Page 25 of Wandering Wild
“What the hell is going on?” I breathe the words, unable to believe what I’m looking at. Who I’m looking at.
I can feel Charlie’s stunned shock like it’s my own—because it is my own—but she pulls herself together before I do and tugs me toward the center of the foyer. Ember and the man who I assume is Charlie’s stepdad stick to our sides like glue, but I barely notice them, too distracted by the small group in front of us.
Hawke and Bentley—I can’t wrap my head around them being here. They’re meant to be awaiting rescue at the bottom of a mountain, not standing before us without crutches or a cast or anything else to show that one of them was ever hurt.
A sinking feeling hits me and I glance suspiciously at my agent, but there’s nothing in Gabe’s expression to indicate whether or not my growing fears are valid, so I return my focus to the other three, waiting on an explanation.
“Before we answer your questions,” Scarlett starts, “do either of you require any urgent medical attention? You had a number of close calls that we didn’t anticipate, so let us know if you need to get checked over now, or if you can wait until after we talk.”
I become as still as a statue at her words, since they make me recall what Ember cried to Charlie upon our arrival: You nearly died! And Zander did die!
Dread pools in me as a premonition takes root, and I look to the concierge desk again, my eyes on the television screen that’s no longer showing us standing here, but something else entirely.
I hear Charlie’s voice as if from far away, asking how Scarlett knows about our close calls. I reach for her numbly, turning her toward the television for the second time so she can see the answer for herself.
A news report is on, the journalist sitting in front of a screen that begins to play a highlight reel of footage taken on the early days of our trip, from us jumping out of the helicopter to rappelling down the cliff, navigating the first slot canyon and its crawl space, the Tyrolean traverse across the ravine, the rock climbing up the mountain, and flashes of everything between.
But it doesn’t end there.
Because it then shows the mudslide.
And us landing in the pool at the base of the mountain.
I have only one thought as I watch us scrambling through the muddy shallows: Bentley lost his camera in the fall, so this footage shouldn’t exist.
Nor should any of the footage that comes next:
Charlie and me venturing forth on our own.
Our waterfall plummet into the raging river.
Her giving me CPR and saving my life.
Us cuddling under the stars.
The underwater tunnel and her near-drowning.
Our mad dash across the collapsing suspension bridge.
Charlie saving my life—again—and me lying on top of her, our lips moving ever closer.
The footage fades out there, leaving the reporter grinning and saying something through the muted screen, but I don’t need to hear their words to understand what happened.
We’ve been played.
My eyes spear toward Scarlett, Hawke, and Bentley, and I instantly see the familiar silver box in Scarlett’s hand—a box that is open, and empty .
The nano drones.
They were never deactivated.
Everything we did, every word we said...
It was all caught on camera, with the whole world watching—and watching live , if the first footage I saw of us here in the foyer is any indication.
Charlie is standing so close to me that I’m unsure which of us is shaking more. I feel violated, knowing my unfiltered words were heard by millions. Everything I shared about the deaths of my birth parents, about Summer, about Maddox, about— God , the drugging and DUI... I’m going to be sick. Charlie, too, revealed things I know she never would have wanted others to hear, especially her grief and her revelations about her life and future. We shared the deepest parts of ourselves, never once imagining that there might be an audience watching as we did so.
I have to swallow back bile as I stare incredulously at Hawke, Bentley, and Scarlett, ignoring Scarlett’s question about our health to instead say, through clenched teeth, “Someone had better start talking. Right now.”
“It was my idea,” Gabe speaks up. “Mine, and Valentina’s.”
My stomach drops, my earlier fears proving true, even if I still don’t understand.
“Who the hell is Valentina?” Charlie’s voice is hoarse, telling me that she, too, has figured out that we’ve been deceived.
“Valentina Martínez, director of Titan’s War , and close friends with Rykon here,” Gabe says, motioning to Hawke. “She’s the one who managed to get him and Hawke’s Wild World on board to help improve Zander’s public image. But early approval projections showed it would take more than just a single episode to get the results we needed in the time we had, so we came up with the idea to stream your whole trip—or your waking hours, at least—in order to generate more interest from the wider public. Reality television, uncut.”
He misreads our horrified faces and quickly goes on, “Don’t worry, we also provided a recap at the end of each day for viewers who only wanted to watch the more dramatic moments, but the unedited streaming option was the real audience-grabber. You should have seen the reaction once people realized they’d get to have unrestricted, real-time access to your adventure, right from their living rooms.”
“Real-time,” Charlie repeats weakly. “As in...?”
Scarlett jumps in to confirm what I’ve already realized, “Since the moment you left on Tuesday, up until you set foot in this foyer a few minutes ago, everything you’ve said and done has been streaming live.” She waves the box in her hand, grimacing slightly as she adds, “I may have told a tiny fib about the nano drones—they weren’t prototypes, and they were fully waterproof. They stayed with you every step of the way, even in the underwater tunnel. I’m actually surprised you didn’t notice them there, given how small the space was. But I suppose you had other things on your minds.”
Other things—like not drowning .
I can’t handle what I’m hearing, my body trembling from disbelief and betrayal.
“In our defense,” Gabe says, noting my expression, “it’s your own fault things got so carried away.” He indicates between me and Charlie. “Viewers clued in quickly about the trip being a publicity stunt, but they were intrigued enough to keep watching because of how strained your early exchanges were. It was obvious Charlie was repressing some pretty strong negativity toward you, Zander, which made everyone hungry to know more. Even when you weren’t getting along, your chemistry was off the charts, which led to a social media outcry for more ‘Zarlie’—as they so aptly named you. So we decided to give them what they wanted, orchestrating a situation where you would be forced together, alone.”
Hawke steps forward then, raising his hands in a placating gesture. “It wasn’t meant to go the way it did,” he admits. “The viewers may have been on board with it, but I still had a duty of care to you both—not to mention, my own brand to protect. Once Ben and I were told about the change in plans, I did what I could to make sure you were equipped to deal with the rest of the obstacles on your own, using the two days we had together to give you similar tasks to tackle. After you had some experience under your belts, I was going to fake an injury—the public voted for a broken ankle—and Ben would stay with me while you two finished the rest of the trip alone. But we didn’t anticipate the mudslide and losing our gear, or all the rain that made the final obstacles much more hazardous than they should have been. If we’d known...”
He shakes his head in apology, but all I can think about is what he said after we landed in the mud pool at the base of the mountain, his face thoughtful as he murmured, That wasn’t supposed to happen . His comment had seemed odd at the time, since of course it shouldn’t have happened. But now I understand—the mudslide wasn’t part of the plan, but he capitalized on it to lessen any suspicion Charlie and I might have had about him and Bentley remaining behind, leaving us alone without any cameras.
Or so we thought.
“This is—This is—” Charlie splutters, unable to finish. Finally, she manages to rasp out, “What you did is completely unethical. Never mind how dangerous it was for us—which it was —but legally speaking, you had no right to?—”
“We did, actually,” Scarlett interrupts, pulling her tablet from her vest and swiping at the screen. “You both signed consent forms agreeing to be livestreamed.”
“We absolutely did not,” I grind out. “I read everything I signed, and?—”
I stop, realizing that’s not true. I read all the liability waivers I filled in before arriving, but I didn’t read the unending document on Scarlett’s tablet that Charlie and I had to sign on Tuesday morning—the same document Scarlett is now turning around to show us, revealing proof of our own idiocy. I should have trusted my gut and read the damned thing, and the only reason I didn’t was because Gabe told me it was fine.
I’ve already read it all and made the necessary amendments , he said that morning.
Necessary amendments—like us agreeing to be abandoned in a survival situation with hidden cameras streaming our every move.
I glare daggers at my agent, but he only looks back at me calmly, making me realize that deep down, I’m not surprised by his ruthlessness. As much as it pains me to admit it, he was doing what I pay him for, and acting in what he thought were my best interests. I needed to drop my guard and show myself as human to the world, so he created a situation in which that might happen.
He’s right—in a roundabout, messed-up way, I have only myself to blame.
But Charlie...
She’s a casualty in all of this.
And when I turn toward her, seeing her pale, wide-eyed face, I can’t think of a single way to express how sorry I am to have ever dragged her into this nightmare.
She, however, isn’t looking at me—she’s looking at her stepdad.
His remorse is visible as he answers her unspoken question, “I thought you knew it was being livestreamed. Ember said it was a competition, so I figured that was public knowledge. And the terms were sound—there were no red flags in the language or I never would have signed it.”
I remember now that he had to co-sign as her guardian, since she’s underage. He was her Gabe, offering the assurance she needed to place her own signature on the document.
Her eyes close slowly before reopening again, and I feel as if I’m staring into a mirror when I see the storm of emotion in them. But then a steely look comes over her, and she pins a glare on Hawke. “We could have died. Not once, not twice, but numerous times. How can you justify?—”
“We can’t,” he says simply, holding her gaze. “I knew the moment you fell from the waterfall that we’d made a mistake, and I didn’t breathe at all as I watched you resuscitate Zander. But by then...”
“By then, the world was invested,” Gabe jumps in.
“And despite Rykon’s name being in the title of the show,” Scarlett says, “there’s an entire board of executives who call the shots. The streaming numbers were so astronomical that they told us to wait and see how it continued playing out.”
“We wanted to come and get you,” Bentley says, his first words since we arrived. “And we would have, regardless of our orders, if not for the rain starting back up. It’s a miracle Scarlett was able to get Rykon and me out during a gap in the weather, but when more rain came, we had to retreat again to avoid the rising floodwaters, so our next chance to reach you wasn’t until partway through today. And by then, you’d already entered the slot canyon.”
“It was meant to be dry,” Hawke states, repeating what he told us when we last saw him. “Even with the extra rain, we truly didn’t anticipate you having any problems, so we decided to hold off and keep watching from afar. By the time we realized you’d have to swim through the tunnel, it was too late for us to intervene.”
“And then came the suspension bridge, which should have been the easiest obstacle of them all, since our safety crew went ahead to secure it,” Bentley says. He winces and adds, “Though, uh, you saw for yourselves that the rain caused yet more unanticipated complications there.”
“I’d hardly call the entire bridge decaying beneath us a ‘complication,’” Charlie grits out. “What would you have done if any of those tasks ended a different way? If Zander hadn’t responded to my CPR? If I’d drowned in the tunnel? If we’d both fallen down the gorge? Did you have a backup plan for us dying on live television?”
Hawke places a hand on her shoulder, his dark features serious. “I’m sorry, Charlie. You have every right to be upset.” His gaze flicks to me. “You both do. But if it’s any consolation, what you did—what you overcame and survived—was astounding. I’m so proud of you. And you should be proud of yourselves. This trip is something you’ll never forget, and unless I’m mistaken, it’s already left its mark on you both, in the best possible way.” He looks between us and asks, quietly, “Can you honestly tell me you regret it? Any of it?”
I stare down at the floor, unwilling to concede his point. But the truth is, he’s right. While I still feel equal parts manipulated and violated, I can’t regret the last four days, because they made me realize how capable I am. And more, they brought Charlie into my life.
When neither of us responds, Hawke releases Charlie with a small, knowing smile, then says, “Our medic wants to examine you both, and I’m sure you’re eager for hot showers, so take an hour to freshen up and then we’ll meet for dinner in the hotel restaurant. We can answer any other questions you have while we enjoy our last night together. Sound like a plan?”
My eyes move to Charlie at the reminder that we’ll all be leaving tomorrow, but she doesn’t look my way, and I realize she hasn’t since we learned the truth about the last four days. I wish I could talk to her privately and find out how she’s feeling, whether she wants to rage at the world—or at me —for having her words and actions aired live without her consent. But she only nods her agreement to Hawke and allows her stepfather and Ember to pull her away, not glancing back at me once.
I’m still staring after her when Gabe clears his throat and says, “Shall we?”
He’s the last person I want to be around, but I give a stiff jerk of my head and tell Hawke, Bentley, and Scarlett that I’ll see them soon, before I follow Gabe toward the elevator. As we walk, I notice crowds of people still pressed up against the front doors and windows of the hotel, all trying to get a glimpse of us now that the cameras are off. I wonder what they would think if they heard the conversation we just had, but then a new fear hits me and I ask, “Are the drones gone?”
Gabe is quick to reassure me. “Yes. But if you’re worried, give me your watch. It has the GPS and the microphone, so without it, they’re useless.”
I immediately unfasten the band and hand it over, feeling an odd sense of loss as I remember how the compass kept Charlie and me on track, and how the light gave us visibility in the tunnel.
“You can keep it if you want,” Gabe says, noting my hesitation. “I only assumed?—”
“No,” I cut him off. “You take it.” As much as the memories mean to me, I’ll feel better knowing there’s no chance I’m being recorded from here on out.
We don’t speak again as we enter the elevator and ride it up to our floor. The silence is strained, with me still stinging over everything he arranged behind my back, even if I know it was technically for my benefit.
It’s as we’re walking along the carpeted hallway toward our rooms that he finally says, “Val called earlier today. I know it’ll take some time for you to forgive us both for our roles in all of this, but if it helps, what we did worked.”
I’m distracted by a mirror we’re walking past that shows my silver hair standing on end and dirt smeared across my face, my hiking clothes torn and battered, and every part of me looking worse for wear. Because of that, it takes a second for Gabe’s words to process, but when they do, my neck whips toward him and I breathe, “What did you just say?”
Gabe grins wider than I’ve ever seen. “The producers have agreed to let you stay on as Titan. The decision was unanimous.” He claps me on the shoulder, fully beaming now. “Congratulations, Zan. You did it.”
An incredulous laugh leaves me, throaty and full of feeling, and my knees wobble from the weight of what this means. The studio isn’t terminating my contract. I get to play Titan Wolfe, the role of a lifetime. I can’t believe it. I’m desperate to tell someone, wishing I knew Charlie’s room number so I could go find her, especially since she helped bring this about. I’m not sure if I can wait a whole hour to see her again, but at least my cell will be back in my hands once I enter my suite, and I’ll be able to call my parents and Summer to give them the good news. And Maddox—well, he won’t pick up, but I’ll still leave him a message, since the best friend I know and love will want to hear about this, even if it’s over voicemail.
My euphoria fades as I realize I’ll also need to warn him about everything I shared when I believed the cameras were off. He might already know, but if he doesn’t...
He wasn’t talking to me before. Now he may never do so again.
The thought makes my stomach churn, but I force my worries about Maddox aside when Gabe and I reach my door, because he turns to me, his face suddenly grave.
“I need you to know that I never would have agreed to Hawke leaving you alone if I’d thought for one second that it would lead to the dangers it did,” Gabe says, his dark eyes solemn. “I’m aware that I’m considered a shark in this industry, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you like a son, and seeing you on the bank of the river, not breathing...” His big body shudders, before he goes on, quieter, “I wish you’d told me about the DUI. I understand why you didn’t, but I still wish you had. Promise me that if anything like that ever happens again, you won’t keep it from me. We’re a team, kid. You have to tell me these things so I can have your back. Understood?”
I shuffle my feet, my residual anger vanishing in the face of his concern. This is why he’s been my agent for the last six years—because despite his merciless business decisions, he cares for me deeply. And I care for him, which is why I say, “You still have a lot of groveling ahead, but for my part, I’ll try to be more honest in the future.” I can’t help adding, “I also want it on record that I’m not doing any more reality television. Not even a cooking show. I’m drawing a line.”
Gabe chuckles, his solemnity gone. “Noted.” Then an unexpected spark enters his eyes. “I have one last surprise for you.”
I groan. “I’ve already had too many of those today. Can we not?—”
“You’re going to like this one.” He opens the door to my suite. “Or rather, these two.” My brow furrows, but before I can ask what he’s talking about, he finishes, “See you all in an hour.”
Then he’s pushing me through the door and closing it behind me without an explanation.
But I don’t need one.
Because the next thing I know, Summer is tackling me, her blond hair flying as she leaps into my arms, her jade-green eyes full of tears as she cries, “Don’t you ever do anything as stupid as this trip again, you idiot!”
The wind is knocked out of me from the force of her attack, but even if it wasn’t, I’d still have trouble breathing at the sight of the other person standing in my hotel room.
Because Maddox is here, leaning against the wooden post of my bed frame, his copper-colored hair a familiar tousled mess, his caramel eyes locked on mine.
“Thank God for Charlie!” Summer continues shrieking into my ear. “I take back everything I said about you falling for a fan—she’s the best , and she literally saved your life. She’s also so out of your league, but luckily for you—” She trails off when she realizes I’m frozen against her, and slowly pulls away, her eyes darting between me and Maddox. “I’ll, uh, give you two a moment.”
And then she ducks into the bathroom, leaving me alone with my best friend for the first time in three months.
I have no idea what to do. No idea what to say. My heart races wildly as I stare at him, recalling everything I shared with Charlie about the night of my DUI—my truth, but also his truth. His mental health struggles, his suicide attempt... I revealed his most painful secrets to the world, betraying his trust to an audience of millions. It doesn’t matter that I did it unknowingly. The footage aired live, the damage instant—and irreversible.
I need to apologize, to beg his forgiveness for exposing his private life so publicly, but my lungs have seized, stealing my breath, and all I can manage is to wheeze out a lame, “Hey.”
For a long, agonizing minute, he just looks at me. But then tears fill his eyes and a shuddering breath leaves him, and suddenly, he’s marching across the room and yanking me into a rib-cracking embrace.
“God, I’m so sorry, Zan,” he rasps out, his normally smooth voice rough with emotion. “For all of it—for everything. That night, and all the weeks since then. I can’t—I don’t—” He shudders again, this time against me.
I’m a statue in his arms, afraid to move in case I wake up and discover this is a dream.
Maddox’s voice remains hoarse as he continues, “I should have returned your calls, but I was so ashamed. You were right when you told Charlie that I hated myself for putting you in that position after what happened to your parents, but it was more than that. I was embarrassed by what I nearly did that night, by you knowing , and I—I was worried you would think me weak or—or—hell, I don’t even know. I was so lost in my own head that I couldn’t see beyond the darkness gripping me. But I should have let you in. I shouldn’t have pushed you away. I should have—I should have?—”
He stops speaking only to pull me tighter against him. My bruised chest is screaming but I embrace him just as fiercely, tears filling my own eyes at the realization that my best friend flew halfway across the world to see me, that he’s not mad at me, that he doesn’t hate me for what happened—any of it.
But even realizing all that, I still need to make sure he knows how sorry I am.
“What I said, everything I revealed—” I begin, but he doesn’t let me finish.
“Don’t,” Maddox says, pulling away and swiping at his cheeks, his serious eyes catching mine. “Firstly, you didn’t know you were being filmed. And secondly, I’m not hiding anymore. I should have spoken up and gotten help sooner. If my story can make one person do that, or just make them feel less alone, then I’m glad the world knows. I want them to know.”
Relief slams into me, eclipsed only by my pride in him. But then it hits me anew that he’s standing before me, after three long months of radio silence, and I croak out, “I can’t believe you’re really here.”
His face softens with understanding. “As soon as I got your message about doing this trip, I booked a flight. I may have been icing you out, but I still knew how hard this would be after everything with your parents, and I couldn’t not be here for you.”
Hearing that, fresh tears fill my eyes. But he’s not done.
“I was halfway over the Pacific when the show started streaming, so I was already on the ground when it all went to hell. Summer, too, since she decided to cut her Maldives trip short to meet me here, saying it’d be fun to surprise you. She arrived right before you and Charlie fell from the waterfall.” Maddox closes his eyes, as if that memory haunts him, but then rallies and continues, “We tried to shake some sense into Hawke’s team, and I nearly came to blows with Gabe, but they wouldn’t budge about bringing you back in. I don’t think Sum or I have slept since you and Charlie had to go off on your own. That was nail-biting television, man.”
“Apparently that was the point,” I say, recalling everything Hawke, Bentley, Scarlett, and Gabe told us. “And while I hate the way we were manipulated, it paid off. I’ve officially been given the green light for Titan.”
The bathroom door bursts open and Summer flies through it, her screaming words proving she could hear everything we said through the thin walls. “YOU GOT TITAN?”
She leaps into my arms again, pulling Maddox in for a three-way jumping hug.
“I knew it!” she cries. “Charlie totally saved your ass in more ways than one! I love that girl!”
But just as quickly, her excitement fades and she steps back, only to punch me in the arm.
“Ow!” I yelp, rubbing my newest bruise. “What was that for?”
“You were freaking roofied at my birthday and you didn’t tell me.” Her glare could slice metal. “I’m not some fainting damsel who you need to protect, Zander. I love that you want to, but please, stop .” She shoots her narrowed gaze between Maddox and me. “And for the love of everything, both of you need to stop hiding your struggles from each other. There’s no shame in having feelings—ever. The good, the bad, and the ugly. That’s what friendship is for: warts and all. If either of you forget that again and make me play go-between for so much as a minute , let alone three months, I’ll kick your asses and make it my life’s mission to post embarrassing photos of you across social media.” She pauses, wrinkling her nose. “Okay, maybe that last part is going too far, but I’ll think of something equally terrible without the public visibility element. Consider yourselves warned.”
My lips are twitching by the time she finishes. “Are you done?”
“For now.” She tosses her golden locks over her shoulder. “As long as you two are good again?”
I look to Maddox, wanting him to answer. Needing him to answer. He doesn’t make me wait, only says, his eyes shining with reassurance, “We’re good.”
“It’s about time,” Summer mutters. But then she links her arm through mine and starts leading me across the room, saying, “FYI, we wanted to meet you in the foyer with the others, but I was drawing too much attention from the crowd outside, and Maddox is a big baby who was scared to see you without me holding his hand.”
Maddox rolls his eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips that makes me feel like I’m floating on air. We still have a long way to go to catch up on everything we missed in the last three months—and all the secrets from before that—but seeing him here, hearing he dropped everything to come meet me, I know we’re going to be all right.
“So all that’s to say,” Summer goes on, “before Gabe banished us to your room, he told us about dinner. And I mean this in the kindest possible way, but you’re filthy, Zan. So let’s pause this little reunion-slash-bonding sesh while you take fifteen showers between now and when we’re due down at the restaurant.”
“Hawke’s medic is coming to check you over as well,” Maddox reminds me. “Maybe make it fourteen showers so you don’t keep the doc waiting.”
As eager as I am to rid myself of my grimy hiking clothes and scrub my skin raw, I hesitate when Summer releases me at the bathroom door.
Maddox reads me like a book, his voice low and steady as he promises, “We’re not going anywhere, Zan. We’ll be right out here, probably arguing over who gets the chocolate mint sitting on your pillow.”
I arch an eyebrow. “It’s my pillow. Shouldn’t I?—”
“Dibs!” Summer declares, shoving me into the bathroom and slamming the door behind me.
I can’t keep the smile off my face as I listen to their muffled bickering over the minuscule chocolate, my heart lighter than it’s been in months now that I have my best friend back. But my elation fades when my thoughts turn to Charlie, wondering what she’s doing and whether she just had her own difficult conversations with her stepdad and Ember. I wish I knew how she’s processing everything that’s happened since we returned, my insides knotting as I remember how she didn’t look at me once after we arrived in the foyer. Dread claws at me, but I tell myself there’s no point worrying before I have a chance to speak with her. Instead, I clear my mind as I undress and step under the blissfully hot spray, sighing in contentment as I relax for the first time in days.
That contentment doesn’t last, however, because after the medic clears me with a warning to be careful until my bruising heals, Gabe knocks on my door to escort us down to the restaurant, where Charlie, Ember, Jerry, Hawke, Bentley, and Scarlett are waiting in a cordoned-off private area—and in an instant, my dread returns, stronger than ever.
Because Charlie still isn’t looking at me.
In fact, she seems determined to avoid my gaze entirely.
Like me, she’s cleaned up since I last saw her, now wearing a white dress paired with a purple cardigan, while I’ve donned dark wash jeans and a blue sweater. But when I try to tell her how nice she looks, or say how good it feels to be clean and ask whether she’s as relieved as I am, all I get is a tight smile as she looks past my shoulder and nods in agreement.
Unease gnaws at me, making it difficult to concentrate through dinner. I’m vaguely aware that the conversation is strained and the mood is heavy, at least until the charismatic trio of Ember, Summer, and Maddox work their magic to bring about quick smiles and quicker laughter. They clearly bonded while awaiting news of our potential demise, and it warms my heart to see them getting along so well, even if I’m still worried about why Charlie has closed herself off to me.
I barely notice when dinner ends and Hawke, Bentley, and Scarlett all say their goodbyes, claiming they have an early-morning flight to their next filming location and this is the last we’ll see of them. But I do manage to snap back to myself when Hawke pulls Charlie and me aside to tell us again how proud he is of the way we handled ourselves, before saying we’re welcome to join him on another adventure any time we want.
“Or you can visit one of my survival camps,” he offers. “The one in Ecuador is my favorite. Cougars, jaguars, anacondas, piranhas—the Amazon really delivers. Consider this a standing invitation.”
At the identical looks of horror on our faces, he bursts out laughing, then draws us in for quick hugs before leaving with Bentley and Scarlett. Soon after, Gabe and Jerry retreat to their rooms as well.
It’s Maddox who drags the rest of us back to my suite, his arm slung around Charlie’s shoulders to make sure she doesn’t escape—likely because he can see, just as I can, that she wants to. I’m desperate to talk to her alone, but I exercise patience as Summer, Maddox, and Ember share about the last few days from their perspectives, and then our conversation morphs into a casual, easy-going hangout, as if we’re old friends. It’s surreal, purely because it isn’t . Ignoring the tension surrounding Charlie and me, the dynamic between the five of us is almost unnaturally cohesive, like we’ve known each other for years rather than days—or in some cases, hours.
Despite how enjoyable it is, and how much I’m beginning to relax again even with Charlie’s walls raised sky high, all of that shatters when I step into the bathroom to relieve myself and then return to the suite. Because while Maddox, Summer, and Ember are still chatting merrily among themselves?—
Charlie is gone.