[Crush 01.0] Crush

by Lacey Weatherford

  “What are you up to?” I asked, a grin sweeping over my face.

  “Making your dreams come true.” He laughed. “Before you take your blindfold off here’s a toast to the future. Then you can see where you are.” He thrust a thin stemmed glass into my hand. “Drink up!”

  I lifted it to my lips and took a tiny sip before starting to giggle. “Is this fruit punch in a champagne flute?”

  “I know it’s your favorite, so come on, bottoms up. I have a glass of my own.” He clanked his against mine.

  I smiled and quickly downed the rest of the contents. “Okay, show me what you’ve got going on.”

  “All right. Let me put these glasses over here real quick, and then I’ll help you with the blindfold.”

  He was back in a few seconds, working at the knot behind my head. “Here you go!”

  I opened my eyes, but they blurred and it took a moment to adjust to the light. I gasped. “Are we in the old theater?”

  “Yeah, amazing isn’t it?” He smiled and slipped his arm around my waist.

  “Where did you find so many white Christmas lights this time of year?” It was like we’d stepped back in time—the old wallpaper had yellowed but was still beautiful, surrounded by thick sculpted moldings. The red covered seats were still in pristine condition, and so was the carpet. Every surface had small white lights strung across it. They were on the walls, over the backs of the chairs, and down the red velvet drapes that hung in front.

  “How’d you ever get Jon’s permission to use this place? I’ve never even seen him come in here. It’s so beautiful.”

  He ignored my question and pointed to the ceiling above the curtains. “The theater screen actually rolls down in front of the curtain there. Behind them is an actual stage. I guess they used to have a few family performances here as well. When I saw this, I knew I’d chosen the perfect place to bring you. It reminded me of Phantom of the Opera. I know how you love that play.”

  “It’s perfect!” I turned and gave him a big hug.

  He held me tightly for a few seconds, before suddenly releasing me. “Wait! There’s more!” He hurried over to the stage and disappeared behind the curtain.

  “What are you doing?” I asked unable to suppress my grin.

  “Just a second!”

  I heard a squeaking sound, and the drapes spread apart, revealing a large candelabrum with candles aflame on it. Fog began creeping out across the stage, and I laughed, clapping my hands together in delight.

  Clay stepped onto the stage with a grin and beckoned me. “I told you I’d be your Phantom come to life. Come sing for me, Camilla!”

  I shook my head as I walked up the aisle toward him, laughing. “Not on your life.”

  “Really?” He looked genuinely disappointed. “I brought karaoke and everything! I wanted this to be your big moment.”

  He took my hand and helped me up the steps.

  I hugged him again. “I can’t believe you went to all this work just for me. This is incredible!”

  His hand slid up to my neck, and he leaned back so he could look into my eyes tenderly. “I’m so glad you like it. I’d do anything for you. Anything.” He paused for a moment, glancing over my face before his mouth descended toward mine.

  He caught me completely off guard, and I shoved him away, causing him to stumble backward. “Stop it, Clay. Don’t ruin this . . . not now when things are finally starting to feel normal again between us.”

  “But I thought . . . I thought you liked it . . . I thought you could finally see.” He seemed utterly astonished.

  “See what? Why can’t you see? Why can’t you hear what I’m constantly telling you? I’m in love with Hunter.” My skin flushed as my temper rose.

  “No you aren’t! You don’t even know him. You and me,” he gestured between us, “we’ve been together for years! It’s meant to be. Why do you keep resisting it?”

  Tears started rolling down his panicked face.

  “I’m sorry to hurt you. But I don’t feel the same. You’re my best friend, Clay. That’s all there is.”

  “You have no idea the things I’ve done to have you, Cami. I wasn’t lying when I said I’d do anything. I’m tired of waiting for you. I won’t take no for an answer anymore.” His expression turned to something hard and determined, and suddenly I was scared.

  “What have you done?” I was honestly afraid to hear the answer.

  “I removed the competition.”

  I stepped away nervously as he stalked forward. “What did you do to Hunter?” I asked, dread shooting through me.

  “Hunter?” He seemed confused for a moment. “Nothing to him. He should be happily wrapped up in Gabby’s arms by now doing what the two of them do best—screwing people.”

  “Gabby’s involved in this?” I was grasping at straws, trying to keep him talking while I made my way backward across the stage. Hunter had been right all along. Clay was off—he . . . was crazy. I didn’t know how I’d missed it.

  “She saw me slipping something into Jordan’s drink the night he died. She’s been blackmailing me for a while now. I told her I’d help her get Hunter if she’d help me get you. We compromised.”

  A cry bubbled up from inside me as I realized what he was saying. He’d killed Jordan.

  “Do you see now how important you are?” He reached for me again.

  “Stay away!” I shouted, shoving him roughly and sending him sprawling. I turned with a sob and fled off the stage toward the main door of the private theater, clutching the knob. I had to get out of here, but it was locked tightly, and wouldn’t budge.

  “Someone help me!” I screamed, pounding against the thick, old, wooden panels so hard I thought I might break my hand. “Please! Help!” A sudden wave of light-headedness overcame me.

  “Not so fast, Cami,” Clay growled, seizing me, and we both fell onto the plush carpet with him sprawled on top of me.

  I pushed at him frantically, trying to squirm my way out of his hold, but he grabbed my hands and pinned them to the side. “Well, this is convenient, isn’t it?”

  “What do you mean?” I couldn’t help the tremble in my voice, nausea suddenly overwhelming.

  A wicked gleam appeared in his eyes. “I mean you should stop fighting me. I made sure I had a little insurance policy in place. There’s no way you’re escaping me tonight.”

  My vision suddenly tipped and swam, and I had to blink several times to see him clearly. “You slipped something into my drink, didn’t you?” Hysteria welled up inside, and my mouth went dry. “Are you going to kill me too?”

  He looked appalled. “What? No! I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

  “But you are hurting me.” I struggled to break free of his hold, but felt myself growing weaker. “Don’t you understand that?”

  “No, I’m helping you. I’m going to show you how good we can be together. I finally realized if you could just see . . . if you could understand the depth of my feelings for you . . . then you’d want me as badly as I want you.” He almost sounded sweet, like he truly believed everything he was doing was for the best.

  The room tipped again, my strength seeping farther from me. Tears leaked from my eyes as I tried to keep focused. “And you’re gonna do that how, Clay? By forcing me? That isn’t going to endear you to me at all.”

  “Relax, Cami.” He lowered his mouth to my neck, brushing a kiss near my ear. “I’ll be gentle,” he crooned. “I promise. It’ll be so good.”

  “Get off me!” In a burst of last-ditch energy, I swiftly lifted my knee, hitting him with all the force I could muster—hard. He groaned in agony and rolled off me to his side, clutching his privates.

  I climbed to my feet, leaning against the wall for support. Strings of hanging lights swung wildly about, some falling as I grabbed at them in a desperate attempt to stay upright. I stumbled toward the door before remembering he had the keys on him, so I weaved my way back and began digging in his pockets. Everything was swimming, and I could b
arely focus, but I felt the cold metal touch my skin and I clasped it, dragging them from him as he lunged for me again. I managed to escape his grasp, and I staggered back to the door, trying desperately to stop my hands from shaking long enough to slide the keys into the lock.

  The first two didn’t work, but the third one did. I felt like I was going to vomit as I turned the knob, but before I could exit, Clay tackled me again and I went flying, hitting my head hard on the floor. It was over. I knew I’d lost. I was too drugged to attempt another escape now.

  “Please don’t, Clay.” I was crying uncontrollably, desperate to reach him somehow. “If you ever loved me at all, please don’t do this. I’ll make sure you get some help.” My lips trembled violently as I tried to form the words.

  “I don’t need help. I need you,” he said brusquely. His mouth descended to mine, and I turned my head sideways trying to avoid him, but there was nowhere to go. I was pinned beneath the length of his body. He grabbed my chin roughly and turned it back, pressing his mouth violently against my lips. His other hand slid down my thigh, bunching my dress as he pulled it up between us.

  “Stop!” I begged, tasting my own tears as I tried again to push him away. “Stop!”

  He squeezed my leg before propping up to undo the buckle on his belt.

  I tried to take advantage of the situation, attempting to roll over and crawl away from him.

  “Oh no you don’t!” he snarled, flipping me back and repositioning himself over me. I heard my clothing rip, and I started flailing against his chest with my fists.

  The heaviness in my limbs was sapping my strength, but I couldn’t stop fighting. I couldn’t let him do this. I screamed loudly, the terrified sound of my voice echoing off the walls of the room.

  Clay flinched, but didn’t stop.

  I gave into sobs. “Please,” I begged him. “Please don’t do this. Don’t do this, don’t do this, don’t do this . . .” I repeated over and over again trying to block out the sensation as his hand slid up my leg.

  There was a loud clicking sound, and Clay suddenly froze. I looked up to see the barrel of a gun pointed at his head . . . a gun held by Hunter.

  “Get up, Bradley,” Hunter said in a menacing voice, and a strangled cry escaped my lips at the sight of him. Relief poured through every part of my being. Hunter was here. Hunter was here. I couldn’t stop my hysterical tears.

  Clay slowly got up, lifting his hands into the air, his pants hanging loosely at his waist. “Don’t shoot. I’ll do whatever you say. You can put the gun down. You and I are totally cool.”

  “We’re not anywhere close to cool right now,” Hunter said, his features dark and mottled with rage. “Cami, are you okay?” he asked without taking his eyes off Clay.

  “I will be,” I tried to say between sobs.

  His jaw clenched, flexing hard. “Did he . . . was he . . .”

  I knew what he was trying to ask. “No. He didn’t . . . thanks to you.” I swallowed thickly, my tongue feeling dry and swollen. “He drugged me with something, though. I feel really sick.”

  “Did you give her meth?” Hunter demanded, glancing at me for one second with terrified concern.

  Clay dove toward the gun, knocking it free from Hunter’s grasp as they both fell. It slid down the sloping aisle toward me. Both of them scrambled for it as I sat helplessly watching, but Clay was closer and grabbed it first. Everything suddenly seemed to move at incredibly slow speed as he swung around toward Hunter, lifted the gun, pointed, and fired.

  “Nooooo!” I screamed as Hunter grunted loudly, falling beside me, blood immediately spreading across his shirt in a dark, wet, stain.

  Clay laughed, a wild look in his eyes as he approached closer, still directing the gun at Hunter. “How quick do you want to die? I’ll let you decide where I put the next bullet.”

  “Don’t, Clay! Please don’t kill him!” I sobbed. Rolling over, I tried to protect his body with my own—my hands trying to cover the place where he was hemorrhaging.

  “Get out of the way, Cami,” Hunter said, trying to push me, but I clutched onto him.

  “No,” I whispered, hoarsely, collapsing against his chest.

  All of a sudden the world was exploding around me, and I flinched as several shots of gunfire rang through the air. I couldn’t make sense of what was happening as hands grabbed me around the waist, dragging me off of Hunter.

  “No!” I screamed, fighting until a familiar voice echoed through my hysteria.

  “Cami, it’s okay. It’s me, Chris. Are you shot?”

  I shook my head. “Help Hunter,” I begged, trembling as he laid me back on the floor. That was when I saw Clay, obviously dead in a pool of spreading blood—Hunter’s gun lying several feet away. I turned, unable to stand looking at him.

  “Code 999, code 999!” Chris yelled into his radio as he grabbed Hunter’s gun before turning to shout out the door. “The scene is clear, and I need a medic! I have an officer down!”

  An officer? What officer? I glanced around the room, looking for another victim before turning to Hunter, who was still bleeding heavily beside me. I tried to lift my hand to put pressure back on the wound, but I could barely move.

  “Cami,” he choked out as Chris knelt beside us and quickly tore off a part of my dress, holding it over the bullet hole in Hunter’s chest.

  “Hang in there, Dylan,” Chris said, his face a mask of worry. “Don’t you even think of dying or your sister will kill me. I promised her I wouldn’t let you get hurt.”

  “Dylan?” I questioned, their faces both blurring as I glanced between them.

  “My real name,” Hunter wheezed. “I couldn’t tell you. I wanted to, but it would’ve blown the investigation.” Little bits of blood came out of his mouth.

  “You’re a cop?” I whispered, trying to fight the blackness swimming at the edges of my consciousness.

  He nodded slightly, grimacing.

  “So, it was all a lie . . .” I couldn’t hang on any longer. I let the darkness envelope me.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Cami-

  He was buried a week later. Sadly, there were not many people in attendance besides his family, my parents, and me. I didn’t cry—I couldn’t. I was still in shock over everything. I couldn’t seem to make the pieces fit together in my mind. I kept trying to figure out the moment when my best friend had turned into a monster.

  His parents felt horrible—said they had no idea he’d become so deluded. They thought we were dating from the things he’d told and shown them—everything from fake letters and emails, to pictures he’d photo shopped of the two of us together. He’d been living a totally phony relationship with me in his own head. The police profiler told me Clay was delusional—he really believed us to be a couple—and none of this was my fault. But he was dead now. That felt like my fault.

  I’d woken up in the hospital attached to I.V.’s, which had been used to help flush the strong date rape drug Clay had given me from my system. Hunter was the first person I asked for. They said he’d been flown by helicopter to a larger facility, but no one would tell me how he was doing. I tried calling his cell phone, but it said the number had been disconnected.

  Chris came to the hospital when he heard I’d awakened. He asked me a lot of questions about what had happened with Clay that night. I kept waiting for him to tell me something about Hunter, but he never did. I finally asked him.

  “I can’t discuss Hunter with you, Cami, since this is part of an ongoing investigation.” He looked really sad. “But I promise you’ll get answers as soon as possible. You’re going to have to trust me, okay?”

  I snorted. Trust. Who knew what that word meant anymore?

  “Can you tell me if he’s alive, at least? He did get shot trying to protect me after all.”

  “He’s alive.”

  Relief washed through me.

  “Is he going to be okay?” I had to know.

  He stood and went toward the door. “He was listed in
critical condition the last I heard. I’m on my way to see him now. Is there anything you want me to tell him?”

  A million things raced through my mind, I love you being first and foremost. “Tell him I . . .” Confusion raced through my heart, making me second-guess everything. What if he didn’t really feel the same? What if it was just an act? He’d pulled away from me so many times. He had to be several years older than me. Could he really be in love with a teenager? “Tell him thanks.”

  “Is that all?” Chris asked, his eyes full of concern.

  “Are you really his uncle?” I wanted to hear the truth about something from someone for a change.

  He shook his head. “No. I’m actually his brother-in-law. At least I am until his sister gets ahold of me. She’s gonna have my head for allowing him to get hurt.” He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “The whole family is in quite an uproar over everything.”

  “I’m sorry he got put in danger because of me.” The tears began leaking from my eyes without my permission, and I tried to rapidly blink them away. I felt like I was barely clinging on to my sanity by a thread.

  Chris came over and grabbed my hand, squeezing it. “None of this is your fault, Cami. Hang in there, okay? I’ll see to it you have the answers as soon as I’m able.”

  He walked out the door, and that was the last I heard from anyone. The next Monday at school a dozen kids were arrested in a giant drug sting. I knew Hunter had to be alive then. Someone had given them names.

  Yet, still I heard nothing from him.

  I walked into my room when I got home and threw myself on the bed, desperate to escape all the stares and whispers that followed me the whole day.

  “Can I get you anything, Cami?” my mom asked, coming to check on me. She’d hardly left my side, coming home from work early so I was never home alone.

  “No thanks, Mom. I just want to take a nap.” I was doing a lot of sleeping lately. It was sometimes the only relief I had—when the nightmares didn’t get me.

  “All right.” She gave me a concerned look. “I’m here if you need me.”

  “Thanks,” I said as she closed the door behind her, and I rolled over to face the wall, finally allowing myself to shed tears—over everything. I couldn’t wrap my head around it all. I was hurt—sad—angry with Clay. He’d been my best friend my whole life! How could he betray me in the worst way possible? He’d destroyed everything good I could remember about him in just a few moments . . . a lifetime worth of happy memories forever tainted with the stain of his final acts. But despite the trauma he’d put me through, he wasn’t the reason I woke up gasping for breath in the middle of the night.