by Sherry Soule
“That is the one thing all my haters have in common, a connection to Hayden.” I sigh. “Can I ask you guys something about the farewell party?”
“What?” Tanisha sticks her hand into the box, pulling out a handful of chips.
“Neela vanishes right before all the weirdness starts happening, then returns the day before the party…” I pause, kicking my legs in the water. “It can’t be a coincidence, right?”
“Right,” Tanisha says. “So, how do we get her to confess?”
“Well,” I say, “I doubt blackmailing her will work.”
Tanisha scoffs. “Geez, how many times do I have to say sorry?”
“At least a dozen more,” Viola replies, her head turning in my direction. “You’ve gotta let this go, Sloane. The Zeta authorities will figure it out.”
“I know, I know. It’s just, I don’t trust the justice system here,” I say, glancing at the three siblings in the pool laughing and dunking each other. “If it wasn’t Neela, then who could my vacation sabotager be? I don’t even know anybody else here.”
“That’s not true,” Tanisha says. “Besides Neela, you know her mom, her brother Rost, Hayden’s parents, and now Delta. That makes several new people, if we count Neela, since we landed.”
“And you’re thinking it might be one of them?” Viola asks.
Tanisha tilts her head to look at me. “None of those people like you.”
“We can cross Delta off our hypothetical suspect list,” I say. “She has no reason to be hating on me.”
“That leaves Neela, Rost, the Lancasters, and Mrs. Voorhees,” Viola says.
“I doubt Hayden’s parents are responsible,” I say. “They might not like me, but they’re not the type to stoop to such juvenile lengths to get me out of their son’s life.”
“Juvenile, yet life-threatening,” Viola corrects. “Except you’re probably right. I can’t see them pulling off any of those stunts. They’re more a hire-a-hitman types.”
“Not making me feel better,” I mumble. “What about Neela’s mom?”
“Mrs. Voorhees is a tigress,” Tanisha says, “but I’m not sure she’s as crazy as her husband, who I hear she is now divorcing.”
“That narrows it down to Rost and Neela,” I say. “I’ve hardly seen Rost.”
“He’s anti-social and keeps to himself,” Tanisha says.
“Reminds me of someone else I know,” I say, gazing at my brother with his face hidden behind a hardback.
“And Rost is, like twenty-five,” Tanisha continues. “He doesn’t usually hang with high schoolers. Excluding, his sister, of course.”
“Anti-social or not, Rost did attack Hayden,” I say. “We can’t rule him out.”
Zach pulls himself out of the pool with his muscular arms, dripping water everywhere. Viola shrieks in laughter and shoves him to the side. He chuckles and goes to a lounge chair where he left his beach towel to dry off.
Next, Hayden climbs out and dries off, leaving Delta alone in the pool. She clambers onto a floating raft and reclines with her eyes closed. Her skin is so milky-white I worry that she’ll get a painful sunburn. I’m about to offer her sunblock when a clamor echoes from the front of the house.
“What was that?” Viola asks, twisting around.
“I have no idea,” I say. “My mom’s at the beach painting and my dad’s golfing with friends.”
Someone pounds on the front door. Everyone on the patio, except Delta in the pool, turns to peer through the windows into the house. Even Jonah raises his head and lowers his book.
“I’ll get it.” Hayden wraps a towel around his shoulders, looking like a hunky lifeguard in a teen movie and goes inside the house.
“Where is she?” someone yells.
Viola jumps up and hurries to the open glass slider. Tanisha goes to join her, and Zach ambles over.
“What’s going on?” Zach asks.
Viola shrugs. “Boys fighting.”
They stare through the wall of glass that separates the outdoor patio from the living room. More shouting rings out. I pull my legs out of the water and stand, rushing to my friends. No one goes into the house, instead we stand outside and watch the drama unfold from a safe distance. The front door is open behind Hayden and Neela’s weird brother, Rost.
He shoves Hayden in the chest. “Where’s my sister?”
“Chill out,” Hayden replies. “Neela’s not here, and please don’t tell me she’s pulling another lame-ass disappearing act.”
Zach storms inside the house. “Hey, what’s going on?”
They ignore him and continue bickering.
“Don’t tell me to chill out!” Rost kicks the door, the metal swinging on its hinges into the wall with a bang. “You can’t just walk all over people,” he shouts, the veins on his forehead bulging. “My sister has feelings!”
Huh. Rost is usually so quiet, but today he looks ready to throw down.
“Is that family ever going to move on?” Viola says.
“Not likely,” Tanisha replies.
“I have told you and your crazy family the same thing repeatedly,” Hayden says. “I’m sorry if I hurt Neela, but it’s over. Done.”
“Not for her it isn’t,” Rost replies. “You need to talk to Neela before she does something stupid again.”
Hayden shakes his head. “She’s not my problem. Plus, she tried to kill Sloane!”
“No she didn’t!” Rost says, advancing on him. “This is the last time I’m going to ask nicely. Where is my sister?”
“Screw you,” Zach growls. “She’s not here. Why don’t you check with the cops? She’s probably lounging in a holding cell.”
Rost takes a swing at Hayden, but he ducks to dodge the blow.
Then Zach pulls his arm back and hits his mark. The crack of his fist against Rost’s jaw resonates like a bat striking a baseball. Rost swivels but doesn’t fall. “That’s for attacking my brother on Earth,” Zach spats.
Rost is just straightening when my mom rushes through the front door carrying a messenger bag and an easel.
“Whoa! What’s going on here?” My mom sets her stuff on the floor against the wall.
“I came by to speak to Hayden,” Rost replies, spittle flying from his mouth. “And his brother hit me.”
“Zach wouldn’t strike someone without good reason,” my mom says in a reprimanding tone. “What seems to be the problem?”
Rost’s eyes look glassy. “I was looking for Neela.”
My mom moves beside Hayden and Zach. “Well, she’s not here and you’re not welcome in my home. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
Rost rubs his jaw, but doesn’t move.
“Zach, please apologize to Rost,” my mom orders.
Zach turns to Rost, who starts inching to the doorway. To his credit, Zach doesn’t gloat. “Sorry, man,” he says. “And just an FYI, stay the hell away from my friends and family.”
In a huff, Rost strides outside.
Hayden slams the door closed behind him. “What a douche!”
My mom shakes her head, yet smiles. “Now, Hayden.”
“What? He’s right,” I say, stepping through the slider and into the room.
Tanisha and Viola follow me inside to stand near Zach, who shakes out his hand, his knuckles bruised.
My mom grabs the easel and bag. “I’m going to my room. No more visitors, got it?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Hayden says.
She casts a stern look in my direction. “No leaving this house, young lady.” My mom walks to her bedroom.
“There’s just too much damn drama for one small planet,” Tanisha says.
“Amen to that,” Viola says. “The Voorhees family are a bunch of whiny bitches.”
Tanisha, Zach, and Viola go back outside to the pool while Hayden and I linger in the house.
“This must be rough on you,” I say.
“Me? You’re getting your fair share of crap because of my broken engagement.” Hayden sighs.
“No one’s pushing me off boats or sabotaging my Water-Glider.”
“True, but you did almost get punched in the face,” I say. “Neela hates me, but she might hate you less. I have a vision of her writing a screenplay entitled, Sloane Masterson Must Die.”
His soft laugh makes me smile. Then his expression turns serious. Hayden’s warm gaze burns into me, and we’re lost for a moment staring at each other. My skin heats as a fervent pulsing electricity flows between us like an invisible current. I can’t ignore the fiery intensity that’s always connected us.
“Do you want to get out of here for awhile?” he asks in a husky voice.
“Can’t,” I say. “I’m on lockdown.”
Stepping closer, Hayden rubs my arms with his hands and lowers his head. “You could sneak away. Tell your mom you’re going to take a nap and teleport outside.”
“You’re naughty.”
He kisses the tip of my nose. “I just need to be alone with you,” he whispers, his sexy stare holding me captive.
Another flare of heat courses through my body and I lick my lips. “Oh, okay…”
“Meet me at the beach near the pier and we’ll go for a sunset stroll just the two of us. You’ll be back before anyone suspects a thing.” Hayden leans in, placing his mouth over mine, and gives me a lingering kiss. A rush of desire floods my chest, making my heart throb. “I’ll see you soon.”
He slips out the front door and I stand there a second, my lips tingling from his kiss. A grin overtakes my features. That smokin’ hot man wants to marry me. Hayden’s my version of the elusive manicorn.
I go into my bedroom and open a dresser drawer to take out the small box Hayden gave me. Prying open the lid, I slip the sapphire jewel onto the ring finger onto my left hand. My hands cup my aching cheeks. If my smile spreads any wider, I’ll resemble the Joker.
I traipse outside to the pool, and pull Viola aside. “I’m going for a walk on the beach with Hayden.”
“Your mom said not to leave the house.”
“I’ll be fine. Hayden won’t let anything happen to me.”
She smiles. “Sloane, that boy is so in love with you, poets should write cheesy sonnets about it.”
“I won’t be gone long. Only a couple of hours.”
“Are you really going to marry him?”
Gazing down at the ring on my finger, I’m still smiling goofily, unable to speak past the lump of emotion welling up in my throat.
“I knew it!” Viola laughs in a self-satisfied way.
“Not right away. We can commit to waiting a year or two,” I say. “Can you cover for me?”
Viola gives me a quick hug. “Yes. Be careful and have fun.”
Going inside, I tell my mom I have a headache and I’m going to take a nap. I feel sorta bad about lying, but she’ll never let me leave the house otherwise. I don’t understand how God can have Ten Commandments for the whole world, but my mom can have a hundred and thirteen just for me. Besides, I’ll be back before she even knows I’m gone and I’ll be safe with Hayden for a couple of hours at a public beach.
I change out of my swimsuit and slip on funky, pink fishnet stockings with a black mini-skirt and a vintage band T-shirt with low-heeled shoes. Next, I apply my makeup, twist one side of my hair with a bobby pin, and spritz on Victoria Secret pear body spray.
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and release it. Then I concentrate on going to the wharf by picturing the location in my mind and imagining myself there. A brilliant sphere of bluish light ripples over my skin and illuminates the room. The power pulses and vibrates around my body. The temperature increasing inside my core burns from the inside out. Thunderous noise fills the space as my body goes weightless, and every cell dissolves into atoms. In a wink, I rematerialize at the beach.
Ha! I’m becoming a regular teleportation badass.
I glance around, my steps light in a silly, head-in-the-rom-com-clouds girly-ness. Hayden’s not here yet, so I sit and wait on a wooden bench facing the ocean. I lift my hand and gaze at the sparkling gem on my finger.
As the sunlight drops below the horizon and twilight arrives, the darkening sky tinges with gold, red, and orange hues. The waves roar and hiss onto the shore. The air holds the scent of bamboo, white freesia, and even a touch of coconut.
Footsteps thud behind me, and I turn with a smile expecting Hayden.
Standing, my heart vaults into my throat. Two dark hooded figures rush me. Before I can fight off the hooded person closest to me, a black cloth slips over my head. As I struggle with my attacker, I’m yanked backward off my feet. Swirls of rushing winds and azure glows surround my body as I’m sucked into teleportation.
THIRTY-ONE
When my attacker and I reappear in another location, I instinctively strike at my assailant, but someone grasps my arms and slaps handcuffs on my wrists. I kick out, and end up being slammed to the ground, my ankles secured with shackles connected by a short chain linking them together, like the ones prisoners wear. My heart races, my ears ringing. I tug at the restraints binding my wrists in front of me. Then try wiggling out of the ankle-cuffs. Zero freedom. I don’t know what I’m shackled with—titanium?—but it isn’t budging.
Someone grips my arms, helps me stand, and pulls me along—more like drags me—so fast I stumble to keep up. The ground shifts beneath my feet like sand.
“These are titanium cuffs,” a muffled voice says. “Don’t even consider teleporting.”
Just awesome. I guessed correctly. Ding-ding! First prize goes to Sloane.
Titanium is the Meleah’s equivalent of Kryptonite. Now I can’t teleport and escape these psychos. Major bummer.
And I cannot believe I’ve been kidnapped. Again.
Who has this much bad luck? Me apparently.
“Is this Neela?” I ask, my shoes filling with grainy pebbles. It’s hard to walk with these ankle-cuffs. I shuffle along like a convict being transported to a new cell. “Where am I? Why are you doing this?”
The cloth bag over my head makes it hard to breathe. I wince in pain as the titanium shackles slice into my skin as I try to walk, the ground shifting under my weight. I must be on a beach somewhere.
“Shut up, weirdo,” a female voice snaps.
I thrash ineffectually. “Hey! No need for name calling. But thanks for the compliment.”
“You do not wish to oppose me, shalinaya.”
“Hell yeah I do, you chickenshit.” I try to wiggle off the sack from my head. “Bring it on, Neela! Remove this bag and undo these shackles, and it’s game on.”
“I am not Neela,” the girl—not a woman—says, sounding young and somewhat familiar, but my panic is so great I cannot place the voice with a face.
One thing I do know…it sure isn’t high-pitched whiny Neela.
My stomach spasms, my breakfast tumbling like it’s inside a salad spinner. If not jealous, needy Neela, then who else has joined the Sloane-haters club?
Another muffled voice, higher in pitch, says something I can’t understand. Then I’m pushed forward and I stagger into a thorny bush. The barbs scratch my skin and the handcuffs bite into my wrists. I whimper like a puppy who’s been scolded with a rolled-up newspaper. My jailer grips my left arm and drags me along.
My kidnapper could be Neela’s mother and her brother, Rost. It makes sense. He hates Hayden and me, and the Voorhees family is loyal only to each other. I clutch my chest, feeling like someone shoved hot coals behind my breastbone. Maybe Rost hopes that by getting rid of me that my disappearance will send Hayden sniveling into Neela’s open arms. Blech.
And maybe it was Neela’s brother who shoved me off the boat. The siblings could’ve been behind every one of my attacks. Right now I bet Neela is cooking up a believable alibi so she’s not implicated in my kidnapping while Rost does most of her dirty work. These two wacky kids have been trying to kill me, and now I’ve been taken to a remote location so they can finish the job.
If I’m late to meet Hayden, he’ll
just think I couldn’t sneak out. No one at my house will notice I’m missing for hours or until tomorrow.
Unbe-fricking-lievable. This is my horror movie ending.
I’m pushed up a short flight of stairs and onto rickety wooden planks. The hot and stuffy bag over my head makes me break out in a sweat. Tears prickle my eyes and course down my cheeks, but I lift my chin and sniffle.
“Where are we?” I ask in a trembly voice.
“Be silent.”
“Why did you kidnap me?”
“Stop asking questions.”
“Who are you?”
A heavy sigh. “Not your concern.”
“Seriously?” I say. “Like it’s none of my business who kidnapped me?”
“Yes. Please shut up now.”
“What’s your name? Are you in cahoots with Neela or Rost?”
The person shoves me forward. “Stop! I will not listen to another word out of your mouth. Keep walking.”
“Okay, okay. Don’t get your panties in a bunch.” Moving slowly, I wait ten seconds, before asking, “But why can’t I know who you are?”
A sharp shove on my spine. “Move.”
My shoulder hits a corner and I suck in a sharp breath. We tread further through a room or hallway, it’s hard to tell, and stop. Hinges on a door or cabinet squeak open.
The person laughs. “Hope you enjoy your stay, shalinaya.”
Someone rips off the black cloth covering my head. A rush of cool air hits my face and I draw in a breath. Blinking to orient myself, I twist to catch a glimpse of my assailant. Before I turn, the person pushes me from behind and I go stumbling over an edge, sending me flying through the air.
Down, down, down I fall until my knees crash against the hard stone floor, the jolt vibrating through my body and jarring my teeth. I careen over onto my side, my shoulder and hipbone crashing against cold rock. I sit up, my shoulder throbbing furiously.
Don’t lose your shit, Sloane. Just stay calm and think.
The crypt-like room is dark, the only light coming from the opening above about seven-feet high. Cement walls and floors. Chilly as a freezer. A damp, musty odor mingled with the scent of urine makes my stomach turn.
Is there anything more yuck-o?