Trust Me, Trust Me Not (Gavert City Book 3)

by Elodie Nowodazkij

  SHE TURNS AROUND AND her eyes are wild: wide-open, pupils dilated. “I’m not sure I can pass this class. I thought I could. But I’ve been late three times and I got a D on that first discussion paper. I’m going to fail. I thought I could do this...and then...” She glances behind her as if she’s expecting someone, takes a deep breath, and mutters, “Never mind.”

  “You can do it,” I assure her. “You read books on the compound when you weren’t supposed to. You fought for the kids to learn how to read and they did. You saved your brother and sister. You can do this.”

  She doesn’t seem convinced, staring at her shoes. Time to change my approach. “Remember when Kate gave me a book to read to you at the hospital? You weren’t as groggy anymore and we had a long discussion about how the author managed to portray what it feels like to not have any right choices.” I gently guide her toward the bench again and we both sit down. “We talked for hours about what it meant for the characters and what other books it reminded you of. We argued about it.”

  She sighs, looks up and back down. “There wasn’t any pressure, no format I had to follow, no big words I had no idea about. Sometimes, I have to search the meaning of a word before even understanding the assignment. When I took those summer classes, I struggled. It was hard. But not like that.”

  She looks so defeated. And my heart sinks to my feet but then I shake my head. “We can do this. You can do this.”

  She licks her lips as if she’s parched for water but the small gesture makes my gaze focus on her mouth. Wrong timing. Very wrong timing. Hormones, get your shit together. I take a deep breath and step back away from her vanilla scent.

  Lacey leans back. “What am I going to do for you?”

  Let me help you take your guard down. Let me show you, you don’t have to be afraid. Let me believe that whatever we have going on can be real.

  Even if you may never trust me again if you find out what I’m doing.

  She turns to me and her gaze meets mine. Hopeful. And there’s no way in hell I’m going to disappoint her right in this moment. She looks away first. “I’m not joking. I need to help you with something. You can’t save me all the time.”

  I’m not sure she realizes she’s been saving me too. When she jumped from that window, my heart stopped. I didn’t know her but I needed her to live. She was my second rescue with the team. The first one got saved but not thanks to me. I almost screwed it for the team, acting too much like I knew what I was doing, trying to be a hero. “You’re going to help me not get kicked out. I think that’s a fair trade.”

  She shakes her head. “You know it’s not. You’re going to spend so much time helping me.” Her voice steels. She doesn’t sound as worried as she did, more resolute. “And that’s time you don’t have. Between the hours you need to give at the firehouse, your own work, helping your mom and grandparents.”

  There’s something she could help me with, but it’s a gamble. “I need someone to help me organize the upcoming events for the firehouse. Because of the plagiarism accusation at school, I’ve been volunteered for a bunch of events. There’s the fall carnival followed by a barbecue and dance. And if I bring in someone new for the auxiliary, Chief and the auxiliary president are going to be over the moon about me. Major brownie points.”

  She squints as if she’s trying to understand what I’m asking so I continue, “For the fall carnival, I’m supposed to help with kids’ games. And I’d need someone to come with me at the barbecue and dance.”

  “I’m sure you can find someone to go with you.” She frowns.

  “Yeah, but I need someone who also helps me at the different stands and someone I’d like to go with.” I continue talking almost as fast as she does, because guilt is insinuating itself in my mind. If she does this with me, she’ll be closer. If she says yes, we’d spend even more time together.

  Which means she’s going to help me in ways she doesn’t even know.

  Which means I’m going to have to live with that guilt that seems to find new ways to taunt me.

  Which means I’m going to have permanent blue balls. But if that’s the way for her to feel like we’re both helping one another, that it’s not a one-way street, then permanent blue balls it is.

  I scan her reaction, waiting for her answer, unsure if I just had my best idea yet.

  Or my worst.

  CHAPTER 8 – LACEY

  “The fall carnival?” I repeat finally. My voice is steady unlike the rhythm of my heart that’s bouncing all over the place. I can already picture us eating cotton candy and going on the Ferris wheel. This is what I thought life after the compound would be like.

  Hunter runs his hand through his hair. His hand’s rough. I remember the feeling of it on my face. It feels like a century ago. “Yep. It’s in two weeks.”

  “Maybe I could.” I’m thinking out loud. “You said something about organizing...” And people. He said something about people. I thought being in a crowd would be easy. Being one in a dozen could make it easier to blend in, but I was wrong. Again.

  His eyes are trained on me—he doesn’t look at the few students hurrying to their classes. “I’ll be with you,” he says at first because even if we haven’t seen each other in weeks, he knows me and my worries. “It’s almost all organized. They need manpower and a few more ideas for the kids’ activities. We had to change the location and instead of doing it right next to the station, it’s only a mile away by the Miller barn.” His thigh touches mine and warmth spreads to my face. Hunter’s not pushing me. He’s always so careful around me, like I could break. Maybe he’d finally see me for more than just the girl he saved if we spent more time together.

  “You said it’s in two weeks?”

  “Yep. We have a meeting this Friday at seven at the fire station to finalize the details and discuss the kids’ activities. You could come with me and meet everyone.”

  “Meet. Everyone.” I almost gulp. Could it be my chance to finally feel like I belong, or another opportunity to make more mistakes?

  “It’s a small group. As I said, the auxiliary president will be there and then the five other people on the committee. And I’ll be there.” I could get lost in his smile. His smile is warm and reaches his eyes. I’m sure his ex-girlfriend misses his smiles. I’d miss them. “If you have the time, it might look good on your resume too. You were saying you needed more to apply to some on-campus jobs next semester.”

  He’s right. I’m babysitting now a few times a month but that’s it. And I need to save money. The scholarship doesn’t cover everything. And what if I lose it?

  Plus, part of me thinks about the calm the to-do lists would bring me. Some of the things that always grounded me, while my stepdad took almost everything from me, included teaching the small kids how to read and write, any friends I had, and —when he was really pissed —the freedom to walk around the compound to make lists in my mind.

  The books I would read.

  The places I would see.

  The laughs I would have.

  I didn’t dream of faraway places—even though seeing the Mont-Saint-Michel was high on the list. I had watched a documentary about it when I was seven and it stayed on my mind. It seemed like the place of the fairy tales I used to read at the school’s library.

  But that was it. All of the other places were close by: the bench by our old mobile home where I had carved my initials in, the old tree where Luke and I had a swing, seeing the lake again where I learned how to swim with my brother and Mellie.

  Mellie. Tessa’s sister. She, Tessa, Luke, and I spent a summer believing we could do everything. And when I saw her again years later at the compound, she had seemed so lost. In a way, I was luckier than her. She was kidnapped by the cult not long after that summer. She didn’t know her family still loved her, was still looking for her. She didn’t know how wrong and corrupt the cult was. I had seen it all. Mom forced us into the cult, but Luke and I had known.

  My heart hurts thinking about Melli
e. I want to live for her, live every moment for her; the ones she didn’t have, and the ones we dreamed about when we were thirteen before the cult, before our choices and lives were taken away from us.

  “Hey.” His hand briefly touches my shoulder. It’s so brief but my entire body jolts. It’s not fear. I feel safe around him. It’s awareness. A desire to lean into him. “You don’t have to. Your choice.” He pauses and I look up at him. The sun peeks through the clouds and I squint to see his eyes. “Your choice, Lace. Always.”

  And I’m not sure if he’s talking about the fall carnival or something else.

  Something more.

  HIS PHONE RINGS AND I quickly look away, pretty sure he’d notice all those feelings I wouldn’t even begin to understand if he looked at me.

  “I have to take this,” he whispers, still giving me his full attention before turning around, moving so easily despite the fact that he’s so strong. I remember the feeling of his arms holding me. Of his encouraging words. His jokes. Trying to make me smile. Almost always succeeding.

  He’s wearing a dark sweater, one that stretches on his broad shoulders. And a collared shirt underneath. He usually wears hoodies or sport jackets. But I guess today he was trying to be a bit more official for his meeting. Leaves fall from the oak tree by the benches. Everything seems so peaceful. It's hard to reconcile with the past, with my thoughts that run on their own to the darker side no matter how much I strive to be present.

  Be present in the moment.

  He’s been nodding to whomever is on the phone, but then he takes a step away and sounds slightly annoyed. “I know. I told you that I’m doing my best.” A pause and a sigh. “I’ll call you later. I can’t talk right now.”

  I force myself to focus on the leaves. Different shapes. Different colors. The smell in the air changes too. There’s a smell to fall. It’s always been my favorite. It’s not about the different flavored coffee, even though since I left the compound, I’ve been enjoying them.

  It’s more about possibilities and warmth.

  “I said I’ll talk to you later,” he repeats, sounding more tired than annoyed now, and he hangs up before turning his full attention back to me.

  My phone buzzes and I glance at it. My brother texts me at random moments, usually funny dog videos, ‘cause he knows they make me laugh. It’s almost twelve.

  “Aren’t you going to be late to class?” And then I want to swallow the words back. Why do I know his schedule? And why did I blabber about it? I asked Elena if she knew what classes he might be taking. And she did mention one of her friends in the same program and same year had an early afternoon class on Tuesdays. But it’s not like I know for sure.

  His teasing grin tells me he knows exactly why I talked too fast but I must be red because he doesn’t push me on it. It’s like he has this internal barometer for when to push me and when to simply stand back.

  “I’ll be on time.” He scans the area around us. “Are you going to be okay?”

  And with that question, we’re back to our old pattern. I stiffen and I’m not sure he notices it.

  “I’ll be fine.” I stand up and swing my bag on my shoulder like I have no care in the world. “I’m going to go to the library and then I have Calculus at two.”

  “How about the volunteering at the daycare? Did you stop by like you wanted to?”

  My lips part and my eyes widen. He remembers. He remembers everything.

  “You did tell me at the hospital that you heard about the daycare program for employees and students on this campus and that you really wanted to join the Early Education program.” He pauses. “You said you needed more experience and their internship program would be great, but you first needed to put in a few volunteering hours.”

  Maybe he doesn’t know all the time when to not push me. I feel like I’m not living up to my own expectations when I’m cornered. I correct my own thought. When I feel cornered. My therapist used to tell me that sometimes I feel the way I do because of trauma I haven’t dealt with yet.

  I take a deep calming breath that doesn’t calm me much. “I will.” I won’t. I want to, but if I mess that up too, I’m not sure how to move forward. I’ve always wanted to be a teacher but the last time I went to the daycare center, my skin clammed up. The Master told me it was my fault if Lila didn’t survive her escape. She did. But I didn’t know it back then. He told me I should have known better. He told me I wasn’t trustworthy. He told me I was weak.

  Hunter frowns. It’s only a second but I catch it. “I can go with you if you want.”

  “I told you I’m fine,” I snap and then sigh. “I mean...I’ll be okay. I will be. I need to go. I have to study for English and the assignments but I also have other classes. Lots of classes. I’ll think about the fundraiser and the barbecue. I mean yes for the barbecue. I’ll do it. I’ll go with you to the meeting tomorrow. For the fundraiser, I’ll see with Tessa what she thinks about it.” I hurry away before he can say another word. It might have been the perfect word, exactly what I needed to hear, but sometimes even what I need to hear isn’t enough.

  I keep my head down as I make my way again through the small passage between the Psych building and the School of Journalism. I’ve done it this morning. I can do it again. The main library is on the other side of the quad. My stomach rumbles. Maybe the dining hall isn’t as crowded right now. The breakfast crowd should be mostly gone and the lunch crowd is more spread out. The small alley is a bit darker. The sun’s hidden behind clouds again.

  There are steps behind me but I don’t give them power. They’re steps. Just steps. Other students.

  “You! You’re the reason he’s dead!” The loud voice stops me. I spin around. I’m doing what the people in the horror movies do. Why am I not running off? My brain doesn’t control my feet.

  A girl with clear blue eyes...eyes I’ve seen before, but on someone else. She’s tall but frail. “You bitch. You killed him. You killed my brother. You seduced him and then you killed him. He never would have been kicked out if you didn’t kiss him. They told me about you.”

  I’m frozen. I can’t move. Noah’s sister. She lived with their dad in Maryland and they were supposed to build another branch of The Circle on the Eastern shore. The Master thought he could build a bigger following by expanding to the East Coast. I’m not sure how he would have done after his “Last Day on Earth” disaster. But apparently people have said the only reason the tragedy and fire happened is because non-believers like me screwed everything up.

  “Is he dead? How do you know he’s dead?” My heart hurts. My jaw clenches so hard the muscle by my ear twitches. “He can’t be dead.”

  “I got a message from someone named Hailey. She said Noah was never coming back. That after he got kicked out, he was murdered.” Her voice rises with each word. Tears fall down her cheek.

  “Eve,” I whisper, remembering her name. “The police also said he’s not the dead body that was found there. I promise. I can show you the message.” I continue to step away from the alley.

  She hesitates. A few students stand a bit far from us but are watching us carefully. She leans to one side then the other. “People have seen him,” I repeat more forcefully because it’s also the hope I’m holding to. If he’s dead, I’m not sure how I’d deal with it.

  When her hand slams against my cheek, I still don’t move. She slaps me again. Harder. It burns but my feet are still firmly planted on the ground.

  Why didn’t you fight back?

  A journalist asked me that question not long after I left the hospital. I wanted no part in the publicity, but my uncle said it might help me financially. He was right. Someone created a SendMoney account for the survivors. And the scholarship contacted me.

  She hits me again. There’s a struggle in the crowd. Some people are cheering. But there’s a scuffle. Everything is numb. My mind. My heart. My body. I can’t move. I fought back. And then he hit me harder. I fought back. And my brother got hurt. I fought back. An
d Noah got kicked away. I fought back. And Cass still got married. I fought back. And Mom died.

  I never stopped fighting back.

  I don’t think the journalist understood the passion, trust, and love my stepdad inspired. And fear. So much fear. Not all cults are the same but fear was a major component for us. Fear and reverence. And we’re not the only ones. Around the world, groups of people fall under the pretense of charismatic leaders. Some go to extremes. Some murder people.

  “What the hell is happening? Someone call 911!” Hunter holds Eve back. She doesn’t protest. He pushes her away from me and she crumbles, holding herself to the ground. His strong arms find me. His hands cradle my face gently. I wince. I’ll probably get a bruise. More and more people gather around us.

  “Don’t ask me if I’m okay,” I whisper, my voice cracking.

  His lips touch my hair. “I’m not okay,” he whispers. “Seeing you like this.” His fingers trail down my arms as if he wants to make sure I’m not about to disappear. “Seeing you like this,” he repeats and I turn to him. His jaw is set and his gaze burns with longing and worry. “I’m not okay.”

  I want to hug him but now that the adrenaline rushes out of my body, I’m no longer steady on my feet and my breathing accelerates.

  A woman from campus security approaches us. Hunter doesn’t leave my side. Eve struggles to stand up with the woman’s help. I only notice now how thin Eve is. Her hair’s greasy. She looks like Mellie did. A fist of unease grips my chest. “Are you still with them?” I step forward. “Are you still in Maryland with them? You need to leave. You need to go.”

  “I wish I was still with them,” she tells me, tears still falling. “You destroyed everything I had. Maybe I could show them. Show them I can still be trusted.” She pauses and stares at me, her eyes still reminding me of her brother. But his eyes were full of life; hers are full of despair and death. “When they kicked me out, I thought I’d try to find Noah. But...Hailey...she told me what happened.” She inhales deeply. “Noah is dead. He’s dead and you killed him. When he got kicked out of the cult, he wanted to help you. He wanted to save you. He died trying to save you. Master Abram may be in jail, but he’s still all-powerful. He got one of his most devoted servants to find him and kill him.”