by Tasha Fawkes
She was right, wasn't she? After all, this was what I wanted. Since when did success taste so stale?
Seventeen
Brin
The SUV rumbled through the city, tinted windows leaving the backseat shadowed and cool. My two captors were speaking softly to each other in the front seat. I clutched my backpack to my chest and hoped like hell they were driving me to the airport like they said they were. I didn't know why they would lie, considering I was powerless in this situation, but I didn't trust them.
"Excited to go back home?" Blondie asked, craning his neck to look back at me. Baldie was driving, eyes on the road. I wished they both would forget I existed until we got to the airport.
I didn't dignify the question with a response. Blondie gave up waiting after a second and shrugged, then turned back to front. Considering the hellish night I'd had, I wasn't feeling very chatty. It's hard to fall asleep when you're worried that at any moment one of the two brutes holding you captive might change his mind about not touching you. Whoever hired them had apparently told them not to hurt me but, as I said, I didn't trust them.
Who hired them, anyway? It couldn't have been Chad. He would never do something like this; he was too good. Martin? It didn't make any sense for Martin to want me gone. He was kind to me and genuinely seemed to like me, and I'd never done anything to him. But why would he give me that address if he wasn't a part of the plot? I wanted to believe that he'd been merely a pawn in this whole thing and that he'd unknowingly had his strings pulled by a separate entity, but then I remembered how odd he'd been acting the last time I saw him. It made sense why now.
It was hard to feel anything under the numbing blanket of fear, but my fury bubbled up from time to time. Who was Martin to say who Chad dated? Why the hell did it matter to him? Did he know that we weren't even really dating, or was he ousting me because he thought I was a distraction? The not knowing was one of the worst parts of the whole thing. I doubted I would ever get any sort of answer, but I hoped all the same.
I started seeing signs for the airport, and I allowed myself to relax a little. In a matter of hours, I was going to be home, and I was going to find out what the hell had happened to me and make sure Chad knew that his friend was a literal piece of shit.
"Here we are, miss," said Baldie mockingly. "Hang tight while I come around to help with your luggage."
Hang tight. Like the doors weren't child locked.
Blondie opened the door for me a minute later, and his companion stood a couple feet away with my suitcase. I stepped out, swinging my backpack onto my back and glaring sourly at them.
"Your flight leaves in a little over an hour." Blondie passed me a ticket, one way to Las Vegas. I snatched it out of his hand and grabbed the handle of my suitcase.
"Oh," he continued, "And before I forget..." Blondie put up a finger to stop me while he searched his pants pockets, producing my phone a moment later.
I didn't think I was ever going to get my phone back. I held it to my chest tightly. Maybe I wouldn't be getting on a flight at all. Maybe I could call Chad once I got inside the airport, and he'd rush out to get me.
Blondie grinned as if hearing my thoughts. "Here's the thing, princess, you get your phone back, but don't contact Chad ever again. I've already blocked his number on your phone, but if he tries to contact you another way you are to ignore him. If you don't follow these instructions, then things could get very messy for you and your little friend Kimberley. Understand?"
My heart dropped into my stomach with an almost audible splash. How did they know about Kim? How much did they know about me? The realization that I was in way over my head settled in like knives against my ribs.
"Understand?" prompted Baldie when I still hadn't answered.
The horror and shock did wonders to dry up my vocal chords. When I opened my mouth to answer, I half expected just to wheeze out a cloud of dust.
"I understand."
"Good."
They both looked very pleased with themselves, giving me a hearty salute before getting back into the SUV and peeling out of parking spot. That left me in front of Honolulu airport, hand squeezed so tight around my phone that it was a wonder the screen didn't crack. I just wanted to crawl into a hole and die.
For the first time in a long time, control had been ripped from my grasp and replaced with terror.
Just like that, I was a scared little girl again, hiding in the hall closet and hoping that my uncle would be too drunk to keep looking for me. Martin's actions were unforgivable. Even if his motivation was somehow pure as freshly fallen snow, I hated him for bringing me back here, for wresting the control I'd worked so hard to gain out of my hands and shoving me off back to Las Vegas. I headed for the airport with long, angry strides. I could practically feel Vegas calling for me, telling me that it would always be there for me when I needed. She'd saved me once, and she would do it again.
The flight was long. It felt longer than it was just because I wrestled between being too angry to even think, to being so sad that I had to pull myself out of the swamp of my depressing thoughts. I hated Martin. I missed Chad. Sometimes I hated them both. Martin for the blatant act of betrayal and treating me like I wasn't even human, Chad for making it all hurt so much. It wasn't Chad's fault that I'd fallen for him, but it was easier to hate him than it was to miss him. The realization that I would never see him again, outside of his YouTube channel, didn't just sting—it seared through me. I'd known that this thing between us wouldn't work out of Hawaii, but I guess I'd held out hope that we'd make it through somehow. That was all gone. He'd been torn from me in one fell swoop, and now I just had to stumble back into my old life, taunted by painful memories of things that could never, ever be.
I told Kim that I was on my way home and that I'd explain everything when I got there but was surprised to see her smiling face at the airport all the same. I didn't tell her what flight I was even on. She must've done some serious detective work to piece it out, and who knows how long she'd been waiting here. That was my best friend. God, I'd missed her.
"Hey superstar," Kim greeted, pulling me into a tight hug.
For the first time since this nightmare began yesterday, tears threatened to bust out of my ducts in a big way. I fought them back and inhaled deep, focusing on the creamy coconut smell of her hair.
When she pulled back from the hug, Kim reached into her purse and pulled out a bottle of beer. She uncapped it and handed it over.
"I figured you might need one. Sorry if it's a little warm."
I chugged the beer back. It was a little warm, but that was a-okay with me. At this point, I'd take anything that would dull the ache a little.
"Let's get you in a cab. I figured we could order pizza tonight and I snuck a box of wine into your fridge."
I took another chug of beer as she led me out to the cab line up. Pizza and wine. That was how we always dealt with breakups. Sometimes we'd watch action movies and pretend the hero was punching whoever hurt us instead of the goons on screen. Sometimes we'd watch Jane Austen adaptations and throw pepperoni at the TV. Our pizza and wine nights always made me feel better. Always. Somehow I didn't think this one was going to make the cut, but I loved Kim for trying.
It was dark outside, or as dark as anything ever got in Las Vegas. I caught a glimpse of the not-so-distant strip as the cab drove toward the more residential part of town, and the glittering lights welcomed me home. I closed my eyes and pretended I was anywhere else.
Kim grabbed my suitcase once we reached my building and hauled it up the front steps for me. Inside, she rolled it all the way into my room while I settled onto the couch, then returned a couple minutes later with two generous glasses of wine. Kim had no idea what had happened yet, but she knew it wasn't good. I was almost afraid to tell her the truth, like Baldie and Blondie would pop out from behind my TV set the second I did to make things "messy", but there was no way I'd survive keeping the last twenty-four hours to myself.
"T
hank you," I said to Kim, accepting the glass of wine.
She sat down beside me. "Not that I'm not thrilled to have you home much earlier than expected, but weren't you supposed to be sunning yourself on a beach for another two weeks?"
I took a large gulp of wine and nodded. Then I took another gulp. And another. After the third, I told Kimberley everything.
By the time I was finished, I was half-drunk, crying, and curled up across Kim's lap. She stroked my hair the whole time, listening and nodding but never commenting. Only once I was finished did she speak.
"Don't you think you should call the police?" she asked.
"And tell them what? I don't have any way to prove that it was Martin. I don't have any way to prove anything. The ticket was probably paid for in cash, and that's the only evidence that any of this shit happened besides my word. Anyway, I'm not risking it. As long as I stay away from Chad, I get to forget that all of this ever happened and you get to stay safe." I looked up at her with pleading eyes, hoping she would understand. "I can't do anything to risk something happening to you. I won't. Going to the police would probably be the right thing to do, but for me, the right thing is keeping my head down so you don't get hurt."
Kim pushed the hair back from my forehead with a troubled expression. "But what they did to you..."
I shook my head. "They didn't do anything. They babysat me overnight and sent me on my merry way. I would rather forget all of this ever happened."
"If that's what you want, love," she replied. "You know I'll support you no matter what."
"Thanks, Kim." I dropped my head down to her lap and let out a great sigh. "I miss him already. Is that crazy?"
"No, that's not crazy."
"I always knew it was going to end like this. Well," I chuckled, "Not quite like this. But at least with us going our separate ways. I didn't expect it to hurt so fucking much though."
"I should have never encouraged you to go. I'm so sorry." She smoothed a hand over my cheek. "I thought it was going to be relaxing."
We looked at each other, then burst into laughter. Hindsight was a bitch.
"I'll order us some pizza," she said, scooting me off her lap and onto the couch. "Extra pepperoni."
"Great," I said. "I'll pick something to watch."
Kim returned a second later with her phone and one of the take-out menus from the drawer while I scrolled through Netflix's offerings. I didn't feel much like an action movie tonight. I settled on Pride and Prejudice and hit play. At least even when the world got me down, I would always have Mr. Darcy.
Eighteen
Chad
"Lori, you look great," called Martin. "Just try to angle your body more toward the camera when you jump."
Lori approached the ledge, arms clutched tight over her chest. "How much longer are we going to do this for? I need to go to the spa this afternoon."
"Need?" I questioned.
She gave me a flat look. "It's been a long week. If I don't get a massage, you're not going to have a good time."
She looked away so she didn't see me roll my eyes. She'd had a long week? She was a long week. We only had a few days left in Hawaii, and I was losing my mind.
"Okay, jump!" Martin instructed from below.
Lori pasted on a smile the second before she leaped and then she was gone. I looked out at the ocean stretching far into the distance, but even this beautiful vista couldn't bolster my mood. A second day of cliff jumping wasn't even supposed to be on the agenda, but Lori had insisted. She didn't like cliff jumping, especially climbing back up, so I knew it had to be because she'd seen the video of Brin and I doing it and needed to one-up my "ex-girlfriend". It was precisely the kind of petty move I would have told myself was cute before. As I'd found out over the past week, there were a lot of things I used to forgive her for or had willfully forgotten.
"Lori's on her way back up," Martin called up. "Let's get one of both of you going over."
I walked over to the side of the cliff and looked down. Lori was climbing up slowly, swearing the whole way. When she got close enough, I reached down for her to help haul her up.
"You were great," I told her.
She adjusted her tits in her bikini top and slicked back her wet hair from her forehead. "What's new?"
I laughed, but it came out hollow sounding. Not that Lori noticed.
"Did I see you checking out my boobs, Saint Chad?" she purred, running her fingers up my chest.
She knew the answer was no, but since the entire move had been engineered to make me look, she would pretend she'd achieved the desired result anyway. Lori could try to titillate me all she wanted, but while I was still pining after Brin, she was just going to have to wait.
"They're great boobs," I replied. "Let's get this last jump finished so we can get you to the spa."
She pursed her lips in irritation but allowed me to lead her over to the ledge.
Saint Chad. Who would have ever thought that I'd garner the nickname "Saint Chad"? It was Lori's way of reminding me every time she could that we still hadn't slept together since we'd gotten back together. I ignored it. When she came on to me, I always gave some excuse for why we couldn't, and it was easy enough to avoid her attempts when we were staying at different properties.
It just didn't feel right. Not yet. And Lori wasn't putting me in the mood. I still couldn't get Brin out of my head. I was trying to make things work with Lori, but it was getting harder by the day. I lived in a constant state of guilt for what I did to Brin, for how I used her. I didn't know why she ran, but I didn't blame her. I just wished I'd had a chance to say goodbye.
"Don't make that stupid face on the way down," Lori said, grabbing my hand as we stared down into the pulsing waters.
The words "shove it" lined themselves up on my tongue but Martin saved me from what would have ultimately been a mistake by telling us to jump whenever we were ready. I was ready.
Lori and I counted to three and leaped off. I made the stupidest face I could, hoping that when she saw the video she took it as the silent "fuck you" it was.
We hit the water and plunged down like arrows. I let go of her hand.
Don't make that stupid face.
I should be telling her not to make that stupid face, the one that read how she thought she was the prettiest girl in the whole world and everybody knew it. How could I forget how unreasonably critical she was to me all the time? Everything was The Lori Show, and if you weren't making Lori look good, you didn't deserve to be on it. This week reminded me of too many things she did that I used to overlook—like all I needed was a comparison to see how truly fucked she was.
I surfaced, bobbing in the water and getting my bearings. Lori came up beside me, sputtering.
"I hate the ocean," she muttered.
I ignored her and started swimming back to the cliffs. Martin was looking at the camera screen, frowning. No doubt the camera had caught how unhappy Lori and I were on the way down. I didn't care and wouldn't be reshooting it. It wasn't worth it.
"That was...fine," Martin said, offering me a hand up. "Maybe we could do one more?"
I shook my head and clambered to the top of the cliff. "I want to go back to the hotel. I'm thirsty."
"That's the best thing you've said all day," said Lori from below.
It was a busy night at the hotel bar. All the better to lose myself in. I was on my third beer and had no plan to stop anytime soon. Instead of enjoying myself naturally, getting shitfaced and trying to forget my problems would do the trick.
Martin and Russell were sat on either side of me at the circular table, though Martin was turned so much toward Lori on his other side that I could barely see his face. Russell was always a quiet drinking companion, so I didn't expect much from him. I didn't expect much from anyone tonight, certainly not myself.
Lori caught my eye from across the table. "How about a shot, baby?" She batted her lashes, leaning down a little to put her cleavage on full display.
A month a
go, this would have been enough to send me into a frenzy. Tonight it was just a pathetic attempt at seduction that missed the mark by a mile. Nonetheless, a shot sounded like a great idea.
I nodded, and Lori signaled for the server to come around. She ordered a round of vodka shots for the table and another round of drinks. Though she came from billionaire stock, it was rare to see Lori spending lavishly on other people. She must really be trying to get in my good graces tonight if she was willing to booze up my two friends and me to do so.
A shot and another two beers later, the room started to take on a blurry, dream-like quality. Lori and Martin were still bent low together talking. She'd tried to come around the table and sit on my lap a beer ago, but I'd shut that down. Now she was ignoring me, trying to make me come to her. It was a textbook Lori Bagley move.
I was too occupied trying to chase out the demons in my head to worry about Lori. It occurred to me somewhere in the back of my mind that I shouldn't be so dismissive and cruel to her just because I fucked up my chances with the girl I really wanted, but I was in a foul mood, and those kinds of thoughts got relegated to the "later" pile.
I needed some air.
I rose from the table suddenly, receiving startled looks from the others.
"I need to get some air," I told them. My eyes couldn't focus on anyone in particular, so I settled for a sweeping glance. Then I was off.
I headed for the nearest exit, which thankfully happened to be the one that led out to the beach. Tiki torches illuminated the path down to the sand, casting flickering shadows over the scrubby bushes around the restaurant patio. A few diners were sitting enjoying their evening meal. They were mostly couples. I had dinner with Brin on the patio only once, and she wore a white dress that night that flowed around her like gossamer silks.
I hit the sand and walked about three feet before plunking myself down to sit. The ocean churned ahead of me, hissing and crashing like tumbling snakes.