“Because it’s true.”
He pulled the door open and disappeared into the darkened hallway.
I took his spot on the bed, staring at the gun in my hands. I pictured the next few days alone, without Anna or Sam or even Cas within shouting distance, and started to wonder if I was making one of the biggest mistakes of my life.
The three of them were all I knew. All I’d ever needed to know.
But living like this, wondering about the past, about the mistakes I might have made, was tearing away at my insides like a handful of pills.
I had to go.
No matter what I found.
8
ELIZABETH
JUST AS EVAN PROMISED, EVERYONE changed their plans for me. It was a testament to how much sway Evan had over the group. Everyone did what Evan wanted.
The group had decided to have a bonfire out by Walsh Lake instead of going to Arrow. Evan picked up Chloe and me right on time, and he made his friend Sean move to the backseat, so I could ride shotgun. Another car with five of Evan’s friends inside trailed behind us on the road.
Walsh Lake was north of town, and though the drive usually took twenty-five minutes or so, Evan sped nearly the whole way, cutting it down to fifteen. He had a foreign sports car, one of those compact cars that rode close to the ground, with a rear spoiler that was nearly as tall as me. It was a manual transmission, and I couldn’t help but watch Evan as he shifted through the gears, the muscles and tendons in his forearm twining in a weird sort of dance.
With the night dark around us, the headlights cutting through it, and the summer air filtering in through our open windows, I started to plan what oils I’d mix to remember this night.
Mentally, I flipped through my collection. Amber, definitely. Musk. Maybe one of my cleaner fragrances, something reminiscent of a lake or—
“Lissy?” Evan said.
“What?”
He pulled his cell phone away from his ear and said, “What do you feel like drinking?”
One of Evan’s friends was old enough to buy alcohol and was taking requests before meeting us at the lake with the haul.
“Whatever you’re having.”
“Fifth of Morgan,” he said through the phone. Then, “I don’t care. Coke, I guess.” He ended the call and slid the phone into the center console.
A streetlight winked to red, and Evan shifted. The car’s engine went down an octave, but still rumbled as we waited for a green light.
“I’m glad you came out with us tonight,” he said.
“Me, too,” I answered, shoving my hands in my lap.
“We should do this more often.”
“Yeah,” Chloe said, and sat forward, sticking her head through the seats. “You need to get out more. You need to find a man, too.” She turned her head just enough to wink at me without Evan seeing.
“I volunteer,” Sean said. “I’m free tonight.”
Evan laughed and shook his head. “She’s too good for you, you idiot.”
The light flicked to green, and Evan hit the gas. The thrill of the takeoff, and his words, turned my stomach over on itself.
The west shore of Walsh Lake was dotted with openings where several fire pits had been installed. Across the lake, large, expensive houses were outlined in the moonlight, a few windows glowing amber in the dark.
Once we found an open spot, Evan parked, and we all clambered out. Crickets chirped from the underbrush and tree frogs croaked in between. The moon was full and cast its light on the black water in ripples of silver.
Evan started the bonfire with hardly any trouble before grabbing a few camping chairs from the trunk of his car. He offered me one and I sat. He opened a chair next to me and settled in as the fire gained ground.
“Tom should be here soon,” he told everyone, and they answered with cheers. Tom was the supplier of alcohol.
A car stereo had been cranked up, and the windows rolled down, so that rock music wound its way to us at the shore. The steady beats seemed to vibrate through my chest.
Chloe and another girl, named Madison, danced around the fire while a few guys gathered wood to keep the fire going. Evan leaned toward me.
“Having fun yet?”
I smiled and nodded. “It’s nice getting out every once in a while.”
He grew serious. “How come you don’t come out with us more?”
What I wanted to say was, You guys don’t always invite me, or, Some nights I can’t stand the thought of being in public.
Instead I said, “I don’t know.”
“Well, you should,” he answered. “You should come out with us every night from now on.”
I laughed. “That would mean you couldn’t go to Arrow. And that wouldn’t be fair.”
He waved his hand in the air. “Arrow is lame anyway. They’ve started playing mostly techno music, and while I like techno music as much as the next guy, I need a little more rock, you know?”
I said yes, as if I did, but really I didn’t.
Headlights flickered through the trees as a vehicle wound its way up the narrow trail to our spot. Tom turned his truck around at the end of the road and backed up. When he climbed out, he said, “Booze is here!” and everyone cheered again.
“I’ll go mix you a drink,” Evan said, and hurried off.
Tom opened the truck’s tailgate, and a drinks station was quickly assembled. Chloe grabbed a beer and crashed into Evan’s abandoned chair.
She waggled her eyebrows. “How’s it going?”
“It’s going fine.”
“Don’t be coy. You want to jump his bones, don’t you?”
“Chloe!” I shouted.
“It’s fine if you do! Every girl here does.” She tipped her head at Madison, who was very very close to Evan’s side as she waited for the bottle of Coke. “Madison has had a crush on him for years. And Hanna”—she pointed at a petite girl across the fire from us, who was chatting with another guy but checking on Evan every few seconds—“hooked up with Evan last month and hasn’t stopped talking about it since. She will somehow find a way to insert it into every conversation. It drives us all mad.”
I looked from Hanna to Evan and wondered what had happened. I also wondered what that sour taste on the back of my tongue was and realized it was the taste of jealousy.
“So listen, kid,” Chloe said. “I know you try to pretend like (a) you don’t like Evan or (b) you’re somehow a Spam sandwich or the worst, (c), you’re invisible! But I think Evan likes you and I think you should have some fun and I think you should stop thinking about it so much and just do it.”
I wasn’t sure if she meant do it, as in it, or as in kiss, hold hands, whatever. I didn’t ask for clarification, because Evan reappeared at my side and shooed Chloe away.
She grinned at me as she wandered off.
“Here,” Evan said, and handed me a red plastic cup.
I gave it a cursory smell. It was a deep, rich smell, like amber and spices. I’d never had rum before. In fact, I’d only ever had a few glasses of wine. I wasn’t supposed to drink with all the medication I was on, but one wouldn’t hurt. Would it?
I thought about Aggie finding out. When I’d called her to tell her I’d be home late, she’d sounded positively ecstatic. She’d told me to stay out as long as I wanted, and that she wouldn’t wait up. Chances were she wouldn’t even find out I’d been drinking, but a sliver of shame twisted in my chest.
“Try it,” Evan said, and I took a drink.
The rum mixed with the Coke wasn’t so bad. It was good, even. I took another sip, and another.
Evan and I chatted while I finished my first cup. He made me another after I asked for more. Near the bottom of my second, my face grew warm and my head grew fuzzy. The fire shifted left, then right. Chloe skipped in front of me, chasing after Sean, and for a second I had a hard time focusing on her.
The more I drank, the lighter and fuzzier I felt. The more I laughed, the more Evan laughed. The more I felt like m
aybe I could do it, whatever it was.
A lot of my insecurities drifted away with the embers of the fire. I forgot about Gabriel, about losing my mother, the terrible things I’d gone through. I finally felt like a normal girl.
After I’d finished my second drink and half of my third, Evan asked if I’d go for a walk with him. I left my cup sitting on the ground near my chair, and Evan grabbed my hand as he pulled me into the woods.
I immediately missed the heat of the fire, but the warmth of Evan’s body pressed close to my side helped. His fingers were threaded with mine, our arms intertwined. We ducked through the trees and followed a trail that had been worn into the forest over time.
“This goes down to a little inlet,” Evan explained, his voice quieter now that we weren’t talking over the noise of the group. “It’s really pretty,” he added.
I smiled, even though he couldn’t see me. I couldn’t stop smiling.
The path we were on was wide and clear, and the moonlight lit it pretty well. Still, I had a hard time following a straight line. I kept stumbling over roots that had broken through the dirt. Evan let go of my hand and wove his arm around me, his fingers settling on my waist. A thrill went up my spine.
“That better?” he asked, a bit of amusement in his voice.
“Yes, thanks.”
“Maybe you drank a little bit too much.”
I laughed. “I guess I did.”
“Sorry,” he said, tightening his hold on me. “I should have stopped you after one.”
“It’s all right. I’m fine.”
Better than fine.
The walk took less than ten minutes, and when we reached the inlet, the path turned into a steep decline. Evan went first and helped me down. When the ground flattened out again, Evan guided me to a large rock that sat half onshore, half in the water. It was big enough for both of us, and Evan pulled me in to him, tucking me in the crook of his arm.
My stomach swam.
“Sometimes I come out here by myself,” he said, his voice low and heavy. “No one comes out here, especially at night. It’s quiet.”
It was. Though I could still hear the voices of the others off in the distance, here, now, was muffled by darkness, and punctuated by the constant slapping of the water against the shore.
“What do you think?” Evan asked, turning to face me.
I looked up at him. His eyes were flecked with silver from the moonlight, his lips gleaming, too. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was how kind Evan was being, but I leaned closer and kissed him.
He hesitated one second and no more before matching the kiss. His hand came up, fingers lacing through my hair. I reached over, placing my hand on his chest, and felt the flexing of muscle beneath the thin material of his T-shirt. His tongue ran across my mouth, growing more fervent, and I answered back.
I didn’t want him to stop. I didn’t want this night to stop.
Something chirped. Evan pulled away and sighed. “Sorry,” he said, and dug his cell out of his pocket. The screen read MOM. “I gotta take this. Give me a second?”
“Sure.”
Evan answered. “Hey, Ma.” He paused, then, “I’m out at the lake. What? No. Hold on.” He held the phone to his chest and said to me, “I don’t have much of a signal. I’m going to see if I can find one. Wait here?”
I wanted to tell him I’d come with, I was afraid of being out here in the dark alone, but instead I nodded. Because I didn’t want to reveal how fragile I really was.
Evan kissed me once more before scooting off the rock and heading back up the hill. I watched him wander away, holding his phone in the air. Within seconds, he was gone, swallowed up by the forest.
I folded my arms around myself and stared out at the lake. The water was black, the other side invisible in the dark. Something cracked behind me. I whirled around. “Evan?” I called.
Nothing.
I slid off the rock and went up on tiptoes to see to the top of the hill. “Evan?”
A shuffle.
My heart sped up.
A twig snapped.
Goose bumps rose on my arms. I hurried up the hill and scanned the forest. I couldn’t see Evan, or the glow of his cell phone. Something rattled the bushes to my left and I ran.
My heart beat at the back of my throat. My breath came quickly. My feet couldn’t seem to move fast enough.
The forest teetered, my vision still unsteady. I caught my foot on something and went down hard, palms slamming into the rocky dirt. All the air left my lungs, and when I sucked in the next breath, I caught the overwhelming scent of pine.
Pine trees. Gabriel. Gabriel’s scent.
I squeezed my eyes shut, that old feeling of panic and despair blowing up inside me, eating away at what was real and rational.
The old bullet wound in my chest burned, and I saw the flicker of a gun pointed at me in the darkness behind my closed eyelids.
The last night of the six months I’d been kidnapped had ended in a forest just like this.
A choked sound escaped my closing throat. Tears blurred my vision.
The scar running along my left side pulsed, and I acutely remembered the pain that had taken hold when the knife had cut my flesh.
Terror squeezed my windpipe.
I couldn’t catch my breath.
What if they were here again? What if they were here to finish the job?
Hands reached for me, fingers digging into my shoulders, and I screamed.
I screamed and screamed and screamed.
“Lissy!”
I was sobbing now, sobbing and shaking, and every part of my body ached.
I wanted to go home. I wanted my mom.
“Elizabeth!” Chloe shook me.
On an inhale, I looked up. Everyone from the bonfire had gathered around. Evan was crouched in front of me, his hands gripping my wrists. Chloe was to my left.
“What happened?” Evan asked.
I tried so hard to stop the tears running down my face, but couldn’t.
“Take me home,” I said, my voice racked with sobs. “Please.”
He nodded and helped me to my feet. As he led me away, I felt their eyes on me, watching. When I was gone, they’d whisper, and theorize, and joke about the crazy girl.
Because I was the crazy girl.
9
ELIZABETH
I CALLED IN SICK THE NEXT DAY. Merv sounded so unsurprised, so quiet and sympathetic, that I wondered if Evan or Chloe had told him what happened. Merv even told me to take the next day off, and the next if I needed it.
Retreating to my bedroom, the place that had become my safe spot since moving in with Aggie, sounded like the best idea ever. But hiding wouldn’t change anything, and my therapist had told me the more I was alone with my thoughts, the worse they’d become.
So I assured Merv I’d return the next day, and hoped no one even mentioned what had happened. Most of all Evan.
A knock sounded on my bedroom door. I called out, “Come in,” but didn’t bother moving from the spot I’d been glued to since waking.
There was probably a permanent indentation where I’d been lying in my bed, staring at the cobalt bottles lined up on my shelf, wanting Gabriel’s bottle so badly it hurt. It wasn’t that I found comfort in him. Rather, that night in the woods had haunted me so much in the past twenty-four hours that I wanted to relive it, acutely, so I could get it all over at once. Experience the flashback and be done with it.
Aggie pushed my door open and shuffled in, a tray in her hands. “Hey, sweetie,” she said. She came over to the bed and eased down onto the edge. “I brought you some nourishment.”
I propped myself on an elbow and surveyed the tray. Steam rose from a bowl of potato soup. Crackers lay in a ramekin next to it. There was also a package of chocolates and a bottle of water.
“Did you just make the soup?” I asked. As far as I knew, we were out of frozen portions of her homemade soup. She made the best potato soup I’d ever tasted, and she a
lways made it for me when I was sick or feeling low.
“I had a bag of potatoes I was saving for pot roast,” she explained, “but I figured they were better used for today.” She smiled, and the deep wrinkles around her eyes grew deeper still.
I sat upright and Aggie set the tray over my lap. “Thanks for this.”
She patted my leg. “Don’t mention it. How are you feeling?”
I’d told her briefly what had happened last night, since I’d come home earlier than she’d expected, and not only that, but I’d arrived shaken and pale. She knew right away something had gone wrong.
“I’m… embarrassed.”
“If they are your real friends, they’ll understand.”
“Not everyone wants to deal with a crazy person.”
She tilted her head to give me a look over the frames of her glasses. “You’re not crazy, dear.”
Though I hadn’t felt much like eating at all today, now that the soup was in front of me, my stomach growled. I dug right in.
“I’ll let you enjoy that in peace,” Aggie said as she slowly rose from the bed, her knees cracking when she finally made it upright. “Let me know if you need anything else, hmm?”
“I will.”
She nodded and ambled off, closing the door behind her.
I ate the soup in record time and got out of bed only to set the tray aside. I stared at the bottles again, the glass glowing in the sunlight that poured through my parted curtains.
GABRIEL.
I read his label over and over until his name was nothing but a string of consonants and vowels, until it didn’t even sound like a name anymore.
He hadn’t looked like a Gabriel. In fact, when I’d asked him what his name was, when he was rushing me to the ER, he’d paused before answering, as if he wasn’t sure. Or maybe he didn’t want to tell me.
GABRIEL.
I hadn’t seen him at all while I was held captive. The first time I saw him was the day I escaped, the day some girl opened my cell door and ushered me out, her face hidden in the shadows cast by a black hood.
“Go,” the girl had said, so I went. Though I’d been released from my room countless times before then, I knew instantly that this time was different. Usually I was flanked by two men. Usually I was led, stumbling, to a lab. Usually the place where I was held was silent save for the distant humming and thrumming of machines and vents.
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