I make it out of here alive so I can hear him say I told you so.

We run into what looks to be bushland, and the trees and shrubs bite into my skin, tearing flesh off my arms as I bash through. The girl clutches tightly onto my hand, whimpering every so often. I can only imagine the pain she is feeling being barefoot and running through terrain like this.

Leaves crunch and twigs snap behind us, and I want to stop and face these people; but as much as I joke about death, surely something better has to come along for me before that happens.

“Twinkle, twinkle, little bitch, somebody’s gonna find your body in a ditch.”

Sobs pour from the girl; she is terrified. I intertwine my fingers with hers, offering a small amount of comfort. I wish I could offer her a simple “It will be okay ” but that isn’t who I am. If I’m being realistic, we’re both going to die before someone finds us. Even if these psychopaths leave us out here, dehydration or this damn humidity would more than likely kill us. Summer is over and yet it is still hotter than hell.

I pull us further into deep bushland, no longer on the rough path someone made by driving a car through at some point. If we have any chance of survival, I need to be able to hear if we are being followed.

My lungs burn, but I must push through it. The girl falls to her knees, almost taking me down with her, her sobs so loud I cover her mouth with my hand and shush her. I really don’t want to frighten her any more than she is, but her sniffling will get us killed.

“Do you want to die?” I ask, kneeling in front of her. She shakes her head no. “Then pull yourself together. We have to keep moving.”

I vaguely remember learning that the moonlight reflects the sunlight, so the bright side of the moon faces the sun and then something about the horns and drawing a line to the horizon to find which way is north. Hopefully, this random knowledge will get us to safety.

We start walking, the bush now silent. The darkness surrounds us, giving me a false sense of security. Besides the crunch of our footsteps, it’s eerily quiet. Maybe they gave up and stopped chasing us, or maybe they sit watching and waiting to pounce. Either way, I keep the girl moving.

“Did you hear that?” she whispers.

The engine of a car rumbles in the background, and we instinctively move towards it. Our only hope out of here is to find a road and follow it to the nearest town. We run, the sound of the vehicle giving us a burst of energy to push forward.

The girl, whose name I should have asked for at some point, falls to the ground when we reach the road. A car approaches, and I make a split-second decision. I race into the centre of the road and wave my hands in the air. The car slows to a stop, a shadow steps out, and my heart thuds against my ribs. This is the moment of truth: do we die, or will this person help?

“Jolie?” a familiar male voice calls out.

I shield my eyes from the headlights, letting them adjust.

“Brennan?” I ask, taking a step back as he gets closer. Right now, I trust no one, not even my social worker. What is he doing in the middle of the bush and in just the right place to find me? I don’t believe in coincidences. “Stay back,” I warn, trying to process what is happening. Should I trust him? “Fuck,” I hiss under my breath. What other choice do I have right now?

He stops walking. “What are you doing out here?”

“I could ask you the same question. Why are you in the middle of nowhere, Brennan?”

He takes a few steps closer, cautiously moving towards us. “I visit my gran every Friday night.”

Of course he does. Perfect bloody cardigan-wearing Brennan is the only twenty something who visits his gran on a Friday night.

“What happened to you? Are you okay?”

I look down at my hands—they’re covered in blood. Some dried, but most of the scratches and cuts on my hands are bleeding.

“I’m fine, but we need to get her to a hospital,” I say, pointing to the girl still lying on the edge of the road, now curled in a ball.

Brennan rushes to her side, picking her up and putting her in the back seat of his sedan. I jump in the passenger seat.

We drive for a few minutes before he speaks. “You need to tell me something, Jolie. I was supposed to pick you up tomorrow morning. I have a new placement for you, and I don’t know if I can explain to my boss how I found you cut up and bloody in the middle of nowhere.”

“If I tell you, will you not freak out?”

Brennan is nice, too nice. Being the only person in my shitty life to genuinely care about me, I decide to tell him the whole truth.

“It’s a bit late to ask me not to freak out, don’t you think?” He looks over at me with a slight smile on his face.

“I suppose you’re right. I was planning on running away.” His head snaps to glare at me, and the disappointment on his face fills me with shame. “But I found a card that said to go to Alison’s café.”

“And of course, you just had to go.” His words are laced with sarcasm.

“I thought it was Trace,” I whisper.

His whole body goes stiff, and the reaction to me mentioning my best friend is weird, but I compartmentalise that for another time.

Starting with being drugged at the café, I explain what happened, right through to stopping him on the side of the road. I watch as he processes everything and wait for the lecture about how irresponsible I was.

“Shit,” he grits out. “I should take you to the police, but they will think you were running away and then I won’t be able to send you to the placement I have found. It’s a good deal, this place. Jesus, Jolie, how does shit keep happening to you?”

I shrug. I wish I knew. Trouble manages to find me everywhere I go. Sometimes it’s because of how I look and sometimes it’s my mouth or even my temper.

“It’s a talent,” I declare. Maybe now he will believe me. I did try to warn him when we first met twelve months ago.

“I could get in a shitload of trouble for this, but I will take the girl to the hospital after I check you into a hotel. If you promise not to run, tomorrow I will take you to the new place... and we will forget this ever happened.”

“When did you get so cool?” I ask, and he smirks.

I always knew deep down Brennan had a wild side.

Brennan finds a small motel just off the highway and checks us in. I wait in the car with the girl, who fell asleep almost the second we started driving. When he returns and gives me the key, he promises to be back as quickly as he can.

I don’t know how long he is gone, but enough time passes for me to shower, wash my underwear, and hang them up to dry. As I have no clothes, I opt to lie in bed naked and wait for Brennan to return, then see if he has anything I can borrow. Slowly feeling warmer, the mindless TV offers a way to keep my thoughts off what happened tonight. I would never go to the cops. Where I come from, that isn’t an option. They wouldn’t believe me even if I did tell them the truth. I have a juvenile record as long as my arm, and chances are they would find a way to make it my fault and arrest me. Been there, done that, and not taking the risk.

I must doze off, but at some point, the smell of coffee invades my senses, making my mouth water and pulling me into a semi-conscious state.

“Morning, sunshine. You were out like a light when I got back.” Brennan’s voice startles me, once again reminding me of yesterday’s events.

Every muscle in my body seems to hurt today, and I sit up slowly, pulling the sheet with me. The room is as small as it was last night, but in the light of day with Brennan standing next to a small table in a pair of plaid brown shorts and a white shirt, the room seems a lot smaller.

“Yeah, well, being kidnapped and chased through the bush will do that to a girl.” I try to laugh off the seriousness of what happened, but Brennan’s brows furrow and his lips press tightly together, worry washing over him.

“We need to hit the road.”

“Problem. I have no clothes.” He looks over at me and takes in the sheet. “Yep, as naked as the day I was born.”

He rushes around the room in a half-panic that is sweet but amusing. Poor guy needs to get laid. Not by me, though. I have done some questionable things in my life and by things, I mean men. A girl has to eat and sleep, and a meal and warm bed sometimes comes with a price tag. But Brennan is the only person who has ever seemed to give a shit about me since Trace went away, and I don’t plan to ruin that like I do everything else in my life.

“Just throw me one of your plaid shirts.”

He complies and sends a red-and-black one my way that he pulls from a small overnight bag sitting by the door. The sleeves are long, and although the weather is hot, he can crank the air con in the car. He gives me privacy, telling me he will go check out while I get dressed. Thankfully, my underwear is dry enough I can put it on. I find my pants from last night still in the bathroom on the floor, covered in dirt and blood, but they will have to do.

Once I’m dressed, I assess myself in the small bathroom mirror. I’m slightly worse for wear, but after what I went through, it could be worse. Luckily the scratches on my face are superficial. A nice bruise has formed on my chin, and I have no recollection of how I got it. Brennan comes back in, looking me over. I can see the worry in his expression. I give him a smile that says: I may look like crap with my face scratched up, bruises, and a swollen lip, but I’m alive. He would have read my file; he knows I have endured worse.

“Ready?” He watches me carefully as he waits for a response.

I nod and follow him out to the car.

We drive for what feels like hours, stopping a few times for toilet breaks. I don’t know where we are going, but it isn’t anywhere close to the shitty-ass town I come from. The further we drive towards the coast, the bigger the houses seem to get.

A sign that reads “Welcome to Ellwood Pines” comes into view. Pushing my nose to the window, I watch as we drive past mansion after mansion. Everything is so green, so perfect. So not what I’m used to.

“Are you sure you’re in the right place?” I ask as Brennan pulls into a driveway, and my senses go into overdrive. This can’t be right; this place isn’t for a girl like me.

“Yes,” is all he says as we drive by yet another manicured shrub.

The house is lit up like a Christmas tree. People who leave all the lights on in a house have more money than sense, if you ask me.

“I can’t stay here,” I say after Brennan stops the car and unbuckles his seat belt.

He turns, offering me an exhausted expression, the lines on his face making him appear older than he is.

“Why not, Jolie? You deserve this. The Myers are great people, and you will have it good here. They value education and won’t smother you. I have known them for a long time.”

“As in how?” Eyeing him suspiciously, I sense it’s too good to be true. I’ve always had a hunch I’m his pet project.

“They’re my parents... Now hear me out. You’re eighteen and needed somewhere to finish high school as per the judges ruling, you will get your freedom here. My younger brother can be a pain in the ass, but you will be safe here. He is the same age as you and you will both be attending the same high school.”

“Did he repeat a year or something,” I snap. It sucks being the only senior to turn nineteen by the end of the year.

“Or something,” he says not elaborating and honestly, I don’t really care why.

I huff. Even if it is charity, it isn’t like I have anywhere else to go. “Fine. But I want your personal number for when all this blows up in your face and I can say I told you so.”

I follow his lead as he walks up the stairs to the front entrance of the house. Did I forget to mention that we parked beside a damn water fountain?

“Mum. Dad. We’re here.”

An older couple walk into the foyer. The man looks a lot like Brennan—tall, slim build, and dark eyes. Except Brennan loves his cardigans, and this man looks to be more of a suit man. The lady is so beautiful, I’m lost for words.

“Brennan, finally. I thought we would miss you. Our plane leaves in an hour.” She pulls him in for a hug. “And you must be Jolie. We have heard a lot about you.”

I arch a brow at Brennan.

“All good things, I hope.”

She laughs at my comment. Brennan smirks—he really is a good-looking man. Some lucky girl will scoop him up and never let him go. A guy like him isn’t in my future.

“Yes, dear. All amazing things.”

I try not to snort at her comment. There is no way Brennan had amazing things to say about me. Every time he’s had to come to my rescue, it wasn’t because I won the spelling bee and he was proud of me.

Brennan steps closer to his father. “It’s good to see you, old man.” They shake hands, not hug. Weird, but whatever.

“Jolie, these are my parents, Annabella, and Blake. They have a business trip and will be gone for about a week. I also have to go with them. I will show you your room and where everything is. My brother, Boston, knows you’re here. He should be back soon. I have asked him to show you around and get you settled in.”

It may seem weird to most to be dumped in a new home and the parents take off, but it wouldn’t be the first time for me. Besides, it isn’t like this place is a dump. For starters, the foyer is huge, the white tiles so clean I could eat off them.

His parents excuse themselves and Brennan makes me follow him up a set of stairs to our left. I try to take it all in, but everything is happening so fast. We come to a stop in front of a door.

“Okay, this is your room,” he says, flicking on the lights. I can’t help the shock that takes over my face. This room is bigger than most houses I have lived in. “I’m sorry I have to leave, but I have a new job with my father.”

my lips. He can’t let me get someone new. “You can’t leave.”

“Jolie, you’re staying with my family. I had no choice, and I accepted the job offer before your placement here anyway. My father offered me a deal I couldn’t refuse.”

How can I argue with that? I would choose money too.

“Arrangements have been made for you to start school, and a uniform is in your closet. I’ve set up a phone, and it has all the numbers you will need already saved in your contacts. Our housekeeper, Petra, will be here every day; she cooks all the meals and will collect all your washing. I didn’t have time to organise any clothes for you, so my father has left you a credit card to get anything else you may need. Twenty grand is the limit?—”

I cut him off with a hand gesture. Twenty grand?! My brain scrambles to piece this all together.

“Brennan, slow down a second, twenty grand? I could go to the second-hand store and fifty bucks would be enough.”

He shakes his head.

“Jolie, I knew you would hate accepting this, and I even asked if they could hire someone to buy things for you. My mother insisted you should pick out your own new things so that the style is you. I left a list of clothing stores you will need to visit. Living with the Myers is about how others perceive you. Other than that, buy what you feel comfortable in. Oh, and my spare car is in the garage for you to use.” He hands me a set of keys.

My emotions overcome me, and tears run down my cheeks. I normally don’t cry, but this is some Cinderella shit right here and I’m well aware my life isn’t a fairytale. There is always a catch; I just have to figure out what it is.

“Sorry.” Sniffling, I wipe my tears away. “I’m so overwhelmed after everything that has happened, and now this. I don’t know what to say or do.” He puts an arm around my shoulder and pulls me into a side hug. It may be mildly inappropriate, but my emotions got the better of me. “Thank you for all this, Brennan. It means a lot. I’ll try not to fuck it up.”

He laughs as he releases me.

“Trust me, you can’t mess this one up. Wait until you meet my brother, Boston. Just promise to be your usual self around him. Call me if he’s a complete ass. He should be okay as long as you stay out of his room.”

“Okay.” Nice subtle way to throw in a dig at my attitude. “So, I guess I will see you when you get back.”

“You will. I’m sorry about the bad timing of the trip. But Petra was like a second mother to me growing up. She will look after you.”

I thank him again before he leaves. I can’t believe this is happening to me. Some things are too good to be true and I feel like this might just be one of those times.

I spend time looking over my room, which is massive. A huge four-poster bed sits against the back wall, each pole and the top covered in fairy lights, and a fluffy neutral-toned blanket. A desk sits on the other side of the room, and each side of it has shelving. Someone has taken the liberty of adding some basic ornaments and empty picture frames. A white shag pile rug has been placed in the centre of the room.

Above the desk are some small, framed quotes. “ Dream Big” and “Live and Laugh”. My eyes start to water, and I feel like an idiot. This is the nicest room I have ever had, even before I was in care. Trace could never afford anything flashy, but we had each other. I make my way to the bed and pick up the phone that was left for me, utterly overwhelmed by the last twenty-four hours.

Once I finish messing around with my new phone, I slide it onto the bedside table. Being given it is honestly the highlight of my day. I have always been the only teenage girl who didn’t have one. It wasn’t deemed a necessity, so I went without.

I decide to snoop around. Surely, I can find the brother’s room and steal a shirt.

I’m surprised to find that his room is also on this floor, along with a few other empty ones. I push the door open; it looks like mine, plush cream carpet, a massive bed, an enormous flat screen TV mounted on the wall, and a walk-in closet.

I choke on my spit when I slide the door open. It looks like a damn streetwear store—I have only been in one once. I didn’t buy anything, but a girl could dream. Everything is so neat. He has a wall of shoes, and I run my fingers over a pair of rare Air Jordan’s.

After going over every inch of the closet, I pick a shirt and a pair of sweats with a drawstring, then make myself leave. I could spend hours just touching everything, but I really don’t want to be caught in here, especially given Brennan’s warning.