by J. M. Adele
Anchoring one hand and foot to the window frame, she leaned out. Only just managing to touch the pipe with her toes, she grunted in disappointment and yanked her body back to safety, taking some skin off her elbow on the white stucco wall.
Crap. She hissed in a breath. How the hell had Seth managed to do it so easily? He was taller than her, but he wasn’t a gymnast. But then, she’d never shimmied down a drainpipe.
All the hot air she’d pumped herself with wasn’t enough to help her float to the ground. Bravado slowly began to leak out like the blood from her fresh wound. Swiping at the warm tears wetting her cheeks, she expelled all the breath from her lungs and forced her shoulders to relax.
She could march right past the perma-wake-in-waiting, but that’d start a new battle she wasn’t up to dealing with.
No, you’re not going out.
No, you can’t take the car.
You must stay here and wait for absolutely frickin’ nothing to happen.
Screw them. They didn’t need to know what she was up to. And she wasn’t going to let them get in her way.
The wheel of chance slowed to a stop, the flapper landing on plan B.
Dashing to the bed, she gathered the pillows and threw them out of the window until they formed a good landing pad. She pulled the sheets from the mattress and tied the two together, attaching one end to the leg of the bed. Tugging on her makeshift rope, she smiled as it held firm. Now this she knew how to do.
Within seconds she was on the ground, running for the Mercedes parked in the driveway. She didn’t exactly have her license, but she’d done Driver’s Ed. She knew enough to get where she was going. All she had to do was put it in neutral and let it roll downhill on to the road. Her parents wouldn’t see or hear a thing, thanks to the handiwork of their gardener and his hedge fixation.
She slammed the brakes too hard at the bottom of the driveway, lurching forward before the seatbelt yanked her back. Shaking her head, she turned the key. Lanie glanced up at the Spanish mansion, just able to see the elaborate wrought-iron balustrade of the second-floor balcony from the road. The sheet rope hung limply from Shiloh’s window, a white flag of surrender and a desperate call for help all in one. Lanie wanted to floor the accelerator, her tolerance level dipping into the negative, but she held back. They’d figure out what she’d done eventually. Maybe they’d wonder where she’d gone, but running away was a totally different deal to going missing.
She’d probably be back before they noticed.
She stewed on that thought all the way to the high school. It took three laps of the crowded Boulevard High parking lot before she gave up and pulled the car onto the grass verge. What the hell are all these cars doing here?
Stepping out of the air-conditioned Mercedes, the sun’s bite had her skin instantly slick with sweat. She gave her shirt a couple of tugs to fan herself before securing her backpack. Lanie headed towards the nearest building and cupped her hands around her face, peeking in a window. The desks were all in neat rows. Black scrawl covered the whiteboard. But there were no students. It wasn’t even lunchtime. There must be some event happening.
She shook her head. Who the hell cared? Focus, Lanie.
Her search had to begin at the end—where they’d found her sister’s blood.
She brushed the dust from her hands and jogged towards the gymnasium that housed the basketball courts and aquatic center. As she weaved around the buildings and past the football field, the breeze carried the sound of singing coming from the gym.
She veered off, cracking open the door to the locker room, and positioned herself at the entrance to the courts so she could peer in without being seen. Bodies were crammed tightly together, filling the bleachers. On the center court, a table covered in red cloth held a large framed photograph of Shiloh—the same photo that was on the mantelpiece, only this one was blown up to three times its size—garnished with floral decorations.
They were having a frickin’ memorial service?
And again, with the flowers.
Shiloh hated flowers.
Why the hell hadn’t Lanie been told about this? Why didn’t her parents know? Or maybe her parents did know, but they didn’t want any part of it because they were still in denial. Oh, yeah. She’d bet her left butt cheek they knew.
Jesus, wake up and smell the blood.
The music faded, replaced by papers shuffling and weeping. Nobody spoke a word. They all sat looking like giant rainclouds hung over their heads, pissing on their parade. Oh, please. None of them really knew Shiloh. They all wanted to be her, and to be liked by her. But none of them ever got that close. Shiloh just made them think they did. They were in shock, that was all.
Madeline, one of Shiloh’s teammates, stepped up to the microphone. Lanie’s shoulders locked and her teeth ground together as she remembered Madeline shoving her head into a toilet on her first day as a freshman. Bee-otch. Lanie could almost smell the overdose of Wonderstruck from her hiding place.
Aside from the tragic spray tan, Madeline was Malibu Barbie with an extra layer of muscle. She’d been Shiloh’s biggest competition since elementary school.
“Hello—”
The shrill squeal of feedback pierced the air as hundreds of hands flew to block ears. Madeline grabbed the mic and moved away from the speakers while some guy fiddled with the amplifier.
“Let’s try that again. Hello, everyone. Thank you all for coming to farewell one of Boulevard’s best and brightest stars.” She pushed her hair behind her shoulders and began to strut along the sidelines, obviously soaking in the fact that all eyes were on her. “I’m sure most of you know me. My name is Madeline Grant. Shiloh was my teammate, and my best friend.”
Lanie had to cough at that, moving back farther into the shadows.
“When I heard the news, I was absolutely devastated. It’s a shock I’ll never recover from.” A manicured finger reached up to dab away invisible tears. “I wanted to give all of us, those who adored her, a chance to say goodbye and celebrate her life in our own special way.”
Lanie watched the Z-grade performance, almost convinced there were actual tears. Madeline’s gal pals were doing just as awful a job in the stands, clutching at each other and churning through the Kleenexes. Listening to Madeline drivel was about as enjoyable as the acoustic feedback from earlier. Lanie plugged her fingers in her ears, expecting to find a trail of blood dribbling out.
Blood.
She had to get to the pool and check out the scene. The place would’ve been scrubbed clean by forensics, but maybe she’d find something. They didn’t know Shiloh. Maybe she’d left some clue. She just needed to see it. See where her sister’s life had ended.
Lanie took three steps towards the exit before an uproar sounded from the gym. Spinning around, she lurched for the door.
Her eyes squinted, unsure of the shift in reality.
What—
I can’t—
She dropped her ass on the floor. Her jaw hung loose on its hinge as a tsunami of emotion carved a hole in her chest.
Impossible.
Amnesia
Covered in dirt and streaked with blood, Shiloh stumbled into the gym, still wearing her swimsuit. With her hands twisted together and her eyes as wide as dinner plates, she wondered what she was doing here. Her thoughts formed a twisted pile of metal. A car crash blocking the flow of consciousness. Her body followed a compulsion, denying her any control. There was something here she needed. Nothing her mind understood, but something her body implicitly sought to ease the hollow in her gut.
She stirred up pandemonium with every lurching step, the crowd spilling from the stands. They came close, openly staring, but nobody reached out. Whispers followed her . . . She’s a mess. What the fuck happened to her? Someone cover her up. Their message bounced off the membrane of her eardrum but didn’t sink through. The onslaught of noise and chaotic movement sucked the breath from her lungs and turned her legs to blocks of ice, but she pushed on. She was stil
l locked firmly in survival mode.
Her eyes wildly searched the crowd for . . . who the hell knew? Familiar faces seemed to fly at her before something in her demeanor pushed them back.
The crowd slowly parted, opening a corridor as she stumbled towards the locker rooms. Her gaze locked on a pair of eyes so similar to her own. Sister. Her brain knew the connection, but the emotion that should’ve accompanied the recognition was lost in a void somewhere. The need to find it consumed her in a frenzy, and chased Shiloh’s rational mind until it was a cowering fraction of the whole in one corner.
What Shiloh’s body sought suddenly became clear.
She finally reached her destination. Planting her feet either side of her sister’s knees, she looked down at Lanie’s fragile form, folded awkwardly on the floor.
“Where is he?” The hard crust coating her vocal cords crumbled off, pulverizing her words to ash. The last time she’d made a sound it had been a glass-shattering scream. She hacked out a cough and tried again. “Where is he?”
Lanie blinked and ratcheted her body to stand. “Who? What happened to you? Where have you been? How are you even alive?”
“Shut up!” If she had any spit, it would’ve sprayed from her mouth. “Where is Seth?”
The gym doors slammed open as Seth barged in. “Shiloh!”
Whipping herself around, Shiloh was flooded with relief. He’s here. He’ll take care of me. Her parents scurried along behind him. She spared them a fleeting glance before toppling into his arms.
Shiloh’s chest slowly expanded back to normal. The ice melted from her limbs, leaving them limp. She clung to him like he was a lifebuoy. The frantic drive to find what she needed began to fade as her body surrendered to exhaustion.
“You came back to me.” Seth’s broken whisper hit the side of her neck, and a shiver rolled down her spine.
“Always,” she mouthed, unable to get her voice to work. Her arms came to life for a second, enough to give a squeeze before going limp again.
She had nothing left.
“Let’s get out of here.”
“She needs a hospital,” her dad protested.
“No. Home.” A force came through Shiloh’s voice from somewhere unknown, dropping it an octave, and her dad reared back, his jaw loosening.
I’m not going to any goddamn hospital. Seth. I just need Seth.
Her boyfriend lifted her into his arms, carrying her out to her dad’s car. Through heavy lids, she watched the distraught faces of her family as they scrambled after them. Her mother’s hand smoothed the hair off her forehead, searing her skin like a hot brand. Shiloh hissed and jerked away, propelling her mom into a fit of despair, her face crumbling as she reached her arms out for an unrequited embrace. She couldn’t bring herself to care.
Something had detached inside her.
But her connection to Seth had grown tenfold. A powerful energy drew them together. She didn’t want anyone else touching her.
Ever.
Just Seth.
The trip home didn’t register. She remained cradled in Seth’s arms, the world around becoming a blur of shadows and light, echoes and pulsing.
Tucking her head into his neck, Seth lifted her out and took her into the house. The fragrance of lilies, roses, and magnolias assaulted her nose, and she pressed farther into his skin to quieten the nausea. They knew she hated flowers. Why would they do that to her?
Under her nose, she could feel Seth’s pulse, could scent it through his skin, and flicked the tip of her tongue out to taste. Her eyes widened, her own pulse speeding up at the flavor. The deliciousness zinged across her taste buds and went down to stir the hollow at her center. She couldn’t help releasing a cry. It barreled out from the pit of her gut and whipped up a sandstorm in her dry throat. Shiloh’s vision focused with the accuracy of a telephoto lens, able to see each pore, hair, and bead of sweat on that patch of skin at the side of his throat. She mapped the network of veins under the thin layer and saw the beat of his blood tick as it passed through the artery below.
“Shh, Shiloh. It’s okay. Just a bit farther and you can lie down.” Seth’s baritone rumbled through the side of her face where she had it pressed to his cheek.
“What’s wrong with her? Is she having a seizure?” Lanie’s annoying screech clawed at her ears.
Seth pulled her quaking body closer. “She’s probably in a bit of shock. I’ll put her in bed. Do you have extra blankets?”
“Yes. Lanie, run and get them. Quickly.”
Shiloh eyeballed her sister. With her hands pressed to her ears, Lanie’s face was screwed up in pain. Beside her, their mother also blocked her ears, her face ashen as she stared back. Her father stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking up in horror.
They look like scared little mice.
I’m scared, too.
“Shiloh.”
She turned back to Seth, zeroing in on the greens and browns flecked in his tawny eyes.
“You need to stop making that noise.”
Cutting the sound off, she clenched her teeth together, but was shaking so badly they chattered.
Seth blew his dark blond hair out of his eyes as he whisked her into the bedroom and onto the bare mattress. Sheets hung out of her open window, tethered to the bed leg. Her mother scurried off to get pillows, and Lanie appeared in the doorway with blankets piled high in her arms. Seth swaddled her in the coverings and climbed on the bed beside her while Lanie looked on, chewing her fingernails. Her mom helped him arrange the pillows before reaching out to touch her forehead again.
Shiloh braced for the sting, snapping, “No!”
The woman wrenched her arm back, biting her lip as she gripped a hand around her throat.
Throat.
Whipping her eyes back to Seth’s pulsing neck, Shiloh licked her lips, the shakes growing more violent. The periphery of her vision blurred as she focused on those two inches of his skin.
He swallowed. “Okay, guys. I think maybe we just give her some space.”
Thump, thump, thump. The smooth skin jumped in time with the blood surging below.
Stretching a finger, she massaged the line of his artery, feeling it throb.
Throbbing. Surging.
Lanie butted in with her objections. “What about you? Why don’t you back off so we can get near her?”
Seth’s body tensed. “Lanie—”
Enough. Her vision tinted red. She shot her family a glare. “Get out!” Her whole body jerked. She was startled at the ferocity of her response.
What the hell was wrong with her?
Her family didn’t stick around to find out.
That shrunken, cowering part of her consciousness clawed back to the surface, fueled by fear. Something wicked was consuming her, and if she didn’t fight back she’d be lost forever. Searching Seth’s eyes for the answer, she saw terror reflected back. She was scaring him, too.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s happening to me.” The words came out in pieces as her teeth chattered together.
“Shh. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” He wedged his body between her and the headboard. Curling his arms under the blankets and over her shoulders, he smoothed his hands down to grip the back of hers before wrapping their entwined arms around her.
His lips touched the shell of her ear and he whispered, “Sleep, baby. We’ll figure it out later. You’re exhausted.”
Yes, she was shattered.
She placed a kiss at his throat.
Suddenly the tremors stopped like all she’d had to do was flick a switch, and her eyelids dropped shut. The hollow in her belly filled with warmth and Seth rocked them side to side, humming until she slid . . . into . . . sleep.
_____
What—
Lanie couldn’t even put her thoughts in order enough to form a question.
That was—
She stood out in the hallway, staring at her sister’s closed bedroom door. Her parents flanked her, gob smacked faces pointed
at the solid wood. Everything on the other side of that door had gone quiet. Had Shiloh passed out? What the hell was going on?
The image of Shiloh in her torn, filthy swimsuit was tattooed on Lanie’s corneas. God, she’d been wearing the same thing all this time. That was abuse enough in Lanie’s mind, but what else had been done to her sister? It was a miracle she’d survived. But a person didn’t just walk away from a terrifying experience unscathed. Lanie’s heart cracked as she thought of the mental battles Shiloh would have to fight in her nightmares. Clearly, she wasn’t herself. If Lanie had been abducted and managed to escape, the first people she’d run to would be her family. Despite all their issues, Lanie still loved them. She just wanted to be loved by them in return. Shiloh had stared Lanie down like she was nothing. Just a way to get to the one she wanted—Seth.
‘Where is he?’
Lanie took the question like a sword through the heart.
When Shiloh walked into the gym, she’d barely been able to stand. Why hadn’t she gone to the hospital, or the police station? Or home? That didn’t make sense.
“I’m calling the police. Or an ambulance. Someone, anyone. This is ridiculous.”
“We’ll call in a doctor.” Her mom shook her head. “Just let her rest. The police will want to take her away for questioning, and we only just got her back.”
Lanie cranked her neck to squint at her mom, her hand twitching with the desire to slap her awake. “Are you serious? Didn’t you see her?” She huffed, leading the way down the stairs.
“Lanie, I’ve had just about enou—”
Several car doors slammed before there was a knock at the door, cutting off her father’s rebuke. Two dark figures crowded their porch, visible through the mottled glass entry.
“I bet it’s the cops.”
A splash of color moved beyond the figures, stirring a din. As her dad opened the door, ushering in the two detectives that had been assigned to Shiloh’s case, Lanie’s heart dropped in time with her mother’s gasp. The street in front of their house was abuzz with activity. Several news vans from the major networks, parked nose to tail, their satellite dishes pointed to the heavens. Perched on at least ten shoulders, video cameras pointed at tailored individuals clutching microphones as their mouths moved. Cameras set off in an endless burst of prying clicks, and reporters shouted invasive questions as they rushed at the door before it was slammed in their faces.