Daisy smiles. “Aquamarine would actually look really pretty. We can go to the paint store in a few—” She cuts herself off as her husky bounces into the room. “Hello there, Coconut.” She squats down and scratches the dog’s soft white fur.
A few months ago, around Daisy’s 20th birthday, Ryke brought home the husky to help with her PTSD. Coconut is a certified service dog and also the cutest fluffy thing in this house.
“So are there house rules?” I wonder, pulling out a stack of hangers from the box. “It’s just…I’ve never lived with three couples and two babies before. So I don’t know how this works.” Admitting my innocence causes my breath to shallow. I probably sound like a fool. Quickly, I look away before I can meet Daisy’s gaze. If I can’t see it, it won’t be immortalized in my memory.
“Hey,” she says sweetly.
I look up, and her eyes are kind and also vulnerable on me. Like she’s trying to show me the sadder pieces and not just happy-go-lucky Daisy.
She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “I don’t think many people have been in this living arrangement before.”
We both look around the bare room. But it’s not really the space we’re feeling. It’s the people, the fame, the wealth.
When our eyes meet again, Daisy says, “We’re like unicorns here. Living out unique lives.” She stares off in thought. “Not a lot of people will ever understand what we go through or even care, and that’s partly why we’ve been drawing closer to each other, living together.” She hugs her legs. “I wasn’t always that close with Rose and Lily, but I really wanted to be.”
“You weren’t that close?”
And she goes on to tell me deeper things about her childhood, about being the sister left behind, and Daisy asks me more about my life in Maine.
We talk for hours and hours, and we forget about paint colors. It’s a tomorrow project. Today, I just really like sharing her company. And I know I’m not going to regret moving in.
25 BACK THEN – May
Smoky Mountains
WILLOW MOORE
Age 18
Internal Freak-Out Status: I’m on a vacation with the Calloway sisters and their men.
Rose asked if I’d like to join their trip to the lake house.
Location: top-secret. No one online knows the destination. It’s supposed to be a peaceful oasis away from the paparazzi. The fact that they’re letting me in on this secret is a huge honor that I want to safekeep and protect.
The drive has been long. The kind that needs many pitstops and even driver rotations. Luckily, no has asked me to man the wheel. Not that I’m a bad driver. But both Jane Cobalt and Maximoff Hale are situated in car seats in the back, Connor sitting between the kids.
My nervous energy will most likely skyrocket with the responsibility of protecting the almost-one-year-old babies.
Right now, all that responsibility rests in Lily’s hands, but she’s undoubtably been the best driver so far. Her eyes barely even flit to the passenger seat where Rose texts on her phone.
“Is that Mom again?” Lily asks her sister.
Silence eats the car, and I wonder if whatever text Rose received is important. Probably. Very important people are in this vehicle. Like my brother. Lo sits next to me in one of the middle seats, an aisle between our chairs.
He gazes out the window, probably looking for the other car. Ryke and Daisy drove separately. The whole process of even leaving the neighborhood took security vehicles, diversions with an assist from bodyguards, and a lot of work before we even made it on our route.
It reminds me how secretive this trip really is.
I glance down at my cell, checking the ETA. We still have hours left. I wish I could text Garrison, but he handed me his cellphone this morning. It’s currently stashed away in my backpack, squeezed between my shoes.
My stomach has been in a series of knots this entire car ride.
I may have…smuggled someone into this Escalade’s trunk.
But he’s blindfolded. (His suggestion.) He has no idea where we’re headed, and he can’t see a thing. I trust Garrison not to spill the location, but no one else in the car will trust him.
I know the blindfold might not help, but it’s a last-ditch effort in case everything goes wrong and he’s caught.
I haven’t even been living with them long and I’m already doing something that could threaten their trust in me. My stomach tosses and turns, causing worse nausea than a normal bout of car sickness.
The alternative was worse. Leaving Garrison alone in Philly with nowhere to go. Lily installed extra security cameras at Superheroes & Scones, so Garrison can’t sleep there anymore. If I don’t help him, he’ll have to return home where he could run into his brothers again. That’s the last place I want him to be.
I’m his only friend.
Friends are supposed to smuggle each other in trunks.
That’s just how it works, right?
Before I zipped him up in the duffel bag, I handed him a water bottle and a banana. He has nourishment and fluids. Still…
I’m freaking out a little bit.
It’s impossible not to worry. He’s in a duffel bag right now. Bumping along with the Escalade. And since his phone is in my backpack, Garrison has no way to communicate with me.
It’s dangerous.
When we left this morning, I even shoved his cell back into his chest, knowing how risky this could be. What if he has heat stroke? What if he doesn’t get enough air? He could die inside luggage and I’m just sitting here with zero clue.
I told all of these things to Garrison.
But he just looked me in the eye and said, “You have to take my phone, Willow. Because if we get caught, you’ll be in worse shit with your family if they know I had it.” They’ll think he snitched to someone about the lake house’s location.
He was thinking about me.
I’m still thinking about him. I sort of hate that I agreed in the end. I mean, what’s the probability that they’d even be angry if he had a phone? He’s already blindfolded.
This was a really stupid idea.
“Rose?” Lily asks, since Rose still hasn’t replied to her.
“She wants us at next week’s luncheon,” Rose replies, confirming that she’s talking to their mom. “Which is not happening.” I’ve heard about the fancy luncheons that the Calloway sisters go to just to visit with their parents. They don’t sound fun.
A white Ferrari speeds up and drives next to our car; Coconut’s head flops out of the open window. A big goofy smile on the husky’s face. On the passenger side, Ryke clasps the top of the window frame.
Suddenly, Daisy steps on the gas, zipping off fast. The Ferrari must go from our speed (maybe forty?) to a hundred miles per hour in a second flat. My jaw is on the floor.
That is…terrifying.
And yet, I really love hanging out with Daisy.
“Uhh…” Lily gapes. “I’m not supposed to follow them, am I?”
Lo shakes his head. “No way. We’re not driving off a cliff with Thelma and Louise.”
Heat encases me, hot with worry. I dig through my backpack for a water bottle. “Do they know where they’re going?”
Daisy said she planned to follow us, and I don’t want her to end up in a ditch where we can’t find her. Even the thought brings this wave of panicked sadness.
“Nope,” Lo says. “I hope he gets lost.” Please no.
“Knowing Ryke and Daisy, I’m sure that’s their goal,” Connor chimes in from the backseat.
I don’t know if she’ll receive it, but I quickly text Daisy. Love you. I wish I could text her the directions, but no one’s allowed to share them over any electronic device. In case of hacks. Reminding her that I care is the best I can do. I wouldn’t ever tell her to stop being who she is. Daredevil and all.
Leaning forward, I fiddle with the middle console air vents, trying to direct them towards the back. Even though I’m way too far away from the trunk.
Please don’t die in the trunk.
26 BACK THEN – May
Whatever Nowhere-ville
GARRISON ABBEY
Age 18
I’ve done some strange shit. Drunk. High. But being curled up in a duffel bag for twelve hours definitely is the strangest. And I’m stone-cold sober.
By hour three, I was rethinking the sober part.
I should’ve taken about five shots of vodka before Willow helped me into this bag. She volunteered to load the trunk just to make sure no one would throw their suitcases on me. Grateful doesn’t even cut what I feel.
A blindfold covers my eyes, the fabric soft. I’m fully in the over-sized duffel with just an inch unzipped for air circulation. Every pitstop when it’s clear the Escalade is emptied out of passengers, I readjust. Sometimes, I unzip the bag just so I can extend my legs. But I’ve only done that once so far. Not wanting to risk it.
She’s putting a lot of fucking trust in me.
Bucket loads.
I’m not going to blow it.
But fuck, it’s hot back here. My shirt suctions to my skin, sweat building. A water bottle pokes me in the spine, but I haven’t taken a sip. I can hold my bladder as long as I don’t consume liquids.
It’s been a couple hours since the last pitstop where I stretched my legs, and I’m not about to do gymnastics with people in the car. Connor Cobalt’s voice sounds the closest, which makes me think he’s in the backseat.
That guy is way too perceptive not to notice something rustling around in the trunk. My legs ache, but it’s better than ruining Willow’s relationship with her family. I’m already putting that on a razor-thin line.
“You have two miles and then you turn right.” Rose’s voice is faint. Front seat. Maybe passenger side. It’s been kind of a fun game trying to pinpoint the seating arrangements. At least it’s taken my mind off of being in a duffel bag.
Fuck, my life is weird.
The car starts to meander around winding roads like we’re driving on mountains. The movement churns my stomach. Don’t get car sick. Dude, if I upchuck in this duffel bag and have to sit in my own puke, I might die. Literal death.
I breathe quietly through my nose and cinch my eyes close. I drift off for a couple minutes until Loren’s voice shoots me awake.
“Hey!” Lo shouts. “Crazy Raisins!”
No clue what that’s about. All I know is I haven’t heard Ryke and Daisy’s voices in the Escalade since we left Philly. I figure they must be in a different vehicle.
Rose yells, “Follow us, please! Daisy, you don’t need to be driving in the dark!”
“How many times has she driven a car?” Connor questions calmly.
Recently, Willow asked me whether my Mustang would be faster than a Ferrari. I told her it depends on the models—but I’m not a car expert or anything. I don’t think she meant to tell me more. I think she kind of slipped. But off my confusion about the question, since it was out of the blue, she kept going.
I know that Daisy’s Ferrari is brand new. Two weeks new. I know it’s also her first car, having only really driven motorcycles before.
Information I shouldn’t have.
Information I won’t share with a soul. I’d die first, I think.
Rose yells louder, “Daisy how many times have you driven any kind of car?!”
I strain my ears just to hear Daisy’s reply from outside. “Cuatro!”
Four.
Holy shit.
“Bro, why are you riding in the deathmobile?!” Lo yells at his brother.
“We’re fucking fine!” Ryke screams from outside.
If they’re going to be fine, I have to believe I’m going to be okay. Because honestly, I can’t tell what’s a bigger risk.
Being in a car with Daisy Calloway or hiding out in this duffel bag.
Luckily, the choice has already been made for me.
The Escalade is parked for longer than just a pee-break. I can tell because they’re all talking outside, too casually to be in a public space.
What I infer: we must have arrived at the lake house. I can almost taste freedom out of this suffocating duffel bag. Before that, though, I have to actually figure out a way to exit the trunk without being seen.
Easier said than done.
I stay quiet. Motionless. Listening to the sound of their conversation outside.
“Is anyone else scared of bears?” Lily’s voice carries loudly. Bears. I have no clue where we are—but I’m guessing it’s somewhere secluded in the woods. Shit, I don’t really want to hypothesize when I’m not supposed to know the exact location.
“Moose are scarier,” Willow says.
My lips inch up.
“There are moose here?!” Lily yells in fright. “Why didn’t anyone tell me about the moose?! Lo, did you know about the moose?”
With her high-pitched tone, it sounds more comical than it should. My smile pulls higher, wishing I was out there. And then, my bladder suddenly rebels against me. Fuck, I have to piss. My legs ache, and I try to rub my hamstring without causing noise.
“No, no,” Willow says swiftly to Lily, “I just meant in general. There were a lot of moose in Maine, but I’ve never been around here, so I wouldn’t know.”
“No moose,” Connor declares.
Someone groans. Sounds deep like Ryke’s voice. It’s confirmed when I hear him say, “Can we please fucking ban the word moose from now on?”
“Agreed,” Rose adds.
“I like a good moose in the morning,” Loren pipes in just to be that guy and irritate the shit out of everyone. I’d give him a gold star.
I tune them out when my hamstring starts to fully cramp. Motherfucker. I grind down on my teeth and press the heels of my palms to my forehead. Might as well zip up this duffel bag and toss it into a hole. Bury me in the ground where I belong.
My insides twist, and I let out a tensed breath through my nose.
“We obviously need to go over the fucking rules about bears,” Ryke says to something I missed. “Unless it’s hunting season or the bear is attacking you, you can’t shoot it.”
“Says who?” Rose combats.
“The fucking law,” Ryke replies. “I can’t believe I camped with you, and we didn’t talk about this. Look, I brought bear spray for everyone, so it’s non-fucking-negotiable.”
“Let’s start unpacking before it gets dark.” Connor’s words ignite panic in every pore of my body. Unpacking involves popping this trunk. The one where I’m currently stuffed inside a duffel bag. I stop breathing. Stop moving.
I might as well be a corpse.
“You guys should look at the house first,” Willow interjects. “I’ll start unpacking.”
She’s got this, Abbey. Calm the fuck down.
“You’re not here as manual labor,” Loren refutes. “So you should explore the house with us.”
Willow clears her throat uneasily. “I…” Her voice tapers off.
I wish I were out there helping her, but that’d just blow everything to shit. Guilt gnaws my insides. You put her in this position, my head screams at me.
I don’t want to ruin her. Turn her into someone who lies to the people who love her. But I’m sinking, and I feel myself clinging to anything on shore. So I grip her fingers, and I’m terrified I’ll pull her down with me.
I’m doing it right now.
I know.
I know.
Fuck, I know.
This was a bad idea.
Willow continues, more confident this time, “I was going to call my mom—I mean, our mom. Or…you know, whatever she is. I just needed a minute alone.”
The quiet somehow sounds tense, and I’m not even out there.
A beat later, Loren replies, “Yeah, I didn’t realize you were in contact with her, but…definitely, as long as you don’t tell her the location of where you are—”
“No way. I’d never do that.”
“I just had to make sure.” He says something else, but cramping intensifies in my hamstring. It’s worse than any cramp I’ve had in lacrosse, and I was that asshole drinking pickle juice on the side of a field trying to eliminate tight quads.
I think…I think I have to move.
Slowly and carefully, I reach down to my thigh, my fingers kneading the muscle. I have to angle a little to touch the spot. God, that feels better. I close my eyes as I continue massaging the muscle. My elbow collides with a hard suitcase and lets out a thump.
Pain blooms but it’s dulled under my hysteria.
My heart jettisons from my body. Out of this car. Out of this planet.
Did anyone else hear that?
I listen harder. Voices are quiet, almost distant. I have no chance at distinguishing the words. I don’t know if that’s good or bad. And then…
The trunk beeps, indicating that the hood is lifting.
Oh fuck.
I suck in a breath, holding it. Not moving a muscle. Please don’t see the massive almost human-sized duffel bag in this car.
“Garrison?”
Willow. I let out a breath of relief.
She whispers, “Can you…um…make sure your blindfold is on?” She adds quickly, “Don’t reply. Lo is still on the stoop. I’m pretending I’m on the phone with my mom.” She must have the cell to her ear. “I’m going to get you out of the trunk. Just hold tight, okay?”
27 BACK THEN – May
Smoky Mountains
WILLOW MOORE
Age 18
“Are you alright?” I whisper. “Do you need water? Food? Oh my God, your legs.” I press my fingers to my lips. His calves are swollen the size of small melons.
Garrison rubs them as he sits on the edge of my mattress.
I’ve already snuck him inside the lake house, which took less maneuvering than I thought it would. All thanks to Ryke who wanted to give everyone a safety lesson with bear spray in the woods. They didn’t question my phone call with my mom, so I stayed back to sneak Garrison up to my room.
Wherever You Are (Bad Reputation Duet Book 2) Page 23