“I will not come with you.” This time, Sophie did not have to force her voice to be firm; it came out strong on its own.
“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice,” Michael told her as Justin proceeded to circle behind Sophie.
She bristled at his words, hating how final they sounded. She always had a choice.
Without warning, she reached behind her and grabbed Justin, throwing him over her shoulder and into Michael, knocking both of them down into nearby dancers. As the dancers screamed, Sophie ran.
“Sophie!” she heard someone shout. “Sophie!”
She tried to focus on where the sound was coming from and finally found Brielle. The brunette was out of breath as she practically tumbled into Sophie. “Are you all right?”
“Brie?” Sophie asked, grateful to see a familiar face in this chaos. “Oh, thank God.”
“Look, we have to get out of here. I can’t really explain, but they’re after you—”
“No one’s going anywhere,” a familiar voice announced from behind Sophie. A shiver slid down her back.
The red head caught movement from in front of her and someone, a girl no more than Sophie’s age, emerged from the crowd. There was something about this girl. “I know you,” she said, more to herself.
“That’s great.” Apparently, the stranger heard her. And then Sophie realized who it was: Kat, Brielle’s friend from Aqua. “I’m glad you noticed me from way up on your pedestal.”
“What?”
“Kat?” Brielle asked in obvious surprise, claiming Kat’s attention. “Why are you here? Why are you doing this?”
“Why am I doing this?” Kat asked in disbelief. “Why am I doing this? If anyone should understand, Brie, it’d be you. I just want to be noticed for once in my life. My real parents—my dad, I should say, since I have no idea where my mom is—barely even looks at me. I don’t go home for the holidays and only go home during the summer because I have to. When I am home, my dad barely acknowledges my presence. He has two other kids, see, two other normal kids with his bimbo step-wife who calls me Katherine no matter how many times I tell her my name is really Kat.
“You want to know why I’m doing this?” she repeated once more as she took a step toward Brielle. “Because I matter. I may not be normal, but that doesn’t mean I’m some kind of leper. Once we have Sophie, we’ll be the most powerful group of peculiars, even though there are only four of us. We’re going to force people to notice us. Not only the panpi, but the peculiars. They’re going to be sorry for not noticing. They’ll be sorry.”
“What about me, Kat?” Brielle asked in a soft voice. Sophie decided to take advantage of the fact that Kat’s entire attention was on Brielle and slowly started to creep behind her. Now that she knew the general plan these goons wanted to accomplish, she and Brielle had to get out of that nightclub, and the only way to do that was to somehow get Kat away from them long enough for them to escape. “We’re friends, aren’t we? I noticed you.”
“See, that’s the most ironic part of the whole ordeal,” Kat said, fixing those eyes on Brielle. Sophie wondered if Kat regretted what she had done, knowing it severed her friendship with Brielle. “I was told to befriend you in order to get information about her,”—she indicated Sophie but didn’t seem to recognize what the red head was planning to do, “and you told me everything I needed to know. I like you, Brie. I think we could have been really great friends if we weren’t on separate sides of the issue. But you didn’t notice me, not until I talked to you. You’re so wrapped up in your shell feeling sorry for your lack of friends that you don’t even realize it takes effort on your part too.”
Without warning, Sophie reached out and tossed Kat into the crowd of dancing people, causing a few startled girls to scream.
“We have to go while the club is in chaos,” Sophie said, grabbing Brielle’s wrist and preparing to head out of the club.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Brielle said, pulling back. “What about Jane? What about Elle? We can’t just leave without them.”
Sophie dropped Brielle wrist, knowing the brunette was right. Her eyes shifted around the room, thinking of a plan.
“You go, Sophie,” Brielle murmured, interrupting Sophie’s thoughts. “I’ll stay here and look for the others.”
“But what about—”
“They’re after you, not me,” Brielle insisted. “Go. It shouldn’t take long if they’re in the building. I can try to trace their thoughts using my mind. Go.”
“Actually, she won’t be leaving, but how very gallant of you, Brie.” Michael and his crony were back, and neither looked disheveled whatsoever, which startled Sophie since she had thrown them into each other like a line of dominoes.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” he exclaimed to the crowd while his partner headed over to the deejay, probably to persuade him to stop the music. “I’m afraid that Ultra will be closing now. Leave immediately.” No one responded to Michael’s announcement. Instead, they simply stared at him and grumbled about the lack of music. Sophie watched as Michael sighed, shrugged his shoulders, and headed over to the bar. He climbed on top of it, causing people to start complaining since he wasn’t paying attention to where the drinks were set. Before anybody could stop him, Michael reached down and grabbed a random male patron before throwing him hard into the crowd. “I said get the fuck out!” he screamed.
This elicited much more yelling and as people scrambled out of the doors, Michael hopped off the bar rather gracefully and headed back over to Sophie and Brielle. Justin was right behind him.
“I’m not leaving,” Brielle said firmly from Sophie’s side.
“Kat?” Justin found Kat’s body on the floor, kneeling over it. Brielle’s heart stopped at the sight. Kat didn’t appear to be breathing and there was a good chance that she got trampled as everyone hurried to leave. “Kat?”
“We wouldn’t want you to leave, Brie,” Michael said. “I wanted to thank you, personally, for all your helpful information you told Kat about Sophie. How you confirmed what she is. How you came to meet me, thinking I was her father.”
“I didn’t—” Brielle said, knitting her brow together. Sophie watched as tears accumulated in her eyes. “I didn’t mean—”
“Of course not,” Michael said.
“Kat?” Justin said again.
Michael turned to his crony and said, “Justin, shut up! She’s served her purpose. We’re not finished here.” His blue eyes once again found Brielle. “You’re going to stay. It’s the only way I can get her,” his eyes looked over at Sophie, staring at her as though he could see right through her, “to cooperate with us.”
“I think she’s dead,” Justin went on.
Michael ignored him. “But that doesn’t mean you have to be conscious,” he continued. He nodded at someone behind her, someone Sophie hadn’t even noticed, and something hard hit the side of her head. Brielle crumpled to the floor.
Before Sophie could turn and see who it was that had knocked Brielle unconscious, Justin strode over to the red head, reached out, and gripped her neck with his fingers as he lifted her off the ground. He started shouting at her, but Sophie couldn’t register what he was saying. She was struggling to breathe.
36
She was still numb when she left Cillian’s apartment, but this time, there was a new soreness between her thighs. Each step only pressed against the pain, reminding her of what had happened that she couldn’t stop. Everything was a blur to her, and she hadn’t drunk one drop of alcohol. She was still in her right mind as he proceeded to take off her clothes. Jane knew she had said no at least three times, but he kept pushing her and pushing her. And as he took something that could only be given, she just laid there, staring up at the ceiling, waiting for it to be over.
How could she have not even fought back? Jane was certain that if she had ever been in this position, she would fight. But she hadn’t even moved. She didn’t allow herself to feel. It hadn’t even hurt, really.
Did
it even count? She had told him no, but she had also followed him into his apartment willingly. She let him take off her clothes and touch her, but it was only when he wanted to finish the deal did she finally speak up. While he did pressure her, he hadn’t threatened her by any means nor had he held a weapon against her. There was no screaming, no noises except his grunts. And she just let it happen, completely numb, unaware of what was really happening.
When he finished, he rolled off of her, apparently spent. She sat up and started to dress. He didn’t try and stop her. He let her leave without offering to walk her back to the club.
Not even the bitter cold night could wake her up and make her realize what happened to her. Her mind knew, of course, still questioning, analyzing, passing judgment, but her body had yet to feel it, save for the ache that only increased with each step she took. She wasn’t crying. She felt no shame. Even though it was pitch black and she was by herself in a short dress and heels, she wasn’t afraid that something bad might happen to her. As of right now, her mind and body were severed, as though she was on the outside looking into her world.
Jane reached the nightclub without incident, but she was suddenly aware that something was off. There was no one in line outside, no bouncers checking ids and hand-stamping designated drivers. In fact, there were no bouncers outside at all. She continued to walk forward, not feeling the pain anymore as worry creased her brow. The closer she got, the more she realized she couldn’t hear the thumping music, couldn’t hear talking and cheering. If anything, she could hear glasses shattering and things being thrown. Something was wrong, horribly wrong.
Where were her friends? Had they gotten out okay or were they still inside? Her hand went to her side, but instead of coming in contact with her bag like she thought it would, it touched her waist.
Hands gripping her waist, pushing himself in and out, over and over—
Jane blinked, shaking her head in hopes to rid herself of something she desperately did not want to remember.
What should she do? Logically, she knew she should find someone with a cell phone and call the police. Then she should wait until they arrived. She shouldn’t go in because she didn’t know what was in there and would probably get hurt.
But her friends … She had to make sure they had gotten out. Jane might not have fought for herself tonight, but there was no way in hell she would allow her friends to get hurt while she waited safely outside.
She slid off her heels, deciding to leave them outside. If she was barefoot, they wouldn’t be able to hear her approach. When she was ready, she proceeded to head into the club.
It was dark. Darker than usual. She pressed her body against the long black wall that led to the dance floor. It took a moment before her eyes acclimated to the room, but once they did, she tried to make out what was happening. Glass shards littered the floor, reminding Jane that she was barefoot and would have to make a conscious effort to avoid stepping on them.
When she reached the floor, she tilted her head to chance a glance at what was happening. She gasped in response to the sight. A few feet away from her was the crumpled body of Brielle, a noticeable gash on her forehead, blood already crusting over. A man with curly hair was holding Sophie by the neck while a second man with light eyes – she couldn’t decipher the color – talked to him. Then she watched as he reached out and squeezed the curly-haired man’s arms, causing him to scream and finally release Sophie. Had the man just broken Curly Hair’s arm simply by squeezing it?
However, now Sophie’s rescuer knelt down over Sophie’s body as she tried to catch her breath. He might have saved her life, but he had no intention of letting her go, seeing as how he coiled his fingers around her wrist.
His hands curled around her shoulder while the other rested by her head, keeping her still, keeping himself up as he continued his onslaught—
“Get a grip, Cabot,” she whispered to herself. “You have a job to do.”
She knew she had to save her friends, but she had to think of a plan first, and fast. Brielle needed a doctor, Sophie looked like she was going to be snatched up by one of these men, and Elle—
Wait a minute—where is Elle?
Jane’s eyes scanned the room, but she couldn’t find her friend anywhere. It gave her hope that perhaps Elle had somehow gotten away, and as such, decided to turn her attention to her friends that needed her. She had to hear what he was saying to Sophie. But how?
Duh, Jane, you’re a mental. Read his mind!
Pressing her lips together, Jane closed her eyes, cleared her mind, and let it wander. The moment she touched his mind with her own, he snapped up, his eyes perusing the room.
“Someone else is here,” he announced. “An animus. Someone tried to read my mind.”
Jane pressed her back flat against the wall, her heart pounding rapidly against her chest. How could he possibly know she was trying to read his mind unless he was some kind of mental? But if he was, why would he be attacking Sophie?
At that moment, Jane was grabbed by the curly-haired guy with the broken arm and thrust into the room. “It’s her, Michael,” he announced, his voice laced with pain.
Michael was apparently in charge of whatever this was. Jane wanted nothing more than to look away from him as he left Sophie’s side in order to get closer to Jane. As her heart beat sped up, she could feel the room turn to static.
She needed a plan, and she needed it fast.
“You better back off,” Jane said, trying to keep her eyes on both men in front of her while attempting to figure out what to do. She knew she could move something with her mind, but it had to be big enough to knock the two men incapacitated while leaving herself, Brielle, and Sophie unharmed. There had to be something in this mess that would work.
“Oh really?” the one called Michael asked, raising his brow as though to humor her. She could hear tinkling come from above her. “And why should we do that?”
Jane looked up and her eyes latched onto the chandelier. Her lips curled up, and after double-checking to make sure Sophie and Brielle weren’t in the way, looked back at Michael.
Somehow, he knew what was about to happen. His eyes got wide and he murmured, “That’s not possible” as the chandelier fell from the ceiling and on both he and his curly-haired henchman.
And then, Jane’s world went black.
37
Sophie wasn’t sure what to do first though. The need to breathe made a compelling argument. She had three options: check on Brielle, check on Jane, or make sure that both Justin and Michael were really dead. She took a tentative step forward, just as the chandelier started to shake and was suddenly lifted above the two bodies it had seemingly crushed before being thrown carelessly to the bar, tiny glass shards flying everywhere.
With a dropped jaw, she watched as Michael struggled until he finally stood. His eyes latched onto Jane for a long time. To Sophie, it looked as though he was thinking about something. When he seemed to have finished his thought, he turned to Sophie.
“Quite a show you put on,” he said in a strained voice. “But you can’t get rid of me so easily. I’ll come back for you. Your friend too.” His eyes shifted back to Jane, the soft blue replaced with a freezing ice. He reached down, picked up Justin’s body and left.
Should she have stopped him? Should she go after him? Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t. Her feet were paralyzed. Her hands were shaking, and even when she clamped them together in order to stop them, they continued.
She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, trying to do something but unable to actually do so. It was only when Will walked into the club—Will, who she thought had left without even saying goodbye—that her feet took off in his direction and nothing else mattered as much as being in his arms. Those arms welcomed her, and she didn’t care that she was crying into his wife beater or that she was shaking because she was still scared. All she wanted was Will, was to feel safe again. He wasn’t much taller than she was, but the few inches he did have on
her allowed him to tilt his head down, murmur things she couldn’t hear over her sobbing in her hair.
Off in the distance, she heard a door open. Immediately Will pushed Sophie behind him, prepared to fight if he needed to. It was only Elle, however, and when Sophie saw her, she didn’t hesitate to run around Will in order to hug the blonde.
“Where are they?” Will asked, keeping an eye on Aiden as the owner took in his demolished nightclub, dazed.
“Gone,” she croaked, her throat still sore from Justin’s grip. He had lunged at her despite Michael’s protest after he found out that she had inadvertently killed someone. She had killed someone. For real, this time. Kat’s body was still over there. But she couldn’t dwell on that. Not yet. “He said he’d be back, though. For me and Jane.”
She watched as Will locked his jaw and then turned his eyes so they swept the club with his gaze. “Speaking of which, we have to go now and get Jane and …” Will’s eyes found Brielle, but apparently he had no idea who she was. “Can you get her, Soph?”
Sophie nodded, untangling herself from Elle’s arms and walking over to the Brielle.
“Now, wait a minute,” Aiden said as though he had reclaimed his senses. “Is anybody going to tell me what the fuck happened to my club?”
Sophie easily picked up Brielle, her eyes finding Elle as the blonde said, “Maybe one day,” and then proceeded to kiss him on the cheek. It was like a chemical reaction; the instant her lips came in contact with his skin, his face lit up, as though Elle had set fire on his face.
“Don’t worry about your bar,” Will said, Jane in his arms. “I’ll take care of it. Just get the necessary paperwork and someone will come down and pay for it.”
“Trust him,” Elle added, squeezing his hand.
“Let’s go,” Will said and proceeded to lead the two out of the club and to the waiting golf cart parked out front.
“I thought you left,” Sophie said as she slid into the passenger seat while Elle got in the back, keeping an eye on Jane. “Did you stop at the school before coming here? How did you know we needed you anyway?”
The Stranger Trilogy Box Set Page 24