by S. M. Soto
Tears slip down my cheeks. I drop my face in my hands, my nails digging into my skin as I wish for her to leave under my breath. When I pull my hands away and open my eyes, she’s still there.
“Why won’t you just leave?” I choke.
For the first time, Madison’s face cracks with sadness. She closes the distance between us and takes my hand in hers and squeezes. A sob bursts from my chest at how real it feels. Her touch. All of it.
“Oh, Kenz,” she breathes, tucking my hair behind my ear, wiping my cheek clean of my tears. “I can’t leave. Not yet. You haven’t let me go. Now, look again,” she implores, her own eyes, identical to mine, shining with tears. She searches my face, and I search hers. The tears keep coming as we sit there. Because I miss her. I miss everything about her.
The same way she tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, she does the same to herself. I pause, a frown creeping across my face. Leaning into her, I squint my eyes, trying to see clearly.
“Keep looking, Mackenzie,” she whispers.
I grip Madison’s shoulders, and I yank her closer, eyes fixed on one of her ears that is now exposed, the lock of dark hair gently encased behind it. I look at her other ear, and my breath catches.
“Oh, my God.”
She smiles.
Gripping her face in my trembling hands, I move her head left and right, and sure enough, one ear has small diamond studs running up the lobe, and on the other side, she’s missing one. An identical one to the one I found in the box.
“It was yours, wasn’t it?”
“You’re almost there.”
With adrenaline now pumping through my veins, I lunge for the earring on the bed. Moving it around in my fingers, I hold it up against her ear. This is it.
It’s her earring.
She must’ve lost it that night.
Ice settles into my chest when realization slams into me. If she was wearing it that night, and Zach had it stuffed away in his safe, that must mean … that must mean …
“Fuck!”
I curse, whirling around the bed, scrambling through the box findings. My eyes scramble for the receipts, and I squint, trying to read the text. It’s from a hardware store back in Ferndale. What would teenage boys need at a hardware store?
I pause, trying to unscramble my thoughts. I can hear her approaching footsteps.
“Look again,” she demands, a bit of an edge to her tone.
I scan over everything, my eyes lingering on the binder paper and the rope, but I skim over it, moving on. I nibble on my thumbnail.
“What am I missing?” I whisper aloud.
“It’s here,” she says more urgently. “It’s right in front of you, Mackenzie. Look. Again.”
“I’m trying!” I snap back at her.
“Try again! Open your eyes, Mackenzie, dammit!” she yells back.
I scowl at her over my shoulder, and when I look back at everything laid out before me, my eyes gravitate toward the folded binder paper. I lift it, looking at it again.
Nothing.
I look down at the receipts again.
Nothing.
I’m just about to say to hell with it and shove everything off the bed when I look at the rope.
Rope.
Hardware store.
Receipts.
Missing clothes.
With my heart thundering in my chest, I dig for the receipts again, trying to read what the items were. When I see something that resembles rope, my chest constricts. I reach for the paper again and pace with it in my hands.
The numbers on the side are confusing, but it could be a map. Maybe it’s where they hid her clothes? There must be a reason they took them off her. Maybe they needed to hide their DNA? And suddenly, it slams into me.
Coordinates.
I glance down at the paper and the random numbers.
They’re coordinates!
Whatever is there, it’s the answer.
When I look up, Madison is nowhere to be found. With the paper gripped in my hand, I hurry to my laptop, waking it. I go into Google Maps for help, and I type in the numbers, hoping something will magically appear.
The circle loads, and finally, the coordinates square in on the Redwoods State Park in Ferndale. I stop breathing and choke for a second on my disbelief.
This is it. This is really it.
With clammy hands, I open the word doc and continue where I left off. I don’t know how long I sit there typing, but it’s long enough that I finish my coffee and sunrise streams through the curtains. I don’t stop. I don’t stop when my hands hurt. I don’t stop when my vision starts to blur. I don’t stop until I’m at my final paragraph. My proof.
After saving my work, I open my email, searching through my alerts for any news or keywords with Baz or any of the guys. There’s only one. Something about a pool party happening tonight at Baz’s resort. I know I should probably keep my distance, but I have to do something. He has to know.
I don’t even know if he’ll be back at the resort yet. He could still be in Las Vegas. They all could. Or they could all be here.
In the ghetto motel, I head down to the front desk, ringing the bell until the same potbellied disgusting man comes out from the back, much as he did when I first booked my room. His eyes trail up and down my body, and they settle on my face, his brows crinkling when he takes in my stressed state.
Yeah, yeah, I know. I probably look like a mess—maybe even worse than he does, but I need his help.
“I need a printer.”
He stares back at me dumbly. “And?”
I grind my teeth together. “I need to print something. It’s important.”
He raises a brow, then grins, leaning against the desk between us. “There’s a fee if you need to use the printer.”
I narrow my eyes. “This is a shitty motel.”
“You can always pay using other favors.” He shrugs.
I shoot him a glare that would eviscerate most men. I dig into my back pocket, pulling out my last wad of cash and slide over a hundred.
“Take it or leave it, asshole.”
He nods over his shoulder and grins, slipping the hundred into his pocket. “The printer’s back there.”
I curl my lip in distaste when I look at the printer and computer. There’s an open bag of Fritos and bean dip, and right next to the keyboard, there’s a pump of lotion and Kleenex. I almost gag when I think about what that could be used for.
Perching my bottom on the edge of his seat, I wake the computer with a grimace on my face, not wanting to touch anything that belongs to this man. When the screen comes to life, it opens to the Pornhub homepage, and I roll my eyes.
Seriously?
I open a new tab, logging into my email, and open the last doc I sent myself. I click print, and I wait anxiously as the printer wakes up from its slumber, mechanically spitting out my pages filled with words. About halfway through, I have to refill the paper tray. That’s how much I need to have printed.
Twenty minutes later, I have a thick stack of papers bundled in my arms, and I’m logging out of my email. I walk past the clerk, giving him a wide berth. His eyes widen when he gets a look at the thick stack in my arms.
“You’re all out of ink. But thanks,” I toss over my shoulder, hurrying back to the stairs.
“Hey! That’s gonna cost you more than a bill!” he yells after me.
“Have a great day!” I yell back, running up the stairs.
Back in my room, I take a shower, dress quickly, and make another pot of shitty coffee before I leave. With the stack secured in my arms, I take an Uber back to the resort.
I’m banned. I know that.
I likely won’t even be allowed inside the premises, but I need to get Baz’s attention. I need him to read it, so he’ll understand who his friends are and who he’s protecting.
With my Yankees cap pulled low over my head, I climb out of the car and shift my bag over my shoulder, slipping inside. I bypass the check-in desk entire
ly, instead walking down the hall. I glance conspicuously over my shoulder, making sure I’m not being followed. I jab at the elevator button frantically, hoping it’ll come. The faster I get up there, the less chance I have of being caught.
The doors slide open, and I hop in quickly; I’m just about to hit the penthouse floor when I realize my mistake.
Fucking hell.
I don’t have access anymore.
I smack my hand in the center of my forehead, trying to think. I just need to get on the top floor and figure out where the hell I can go from there. Maybe I can use the stairs? I can wait up there until someone opens a door, and I can say I lost my key card. With my mind made up, I jab the top floor that’s just below the penthouse.
The ride up is long. Much longer than I remember it being. The thick stack of papers is burning a hole through my bag and weighing heavily on my shoulder. The elevator pings, and when the doors slide open, I’m just about to hop out when I see who is waiting on the other side.
My stomach drops.
Shit.
Dan and three other security guards stand there scowling at me. I heave a deep sigh and step off, staring straight at Dan.
“Please, Dan. I need to speak to him. It’ll be quick. I promise. I have to show him something. I need him to understand.”
Dan and the other guards don’t budge. “I have strict orders to keep you off all premises.”
Tears spring to my eyes. “Please, Dan. I need one minute. Just one,” I whisper, a tear trailing down my cheek. Though Dan’s face gives nothing away, his eyes start to soften. He suddenly glances down, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He brings it to his ear, his eyes on me the entire time.
“Okay. I’ll bring her up then.”
I stand a little taller and strain to hear who is on the other side of that call. Is it Baz? If he didn’t want to see me, why would he let me up?
Dan shoos off the security and beckons me back into the elevator, taking me to the penthouse. I shift toward him, trying to contain my tears and the sudden bout of anxiety.
“Thank you so much.”
“Don’t thank me yet.”
“You’re a good man.”
He seems uncomfortable with the praise. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches me, a grimace stealing over his features.
“I hope you don’t take offense, Ms. Williams, but you look like a mess.”
I glance down at myself, then look at the mirrored wall before me and cringe. I guess I do look like a mess.
“Yeah.” I sigh. “I guess I do. It’s been … tough.”
He grunts, his hands clasped in front of him as he stares ahead. “I’d imagine so. I take it you’re being … careful.”
I look away from my shitty reflection to him, trying to read between the lines.
What does that mean?
The elevator rolls to a stop on the penthouse floor, and I get out, Dan following close behind. He suddenly stops before Baz’s door, and when I look back, he jerks his chin, telling me to keep going.
“He’s waiting in there.”
I nod stiffly, sucking in a deep breath for strength before I push inside. There’s music playing somewhere. It’s not loud. It’s almost like it’s coming from outdoors. I walk farther inside, ignoring my bleeding heart.
“Baz?” I call out and get no answer.
I pause for a second, unsure if I should wait for him or keep going. He obviously knows I’m here if he allowed Dan to send me up. Is this some mind game?
Make me look like a fool as I wait for him?
Shaking off my fear, I square my shoulders and walk farther inside. I hear Baz’s deep chuckle coming from his bedroom, and my brows tug down. I knock on the door, and when I get no response, I push inside. The sight that greets me has my stomach churning. The pit deepens, and I sway on my feet for a second, having to clutch a hand to the wall for support.
If possible, my heart shatters even more. It’s irreparable at this point. There are two naked women on his bed, and outside, beyond his floor-to-ceiling windows, is a party filled with scantily dressed women. Ice fills my chest, and a vise tightens around my lungs, making it hard to breathe. And when I glance in the corner of his room, I find Baz sitting in a leather chaise in nothing but board shorts and a glass of amber liquid. He’s watching me with a bored expression.
I try not to let my eyes trail down his body. I won’t give him the satisfaction, not when he’s losing himself in who knows how many women after me.
Did I really mean that little to him?
“You forget how to speak all of a sudden? Or did you just run out of lies?”
The two nude women on the bed laugh at my expense and go back to kissing each other. A sob crawls up my throat, threatening to escape, but I refuse to let it. I shake my head, begging myself to hold it together.
“I came to explain.” My voice doesn’t sound like it belongs to me. It’s weak.
Or maybe it does sound like me. The real me.
Baz raises a brow and smirks. It’s a cold smirk. It’s like a lash against my skin or acid on an open wound.
“Ah, more lies.” He laughs without humor, taking a sip from his glass. He dismisses me, glancing at the women on the bed moaning. The pain in my chest is intensifying.
I hate this. Why is he doing this?
“Please, Baz. Can we go somewhere private?” I plead, glancing at the women out of the corner of my eye. One woman has her hand between the other’s legs, and they’re making out quite crudely.
“It’s Sebastian to you.” Another lash. Blood gushing from the open wound. “And no, we can’t. I like my view just fine. What about you, Mackenzie—or should I say Scarlett—do you like it?”
“Stop it,” I hiss, my vision blurring with unshed tears. The backs of my eyes and my nose are stinging with the pressure.
Sebastian suddenly stands, his glass clanging against the end table as he stalks toward me. I take a wary step back, my grip tightening on my bag as I force a thick swallow. My throat feels raw, like sandpaper.
We stare at each other. Music thumps from the balcony. Laughter drifts and so do the moans from the bed, but I don’t see anything but him. His gaze trails up and down my body, probably taking in my ratty appearance and the dark circles under my eyes. His brows crease lightly, but he doesn’t comment on it. Thank God.
“I came to give you this. I know you hate me. I know you never want to see me again, but I ... just … just read it. Please. I need you to understand.” The tears roll down my cheeks, and I watch the muscle in his jaw clench, unmoved by my tears. I start digging into my bag, pulling out the heavy stack. The thick book.
“Stop,” he suddenly growls, and I freeze with the thick stack in my hands, staring up at him with wide eyes. He takes a step into me, and my eyes widen. My battered heart is stammering in my chest. Baz reaches up, his thumb traces around my lips, and I lean into him. A whimper escapes before I can stop it, and he freezes. I think that’s it. I’m sure he’s going to stop, but he doesn’t. He traces again, leaning into me even more.
“Such a beautiful face,” he says thickly, eyes heated with desire. “Such perfect lips,” he muses. Gone are thoughts of Madison. Gone are plans for justice. Now, all I can think about is him. His lips on mine. Him forgiving me.
Baz leans into me, and my heart seizes in my chest. My breath catches. “Lips that have lied, over and over again,” he whispers over my mouth, his warm, fresh breath tantalizing me and breaking my heart all at once. “Lips that have done nothing but kiss me with lies.”
My eyes widen. Dread swirls in my gut, and fear crawls up my spine at the detached expression on his face.
“I—”
He cuts me off, his fingers sealed over my lips. “I didn’t care to hear your excuses before, and surely, I don’t care now. You think I want to read your bullshit? I. Don’t. Fucking. Care. Now, for the last time—because if I have to do this again, Mackenzie, it won’t be pretty or civil—you need to leave. I have th
e worst case of blue balls to settle, and I’d like you gone before I get started.”
Even though I have tears streaming down my cheeks, he turns his back on me and slams the door in my face. I stand there in shock, silent tears and sobs wracking my body. When the women’s moans grow loader, I tighten my grip on the stack and spin on my heels. I toss it onto his breakfast bar and sprint out of there. I run past Dan, past the security, and take the elevator all the way down. I fall into the corner. Loud, ragged sobs fill the small space as I cry for everything I’ve lost.
I cry for the man I thought I knew. I cry until I have nothing left.
People watch me warily as I exit the resort. I walk off, down the long entryway, and order an Uber. I don’t bother waiting. The quicker I’m away from Sebastian and off his property, the better I’ll feel.
After I’m done feeling sorry for myself, and I’ve had a good cry, I throw my plan into motion. I pay for a rental I’ll need for the drive to Ferndale. I head to the hardware store and purchase a shovel.
With shaking hands, I open my laptop, fear snaking its way through my veins as I open my email. Tomorrow night, I can either find the truth, or I can find nothing. Either way, what I have written is incriminating in and of itself, and someone needs to read it. Someone needs to have it. And since that person isn’t Baz like I hoped it would be, I have to make peace with it.
I open a new email and attach the file, hating that after all the ignoring I’ve done, they’re my last hope. I don’t know what I’ll find, but I need someone to have it. I need someone to understand. And sadly, even though I’ve never treated them like real friends, I only have Kat and Vera left. I type out a quick message that brings tears to my eyes.
Before you read the attached document, I need you both to know that without you, I would’ve crumbled. For so long, I thought I was alone, but it’s always been you two. I’m sorry I haven’t been the greatest friend or the greatest person, but please, I need someone to read this, just in case the chance is taken away from me.
I hit send on the email with the doc attached and close my eyes. I look around the room and smile sadly, wishing Madison could give me an inspiring speech, but she’s been radio silent since the coordinate discovery.