by Lisa Roecker
But Taylor quickly scrolled through the texts asking about the yoga retreat or wondering about cell service and a couple that just said “ommmmmmmmm,” which I actually thought was kind of funny.
Taylor went right to the texts that came in on January 10th. The night of Obsideo. There had to be a hundred texts from that day, and almost every one of them was from Bradley Farrow.
u think ur so smart
they’ll never believe u
my word against urs. u know how that goes
just wait
The phone slipped between Taylor’s fingers, striking the hardwood floor and making all of us jump. But it didn’t matter. The texts were seared into my brain. I just hoped we weren’t too late.
Chapter 30
The school day was long under normal circumstances, but even longer that Friday. Watching the clock in every classroom tick away the minutes until I could interrogate Bradley Farrow was torture.
Under the new rules and regulations, by precisely 4:30 p.m. on any given day, Pemberly Brown transformed into a ghost town. The long marble hallways appeared desolate and abandoned, the parking lot cleared of all the expensive cars that occupied spots during the day. No extracurriculars, no detentions, no school meetings, no teacher planning sessions went past 4:00 p.m. Supposedly the school kept late afternoons free to ensure balance for the students. I always thought it was because too many mommies and daddies complained that school events were interfering with their happy hours, but according to Ben, the headmaster had his own extracurricular project he was attending to.
Normally I was the first one out the door when the last bell rang, but today I lingered at my locker and wandered the deserted halls long after most of the students and teachers had left for the day.
I heard whispers. The faint echo of voices trailing down empty hallways.
House party at the U, keg, college boys.
Peter Remington-Davis’s parents are out of town. Pre-game.
My mom’s stylist at Saks put it on hold, meet me there after school.
The 7:30 show with those kids from public.
Student parking was already empty. Even the office was dark behind its glass walls. The week was over. It was time to play. Liam thought I was with Seth; Seth thought I was with Liam; and Taylor thought I was with both of them. Even after seeing Bradley’s name attached to the texts, after reading his threats to Bethany, after I’d spent hours imagining what he was truly capable of, he still didn’t scare me. I was too pissed to be scared. We had a history, and I wanted to watch Bradley go down knowing I was the one who pulled the trigger. Bang.
And it wasn’t because Bradley had spread the word of my puke-n-rally. He hadn’t. Turns out Bradley can be a true gentleman in regards to humiliating bodily functions, even if they do destroy his designer wardrobe. I was angry because none of this should have been happening. I remembered the way his mouth felt on mine when he kissed me the night Grace died. The way my entire body had leaned into his, the way my lips had parted and my fingers had involuntarily wound themselves around his neck. But the moment I gave in was the same moment he’d pulled away. It wasn’t until he’d left me sitting alone on the bench that I’d smelled the smoke.
And now Bethany’s disappearance was history repeating itself. Only this time instead of sitting on a bench at the Pemberly Brown lake, giggling like an imbecile with butterflies fluttering thousands of tiny wings in my stomach, I was going to confront the bastard head-on. “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, I’m going to kick your ass.” Wait, I don’t think that’s how the saying goes.
Regardless, a confrontation between me and Bradley Farrow was long overdue. And so I sat in front of his locker. Waiting. He could have pushed out through a side door or maybe the back, but his black Range Rover was parked where it had been all day, a layer of snow on the windshield reflecting the last rays of the late-afternoon sun. I knew there was a risk in leaving my post to search the empty school, that we might completely miss each other as he went out and I went up or vice versa, but I couldn’t sit still any longer.
Plus, I figured walking around might help me formulate a plan. Which I clearly sucked at, hence my little puke-on-demand performance. My riding boots clicked along the abandoned hallways, the sound bouncing off the surrounding lockers, a few with doors still hanging open slightly after students rushed home at the end of a busy day.
For once, I actually had time to prepare, and I knew exactly how everything was going to play out. I’d quote a few of Bradley’s horrible texts to Bethany so he’d figure out that I had her phone. And then I’d force him to confess to everything. Including where he’d hidden Bethany. After that I’d rescue Bethany and convince her to press charges and destroy the Brotherhood once and for all. It was so easy, it was sick.
Of course there was always the chance he’d confess right when he saw me, a silent understanding exchanged between both of us that this wasn’t going to go any further, that I was here for the truth. Then he’d lead me to the Brotherhood’s new headquarters, which also happened to be where they were holding Bethany, and I’d finally save someone instead of sitting around with my thumb up my butt.
Suddenly, my neck prickled with the knowledge that I was no longer alone in the deserted hallways. I whirled around, prepared to finally confront Bradley, but instead caught a flash of plaid and streaming black hair disappearing around the corner of the hallway.
Bethany?
I clutched the pearls wrapped around my neck. She was back. Or was I just hallucinating again? I chased after her. I had to know for sure.
When I turned the corner, the hallway was empty except for a small slip of paper in the middle of the floor. I didn’t start trembling until I saw the familiar orange handwriting. Grace.
This time it had been Grace.
Don’t trust him. The lies bind.
But there was no time to process the note, because I finally heard his voice. It almost sounded like it was coming from within the walls.
“We’re almost there. Yeah. No, not everyone. They’re taken care of. I’ll find out who. Uh-huh. Yeah.”
There was a pause as though I was listening in on half a phone conversation. Inside a locker. I brought my ear closer to the metal grates, and sure enough, I heard the voice even clearer.
“No, not after Obsideo. No, no. She’s gone. We’re supposed to move forward with Conventus as planned. Yeah. Everything’s in place.”
I stepped back after the voice dropped off again, my hand over my mouth. I’d recognize Bradley Farrow’s voice anywhere, but this didn’t make any sense. What the hell was he doing in the lockers?
And then I remembered what Ben had said—I heard his voice clear as day. “And now that they have these new secret passageways built into the walls, they don’t really use the tunnels anymore.”
Just as my feeble brain finally began to put two and two together, I saw one of the handles of the lockers jiggle. I looked at the note in my hands, thought about the words I just heard, and I realized I wasn’t ready to face Bradley. Not yet.
I whipped my head left and right looking for a place to hide. About three feet down, a locker door hung ajar, a heavy fleece preventing the lock from clicking into place. I ran toward it and sized up the space. Whoever used the locker wasn’t exactly a neat person. An entire coat closet worth of jackets were looped over the hook, and textbooks were stacked with crumpled papers sticking out from between the pages. I didn’t think even the creepy contortionist who had performed at Maddie’s seventh-grade birthday party, made famous by his ability to fold himself into a small cooler, could have pulled this off. But I had to try. I put my foot in first, shoving the fleece and nylon back with my arm while my body temperature increased approximately fifteen degrees.
“Ahem.”
At that moment I knew I’d rather be puking. I yanked my foot from the jaws of life, aka the most disgusting locker on the face of the planet, while working very hard not to make eye contact.
; “You’re not going to puke again, are you?” Bradley stood at the other end of the hallway, as far away as possible from the locker I’d just heard him speaking out of. Despite the fact that I was now questioning my own sanity, I did know one thing for sure. He had not emerged from behind that locker door. There was just no way. Empty or not. No one could fit into one of those. Especially not someone Bradley’s size.
Before I could stop myself, another kind of vomit began spewing out uncontrollably from between my lips. And it was so much worse than a partially digested lunch.
“I saw the texts on Bethany’s phone. I know you kidnapped her and I know she’s in danger and I have no idea what you’re planning on doing to her, but I swear to God, I will bring you down and destroy everything you love and I heard you talking in that locker and I don’t care how you got in there but I am so sick of all these freaking secrets so bring me to her right now or…or…I’ll…” I wracked my brain in the second it took to catch my breath and said the first thing that came to mind, raging lunatic or not: “Or I’ll puke on you. I swear to God, I’ll throw up right on you.” I paused for dramatic effect. “And I had tacos for lunch.”
Even with the distance between us, I could see Bradley’s eyes widen. I watched as he pulled his head back as though he wasn’t quite sure he was hearing what he was hearing. And then he lowered his head in his hands, his giant palms covering his face. I thought for a second that a confession was forthcoming, that I’d finally brought the king of the Brotherhood to tears. But then I realized this was an emotional breakdown of a completely different variety.
Bradley wasn’t crying; he was laughing, the huge, shoulder-jerking, can’t-catch-your-breath kind of laughing that Grace, Maddie, and I used to spend entire summers doing.
I probably should have been scared for my own safety, considering I was alone in an empty building with a person clearly crazier than myself, but I was too pissed off for fear.
Instead, a burning rage coursed through my veins, and my fists clenched and unclenched. I was going to get the truth out of Bradley Farrow, even if I had to rip it out of his throat. I rushed at him with every intention of wrapping my hands around his neck and doing just that.
Triumph burst sweet and bitter, like sour candy in my mouth, the moment my fingers met his neck.
Chapter 31
Bradley pried my fingers off his neck, one by one. He wasn’t even breathing heavily. Apparently, the nickname Kate “the Strangler” Lowry wasn’t in my future.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” The note of genuine concern in his voice only stoked the anger burning in my gut.
“Just tell me where she is. I know everything. There’s no point in lying.” I was practically begging. So much for maintaining control of the situation.
“Are you off your meds or something?” Bradley leaned in close to examine my pupils, and his warm breath lapped at my cheek. He grabbed my hand. “You should sit down. You don’t look so good.”
When his words finally sank in, I jerked my arm away from his. Unbelievable. Who did he think he was fooling?
“I’m fine.” I wanted to take a few steps back. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs and let out all the frustration, let it echo through the empty hallways. But I couldn’t let him see that I was rattled. I had to hold my ground. “I just want answers.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
I shook my head. “I know you guys have her. Just tell me where she is.”
“You really think I kidnapped Bethany?”
“I saw the texts you were sending her. I found her phone.” I sort of wished I’d brought it with me now, but I couldn’t risk Bradley taking the only evidence I’d been able to find so far. Been there, done that. I’d locked the bedazzled phone in the small safe under my bed at home. No one knew the code to that safe except me and Grace, and even if she was still haunting the halls of Pemberly Brown, I was pretty sure she wouldn’t be helping out the Brotherhood anytime soon.
Bradley shook his head and swore under his breath. “I know you have absolutely no reason to trust me, but someone is setting me up.”
I snorted. I couldn’t help it. How stupid did he think I was?
“Bradley?” A deep voice called out from down the hall and we both jumped a little.
Bradley narrowed his eyes as he peered down the hall. “Oh, um…hey, Dad.”
Mr. Farrow walked toward us with a tight smile on his face. He was handsome in the most intimidating way possible, all ebony skin and taut cheekbones. It should have been reassuring to have an adult present, but the knot that formed in my stomach when Mr. Farrow towered over me was anything but.
“Did you get what you needed?” Mr. Farrow shot his son a meaningful look.
“Uh, yeah. I got it.” Bradley’s cool confidence completely disappeared in front of his father. Not that I blamed him. I think if I’d had a full bladder I probably would have peed myself.
Mr. Farrow turned his sharp eyes on me.
“Hello, Kate. What’s keeping you here so late?” I was pretty sure Mr. Farrow’s question could be loosely translated as: “What the hell are you doing snooping around in my son’s business?” and I didn’t exactly have an answer on the tip of my tongue. Thankfully, Bradley beat me to the punch.
“Kate just forgot one of her books. She didn’t see…I mean, I just ran into her on my way out to my car.”
Mr. Farrow did not look convinced. Not even close.
“Are you sure there isn’t something you want to tell me, Bradley?”
I opened my mouth to speak. The hell with this. Mr. Farrow should know what his son and his friends have been up to. It was time to lay all my cards out on the table. Now or never. “The truth is…”
“We’re dating,” Bradley interrupted.
“Huh?” I looked over at Bradley. “Are you on…”
“It’s okay, Kate,” Bradley interrupted, gently placing his fingers over my mouth. “I was going to tell him anyway. I don’t want you to get hurt.” Bradley had a strange look in his eyes, and his emphasis on the word “hurt” convinced me that it might be in my best interest to nod along with his scheme, as opposed to biting his fingers, which would have been my next move.
I ducked away from Bradley’s fingers. “Well, I’ve always liked Bradley. I’m not sure if he told you that.” I fluttered my eyelashes in Bradley’s direction and swallowed the bile in my throat. “It’s embarrassing but true!”
Mr. Farrow stiffened. And Bradley started talking fast to cover up my social ineptitude.
“Right. It’s just one of those things. You know…love at first sight. Or maybe first barf.” Bradley gave me an awkward half hug and smiled winningly, but the look faded as soon as he met his dad’s eyes. Anger flashed across Mr. Farrow’s face, and I was reminded at once of his power.
“You’ll forgive me for being a little shocked. Bradley seems to think most everything is a joke. He forgets how quickly things can become serious.”
“Actually, I’m reminded every day,” Bradley mumbled under his breath.
Somehow I got the feeling we weren’t talking relationships anymore.
“Sometimes when you’ve had everything handed to you on a silver platter, you need a reminder of what it means to actually have to work for something.” Mr. Farrow winked at Bradley, mocking his son. It reminded me of that song about fathers, sons, and (randomly) a cat in a cradle that always made my dad cry. Dr. Prozac would have a field day with this little display.
I shifted uncomfortably on my feet and stumbled into the locker behind me. Mr. Farrow jerked his head in my direction and gave me a long, hard look starting at the tips of my beat-up riding boots and going all the way up to my blue hair. “Kate, you’ll be happy to know that we’ve teamed up with the Lees to contribute to the new wing in Grace’s name. I know you’ve been doing everything in your power to keep her memory alive.”
My stomach clenched when he said her name, his words sounding more like a challenge than idle small
talk. Sweat ran down into the small of my back. The mere mention of Grace and a subtle hint at my failed investigation were enough to put a crack in my performance as Kate Lowry, perfect girlfriend.
“Grace was my best friend. I can’t let anyone forget her. I’m sure you understand.”
Mr. Farrow smiled, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Of course, it’s easy to rewrite history when we lose a loved one, isn’t it? Sometimes we only remember the things we want to remember.”
The truth of his words felt like a knife in my heart. That was the story of my life, wasn’t it? Everyone remembering the stuff that they wanted to remember, ignoring the facts, fudging the truth.
Bradley slung his arm around my shoulders and gave me a quick squeeze. I shrugged his arm off in disgust before I remembered we were supposed to be dating. Or something.
“Well, the good news is that I remember everything. All of it.” I grabbed my bag from the floor and swung it over my shoulders. “It was kind of my job to know her secrets.”
Mr. Farrow cleared his throat and looked a little shocked. The expression that flickered over his handsome face somehow made him look even more like Bradley.
“You’ve chosen well for once, Bradley. At least this one seems loyal.”
Our strained conversation officially fell into awkward territory as Bradley and I stared at our feet, the hallway completely silent except for the low hiss of the heat kicking on.
I leaned my head against the locker next to me, and that’s when I heard the voice.
“She’s as good as dead. It’s all over for the Sisterhood.”
I froze, Mr. Farrow stiffened, and Bradley jerked to attention. Guess Bradley and I weren’t the only ones who decided to stay late tonight. There was someone else in the passageway, and they were talking about Bethany. They had her in there. I was sure of it. If only I could figure out how to get to her.