by E. M. Moore
Stone licks his lips. “You’re too cute. He told us about your one and only ally being an old man with a vision problem. Maybe you’d like to see what my father is capable of before you start bringing other people into the line of fire. I’m sure you’d be upset if something happened to Dickie.”
A rush of cold air swamps me, tingling the tips of my extremities. It’s a douse of reality that I’m way out of my league with these guys. Before I can think twice, I reach out and slap Stone Jacobs. “Don’t you dare—”
Wyatt and Lucas grab my arms, dragging me down a barely used hallway. My feet slide over the tile, trying to gain purchase, but they’re holding me just high enough so I can’t plant my feet. My bruised shoulder pings painfully, but I grit my jaw. No way will I show them a weakness.
Stone stalks after us, a smile on his face with a blooming splotch of red on his cheek. They move me around an ornate stone stairwell. In the shadows, they hover around me while my heart ricochets against my rib cage. To my left is a small window with a hole-riddled screen over it, kind of like the divider that separates the sinner from the priest while making confession. A quick check of the area, and I’m fully aware the guys are blocking the only way out. Not that I could struggle out of their strong grips anyway, but I would give them a damn good fight if there was a shot.
“What do you want?” I growl, still trying to yank free. Regardless of whether I think I can escape or not, I’m not going to be their little puppet either.
“Shh,” Stone says, then lifts his gaze to the window.
Shadows move in front of it, blocking most of the light coming through. I don’t know where the window leads, but voices filter through clearly, as if we’re in some sort of tunnel.
The first voice that speaks I recognize as belonging to Dean Smith. “Mr. Jacobs! Wonderful to see you. I’m thrilled to have your son and his friends on campus.” His voice oozes that sort of sugary sweetness of someone who needs to keep their companion happy.
I guess money buys you dogs who will pant at your feet.
Lance speaks next, and his chilling voice freezes me in place. “Thanks, Rob. That means a lot. I’ve actually come to discuss another student with you though. Dakota Wilder.” He lets my name hang in the air, and I wonder if he knows I’m listening. Waiting here with my heart beating a crazy rhythm to see what he’s going to do next. The wait is terrifying. “I’m just not sure she’s Saint Clary’s material. My son says he’s already had a couple of run-ins with her. I’m not sure you’re aware, but her family has always had some sort of perceived rivalry with mine, and it looks like she’s taking it out on Stone.”
“Oh,” Dean Smith says, clearly shocked. “I’m... I don’t know what to say.”
Stone takes my chin and moves my head until I’m looking straight into his eyes. “Do you see how easy it would be, Dakota? A few words to the dean and your scholarship is pulled. Say goodbye to that other life you dream of.”
I can still hear the voices of Lance and the dean in conversation, but it doesn’t matter what they’re saying anymore. Stone is right. They have all the power. “You’re despicable, and your father is even worse.”
“No, he’s a businessman. He makes decisions based on the good of all. You’re either an ally or you’re not.”
He skims his hand up my arms, past the patch Dickie placed on my shoulder after this morning’s “accident”. He lets his fingers roam all the way around the square pad. His light touches send goosebumps skittering over my skin, and I hate myself for it.
Stone’s lips part as he watches the invisible trail he makes, almost as if he can tell he’s marking me. “Meet us at Devil’s Hole tonight to give us your answer.”
Wyatt and Lucas release their hold on me, and the three of them turn to walk away. Lucas looks back at the last minute before they disappear around the corner. His brown eyes the color of caramel catch mine before looking away again.
Once they’re out of sight, I take in a deep breath. I move to the window, careful not to make any noise to see if Jacobs and Dean Smith are still talking, but I no longer hear their voices. It’s over. Just like that, whatever they decided is out of my control.
I rest my forehead against the stone underneath the weird screen, lifting my palms to place near my head. Why is this happening? First, my father. Now, my life is being infiltrated by the Jacobs.
I slap the stone with my open palm and stand straight again. It’s time for my next class and dwelling on how fucked my life has gotten isn’t helping at all.
I walk out of the secluded corner and immediately run into Dean Smith himself. My mouth drops when I see him, and instead of walking right by, he stops me. “Miss Wilder, I was just about to pull you out of class.” He gives me a look, knowing full well I should be in class right now on the other side of the building.
“I um...” I clear my throat. “I felt sick,” I say immediately. “I was just headed that way.”
“Come with me first.” I follow Dean Smith all the way to his office. He closes a huge wooden door and then instead of going over to the other side of his desk, he leans against it, facing me with a furrow in his brow. “Mr. Jacobs came to see me a little while ago. I’ve been informed you’re well acquainted with the family.”
I wouldn’t call it well acquainted, but that’s neither here nor there. I don’t think many people would understand the depths of distrust and hatred between the Wilders and the Jacobs. I swallow. Bowing my head, a grate catches my attention. The hole pattern matches the window I stood underneath. Well, at least I know where they met now. The not-so-private office of the dean.
“He’s made some serious claims against you. I want you to know that Saint Clary’s doesn’t allow bullying of any kind.” Dean Smith opens his hands. “I’m not going to pretend that I don’t know your situation, Dakota. Everyone who lives in Clary knows what happened to your dad, and I’m sure you’re struggling because of it, but bullying behavior is unacceptable.” He leans forward, hands on his knees. “Now, Mr. Jacobs says he’s been made aware of an incident that doesn’t hold you in the best light. He wasn’t specific but let me lend you some advice. If I were you, I’d make things right with him and his son. You’ve seen what it’s like to live your whole life in this town, and you have far greater potential than that, and not just because your last name is Wilder. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
I blink. My mind shorted out when he said Mr. Jacobs is aware of an incident that doesn’t put me in the best light. “Did he say what the incident was?”
Dean Smith rubs his forehead. “He didn’t come right out and say it, but he hinted that it had to do with your stepbrother, Stone.” Dean Smith straightens, giving me a small smile. “Mr. Jacobs is a generous, well-esteemed man. I am sure you can rectify this so no action will have to be taken.”
Well, this is just rich. Lance and Stone have everyone fooled, and this is all about money. Dean Smith doesn’t care that no evidence of this “incident” even exists, yet he warns me anyway. Just the thought that Jacobs might pull his funding from Saint Clary’s is enough for the dean to lecture me.
Honestly, I shouldn’t be surprised. This is just another power play. Another push to get me to see that siding with them is ultimately the best choice. I stand abruptly, and Dean Smith reels back, blinking. I hold out my hand. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention,” I say, a lump forming in my throat. “I’ll make sure to deal with it.”
After we shake hands, I start for the door, but Dean Smith’s voice pulls me up short. “And Dakota, I hope whatever incident Mr. Jacobs is referring to doesn’t get out. We know about the gossip that goes around Clary, don’t we? I think the Wilders have had their fair share. You don’t need another reason to have the town talking.”
I don’t even dignify his statement with an answer. Because, of course, why not send me off with one more warning?
Lance Jacobs must be a great businessman because he sure as hell knows how to play the blackmail game.
9
It isn’t until I get home from school that I remember where Stone told me to meet them. The Devil’s Hole. The place isn’t unknown to me even though I’ve never been there to party. It’s the typical high school hangout where all the cool kids get drunk and whatever else it is that they do at these things. Apparently, that’s moved to college now, too.
The good thing about telling them I’ll meet them later is that I get the rest of the day to myself. They act like I’m invisible. Wyatt doesn’t follow me in his truck at school’s end. They even leave with Meghan and a couple of other girls while I take to the sidewalk to walk the couple of blocks back to the dorms.
When I get there, my door is unlocked. That’ll be the first thing I fix as soon as I get money. I continue to rack my brain, trying to think of any way I can make a decent amount of cash without accepting Lance’s offer, but I know if I don’t, I’m fucked anyway. My reputation, what good of it there is, will be gone. College—everything—it’ll all be over.
I lie to myself about what I’m going to do when I get to Devil’s Hole tonight, but I already know. What a fitting place to surrender my pride. Devil’s Hole is rooted in Apache legend. They say the very hole to hell is there. It may seem inconspicuous. A slight depression of the earth surrounded by a circle of rocks, but it’s known in the area as a place to avoid. Through the years, stories emerged about terrible things that happened there, only strengthening the validity of the legend. The occurrences sound paranormal—like the majority of the tales that come out of the Superstitions—but mostly it’s just dumb teenagers getting drunk and doing stupid shit. They can blame it all they want on the devil coming out of that hole, but that’s not it at all. It’s immaturity and thinking you’re invincible.
The Apaches have their own ritual to keep the devil underground. Once a year, they hold a tribal meeting to secure the gate. Then, the teenagers move back in and open it right back up. The thing is, Devil’s Hole isn’t on Apache land, it’s on state land, and as far as the teenagers are concerned, it’s free rein, whether or not the Apaches are trying to save us.
I get ready for the party with a dead weight in my stomach. I know what I have to do. They’ve put me in a corner with no other way out. But I also wish I could find a different path. In fact, I wish my dad had never left that day. He’d know what to do.
Instead of doing my hair, I throw it up in a ponytail and make my way back over to the contract on my bed. My heart hurts just looking at it. I, in no way, want to hand over all of my ancestor’s hard-earned work. It’s not happening. I’ll have to think of something else.
I stand in front of the mirror, tugging on my shirt. It’s just shy of a crop top, flirting with the tops of my jean shorts. Since this will be my first time in Devil’s Hole, I should at least try to make it worthwhile. No one’s ever invited me to school parties before because I’m one half of the town crazies.
Not that I think I was actually invited to this party either. Not really. They only asked me, so I could give them a decision and they just happen to be going there tonight.
I’m still pulling my shirt on when I head into the living room. I start picking up the mess the guys made. I don’t have a lot of things, but what I do have is in the middle of the floor in tatters. I quickly gather everything up and throw it onto the coffee table. On my way to the couch, I spot a white envelope off to the side. I pick it up and stand. Shit. I’d forgotten the school secretary gave this to me.
I let myself fall backward onto the couch. A hint of cologne plumes around me. I breathe in deep, recognizing Wyatt’s scent. He smells like the earth after a rainstorm. All country, like a breath of fresh air. Despite being a douche, he smells good.
I run my finger under the flap of the envelope. I hadn’t noticed before but there’s no return address, only my name written in black ink. Boxy letters stare back at me as I pull out the sheet of paper inside.
My heart glitches for a second as I read the note. FIND THE TREASURE AND YOU FIND YOUR DAD.
Just that. Nothing else. It’s not signed. The note was written by hand, but by someone who painstakingly took the time to make the individual letters look generic. Each line of every letter is straight and squared off. There’s no personality. No discerning features. There’s nothing. Maybe that’s why my heart wrenches a little. The impersonal nature of it all.
Dozens of questions spill into my mind with a roar. Who would send me this? Is my dad alive? Do they know where he is?
Most of all, I wonder if someone from Jacobs’ team sent this. Another way to get me to fall in line. Dangle my father over my head. If that’s the case, their cruelty knows no bounds.
I carefully place the letter back into the envelope and retreat to my room. I open the closet door and move to my tiptoes to place the letter on the top shelf above where some of my more formal clothes hang. My cheeks flush with angry resolve. I’m even more determined than ever to figure out what the hell is going on and why now when the Jacobs have decided to drop into town.
I walk straight through my apartment, pulling the front door closed behind me and hoping no one decides they want to get into my place while I’m gone. Not that there’s anything worth stealing. Lance Jacobs confiscated my laptop, and I picked up a little, but it’s still a mess in there. That alone should deter any intruders. Textbooks are about the only thing of value I have. Other than that, it’s pretty sparse.
I turn to stare out over the walkway balcony, watching the sun slowly disappear behind the mountaintop while the orange blaze over the sky starts. A whistle sounds from behind me, the appreciative kind you hear in movies when construction workers are demeaning women. I turn my head to find Todd from history class. His eyebrows shoot up in his hair. “Whoa, Blue’s Clues. I didn’t know you lived here.”
I almost roll my eyes. I’ve only lived in the same building with him for a year now. Dumbass.
He looks me up and down. “You heading out to Devil’s Hole tonight?”
I nod, glancing at the keys in his hand. I really don’t want to walk all the way out there. “Can you give me a ride?” I ask.
He winks. “You read my mind.”
I follow Todd down the steps toward the parking lot situated to the east of the building. He opens the passenger side door of his truck for me, and I jump in. He walks in front, blowing his breath into his palms and then smelling it. Ugh, God. I wince. I hope he doesn’t think I’m going to kiss him for giving me a ride because that is so not happening. Is that the payment for rides nowadays? What happened to being a good person?
When he gets in, he shoots me a wide grin as if he thinks he was invisible and I never saw him check the smell of his breath. My own smile is tight, but he is giving me a ride, so I try to be as polite as possible.
He pulls out onto East Gulch Road. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you out at the Hole before, Blue’s Clues.”
I gaze over at him, disbelieving. “Really? You do know that name’s an insult, right?”
“What? Blue’s Clues?”
I nod, wondering how the hell this guy is even getting through his classes at Saint Clary’s. He’s a total moron.
“Yeah, but we’ve always called you that.” He shrugs like that’s enough of an explanation. Now, I’m not even going to feel bad if he tries to kiss me and I tell him to get fucked.
He jabbers on for the rest of the ride, not really talking about much of consequence until we turn off the highway and start down a dusty back road flanked by cacti and dirt. A quarter of a mile down the road, he pulls off and parks next to several other cars. When I glance behind us toward the road, I can’t even see it from here. Devil’s Hole is secluded, which is probably exactly why they like to party here.
I jump down from the truck and shut the door before Todd meets me in front of the car. We take a trail downward until smoke from a fire appears, wafting toward the night sky. Voices rise. Music plays. By the time we get there, it’s exactly like parties I’ve read about in bo
oks, but it’s being held in a place of legends. “I hope you’re not scared,” Todd teases.
I scoff. “Of fairy tales. Hell no.”
He looks at me appreciatively, but I glance away and look right into a solid chest. Lucas stands in front of me. His hair is going every which way, and he has a beer bottle hanging from his fingers. The bored look he usually carries is replaced by fire and a drunk-like haze. It’s obvious Lucas pre-gamed unless they’ve been here since school ended, which could very well be. I know nothing about partying at Devil’s Hole.
“Well, I’m here,” I say to Lucas, shrugging.
Todd looks at me. “You came here to meet him?”
“No,” I say at the same time Lucas says, “Yes.”
Todd sneers at me. “Used for a ride, and not the kind of ride I wanted.”
“Fuck off,” Lucas says. “Meghan’s around the corner. You’ve been sniffing around her, so have at it.”
Todd narrows his gaze. “You’re a dick, you know that?”
Lucas laughs at Todd’s attempt to get under his skin. I have a feeling not much does. When he’s out of earshot, Lucas nods toward a different trail and then starts down it. I walk behind him until he asks, “You ever been here before?”
I snort a laugh. “Yeah, right. I think the cat’s out of the bag. My family isn’t the most popular in Clary, so no, I don’t get invited to parties.”
Lucas glances over his shoulder. If I’m not mistaken, his lips are pulled down in a frown, but he quickly places them on his beer bottle and takes a few swallows.
It turns out, the trail we took just deposits us on the other side of Devil’s Hole. Big boulders dot the landscape, light from the fire playing off them. I gaze into the sky, almost smiling at how beautiful it is here. The locals say my mom hated it here, but if she did, my love for the place makes up for it. I’m not talking about the small town or the dead-end jobs, I’m talking about the scenery. The rustic, natural landscape. It’s almost otherworldly, as if I could transport myself into another place and time just by being here.