by Nicole Fox
And I’m alone.
I roll over to look for Finn, hoping for his comforting presence to help me make sense of everything, but the room is empty.
His phone is on the nightstand, but the blankets on his side of the bed are pushed back and the door is open.
Thinking he just went to the bathroom, I lie there and wait. I try not to think about the dream. About what I saw. What I remembered.
Dr. Sharon has told me that the memories of that night are locked away inside my mind, but I refused to believe it.
Of course, the thought that Finn could have known more about my attack has crossed my mind. Nico Barber was rich and went to Ravenlake Prep. They were friends. Teammates.
But I convinced myself Finn couldn’t have been there because, if he had been, I would have remembered him. He would have stood out to me in any crowd. My eyes would have been drawn to him first.
So, it couldn’t be true. He couldn’t have been there that night.
No way. No fucking way.
But the longer I think on it, the more doubt begins to sour my stomach.
After a few minutes, I roll out of bed and pull on my panties, the running shorts I packed in my duffel bag, and Finn’s hoodie. My mouth is dry, and I can’t lie still in the bed anymore.
I need to move.
Finn’s blinds are partially open. When I stand up, movement outside the window catches my eyes.
I walk over and look out.
The view is over the side of the property, looking down on a grassy hill and the smaller houses below it. I can also see a portion of the driveway, and that is where the movement came from.
I can see Finn standing outside.
Talking to the Hell Princes.
My heart stutters in my chest. I grab my phone from the nightstand to check the time.
It is well after two a.m. Finn shouldn’t be out there talking to six Hell Princes alone. He doesn’t even have his shoes on.
By the looks of it, he doesn’t want to be there. He is wearing a deep frown, his arms are crossed over his chest, and he is glowering.
I can only see the Hell Princes from the back, but they are lined up in front of him, partially blocking his path back to the front door, and there is no one out there with him. No one to help.
Just as I’m trying to decide what I should do, I see one of the Hell Princes reach into his pocket and pull something out. He holds it in his palm behind his back, and then with a quick flick of his thumb, there is the flash of a blade.
I grab my phone and call the police immediately.
There isn’t time for more than giving the address and the name of the biker gang.
“The Hell whats?” the operator asks.
“The Hell Princes,” I repeat frantically. “A fight in the driveway of William Foster’s house. Get here now.”
I hang up, pull my sneakers on, and then run to Finn’s top drawer. I rifle through his underwear, tossing aside socks, a bag of cocaine, and the biggest wad of cash I’ve ever seen to find what I hoped would be hiding underneath it all: a knife.
Boys like Finn don’t cause the kind of trouble he causes without having a few weapons lying around. A gun would be nice, but I don’t even know how to fire one. This will have to do.
So, I tuck the knife into the large hoodie pocket and run down the stairs.
I take the back stairs that lead to the kitchen. From there, I slip through the patio door, tiptoe around the side of the house, and approach from the corner behind the Hell Princes. That way, I can catch Finn’s eye and maybe get some direction on what I should do.
If he wants me to go wake up everyone in the house, I will.
If he wants me to run, I will.
If I need to run and throw him the knife, I’ll do that too.
I’ll do whatever I need to do to keep him safe until the police get here.
I poke my head around the corner of the house and wave an arm, trying to catch his attention, but his eyes are glued on the bikers in front of him.
I step out further, hoping to catch something of their conversation, just a few words to give me an idea of what is going on. Of whether I should call the operator back and have the police stand down.
But they are too far away.
I step out from the safety of the house entirely, edging towards the circle of light shining down from above the garage doors.
And finally, Finn turns towards me, eyes wide and horrified.
Then, hands grab me from behind.
I open my mouth to scream, but a hand clamps down over my lips. The palm is salty and hot.
I thrash, throwing elbows and kicking back with my feet to try and get some space between me and the unknown body.
“Calm down,” a rough male voice barks in my ear, angry and loud. “You already ruined my entrance. Don’t ruin my pants, too.”
At the sound of that voice, there is a phantom of recognition in the back of my mind. A tickle of a memory I can’t seem to grab.
But it’s gone as I’m dragged forward towards the bikers and Finn, who has gone deathly still and completely blank.
“I’d hoped we’d have a chance to talk before the girl got involved, but she never did seem to know when to mind her own business, did she?” the man holding me says.
“Let her go,” Finn says, rolling his eyes and looking off down the driveway, bored.
On command, the hands holding me let go and then shove me from behind.
I stumble forward, fall, but catch myself on my hands, skinning my palms slightly. I barely even feel the sting of the broken skin as I make my way to Finn.
I reach for him, on the verge of tears, but he pulls away.
I study his face for a second, trying to understand his motives, but his expression is stoic, unemotional.
Then, I turn towards the bikers facing him, and that is when I see him.
The man I’m looking at is set apart from the group, standing closer to me and Finn than anyone else.
He looks exactly like I remember him. Dark hair, curly on top with the sides buzzed short, and his nose bent just slightly in the middle, favoring the right side of his face.
The man’s smile, however, is the same one I’ve seen in all of my flashbacks.
The same one I’ve had nightmares about, leering over me in the park before everything goes dark.
It’s Nico Barber.
40
Lily
“What are you doing here?” Finn asks. “I thought you were in England somewhere.”
“Denmark, actually,” Nico says. “But you wouldn’t know that, would you? Considering I didn’t hear a word from you after all that shit went down.”
I turn to Finn, waiting for him to explain, but he is refusing to look at me. His eyes are locked on Nico’s.
The dream I’d been having just before waking up comes back to me—the image of Finn standing alongside Nico in the park the night of The Incident—but I push it away.
It’s not true.
It can’t be.
“I’m sure you know what I’m talking about, Lily DeVry,” Nico says, turning his attention to me. “You were there, after all.”
I lift my chin and force my chin to quit wobbling. “You attacked me.”
Nico nods. “That does seem to be how you remember it. Mine was the only name you gave to police. Why was that? Was it because I was the only one there? That’s not quite right, is it?”
I blink at him, wishing I could be anywhere else.
Doing anything else.
Deep in my gut, I know what he is going to say next. But I’m not ready for it.
“You aren’t here because of her,” Finn says. “You’re all here to talk to me. So talk.”
Nico ignores Finn. “Answer me, sweetheart. Was I the only one you saw? Was I the only one you could identify from pictures?”
My silence is an answer in itself.
Nico chuckles. Finally, he turns to Finn. “You never told her about your participation in th
at night’s festivities?”
“Fuck you!” he spits.
Finn’s shout surprises me.
I flinch.
Nico just laughs.
“You know,” Nico continues, “when I heard from some of the people in this town who were still talking to me that you were shacking up with the girl who ratted me out, I hoped maybe you were doing it in revenge. I thought maybe we were still friends even though you and all the other Golden Assholes hung me out to dry after I took the fall for you all. But now that I see you together, it’s obvious this situation has nothing to do with me.”
“So, you’re friends with the Hell Princesses now?” Finn sneers. When Nico narrows his eyes, Finn holds up his hands in innocence. “Hey, you’re the one who came up with that nickname. It isn’t exactly clever, but it certainly gets a rise out of the leather-clad crowd.”
The bikers all bristle at the insult. Violence is radiating off of them.
I want to tell Finn to shut up and stop antagonizing them, but I’m not really sure whose side he is on.
Because if what Nico is saying is true, then he certainly isn’t on mine.
“I ran into Rick and Casey the night I spent in jail,” he says, hitching a thumb over his shoulder at two bikers standing behind him. “They got into a bit of trouble that night, too, but unlike me, their friends came to bail them out.”
Finn lowered his head. “We were lying low.”
“So was I. In Demark. For six months,” Nico barks, his top lip pulled back in disgust. “I’m supposed to be there now, actually, but when I heard you were responsible for almost killing one of my new brothers, I hopped on a plane and came home for the weekend. I didn’t want to miss you getting what you deserve.”
Nico turns to me, eyes sparkling with mischievous amusement. “I wouldn’t have dared to hope I’d get to run into the girl who started it all, too. What a treat.”
Suddenly, Finn shifts in front of me, his shoulder blocking my view. “Leave her alone.”
“’Leave her alone,’” Nico says, voice high-pitched and mocking. “That isn’t what you said that night in the park. As I recall, your words were, ‘Take care of her.’”
I gasp. Finn looks back over his shoulder at me.
There is pain on his face as he whispers, “I can explain.”
“Explain what? You were there!” My voice is hoarse from disuse, and my throat is thick with unshed tears. “You knew all along who I was and why I was afraid, and you …”
The memory of us at the park a week ago, of him holding me and telling me not to be afraid, comes back, but this time, it is twisted and warped.
I clap a hand over my mouth to stop from screaming.
“God, you took me back there! What is wrong with you?”
“Too much to get into right now,” Finn says. “But you have to trust me.”
I step away from him. “No. No, I don’t.”
It never made sense why Finn was fixated on me. Why I was different from other girls in the school.
But now it makes perfect sense.
He was there that night. I showed up and ruined their fun assaulting that poor girl, so they beat me up bad enough to put me in a coma.
Then, when I woke up, I went to the police and got their friend in trouble.
I was supposed to do what everyone else in this town does and ignore them. They are rich and privileged, and I was supposed to keep my mouth shut.
But I didn’t. And Finn wanted to punish me for that.
As though my stay in the hospital wasn’t enough.
As though physical therapy and flashbacks and nightmares weren’t punishment enough.
“Enough with the lovers’ quarrel,” Nico says, waving his arms. “We’re here to get even. You hurt Dallas, and we came here to hurt you. But now, here she is …”
A deep, low sound rumbles out of Finn. “You aren’t going to touch her.”
Nico clicks his tongue in mock disappointment. “Actually, I’m afraid I am. Several of us might, in fact.”
“No,” Finn says. “You aren’t.”
Nico opens his mouth to respond, but before he can, a car turns down the top of the driveway, illuminating us all with the headlights.
We all squint towards the car.
It is only when it turns perpendicularly in the drive that I can see it is a police cruiser.
“Finally,” I breathe in relief.
The officer—Ingram, I think his name is; he’s the one who stopped Finn and I during our hookup in the car not too long ago—rolls down his window and assesses the gathering with narrowed eyes. “Is everything okay down here, folks?”
I blurt out first. “No, it’s not.”
I start towards him, ready to explain everything and beg for help.
But before I get there, Finn holds out his arm to stop me.
“Wait. Something isn’t—”
“All good,” Nico says to the officer amicably, like they’re old buddies. “Just taking care of business, like I said.”
Officer Ingram takes in the group again, his eyes falling on me and Finn, before he gives a thumbs-up to Nico.
“Fine,” he says. “But make sure the girl doesn’t call the station again. I took this call, but I can’t guarantee I’ll get the next one.”
My stomach drops. Finn curses under his breath.
And I feel like the world is tipping upside down.
No one is going to save us.
No one is going to help.
Ingram slowly rolls his window back up. I watch with baffled horror as his car lights disappear down the driveway.
We’re fucked.
“I think you’re the one who has it wrong,” Nico says. His eyes are locked on me like a predator on prey. “You are sleeping with the person who caused all of this. Who hurt you and hurt Dallas. He tricked you, and now you are confused and don’t know who to trust, but you can trust me.”
“Don’t,” Finn barks. I’m not sure if he is talking to me or Nico. “Don’t talk to her, you psycho.”
“I’m a psycho?” Nico asks, hand pressed to his chest. “I’m a psycho because why? Because I’m the one who got caught? Because I’m mad that the person who was supposed to be my best friend bailed on me? That makes me psycho?”
“No, hurting innocent people makes you a psycho,” Finn snaps.
Nico spins around to the bikers behind him, all of them laughing.
The moment his eyes are off mine, Finn turns to me. His eyes are wide, panicked, and he tips his head to the right, clearly telling me to run.
When Nico turns around, Finn stops looking at me. I realize all at once that it doesn’t matter who is telling the truth.
The only person I can trust here is myself.
“It’s funny because you were the one who taught me how to manipulate people,” Nico says, taking another step towards where Finn and I are standing. “You are the one who told me to go after your little girlfriend there, and now you’re protecting her.”
“You almost killed her,” Finn snaps. “That wasn’t the plan. You went too far.”
“And you didn’t? Dallas has been breathing through a tube for weeks now, you fuck. That’s not too far?”
“I didn’t do that. He did it to himself.”
Nico shrugs, laughs, scowls, a million different emotions at once.
Then he springs forward.
The next few seconds pass in a blur.
Nico pulls a knife out of his pocket.
Finn lunges forward, shoving me out of the way and towards the house.
He yells for me to run just as Nico yells for the bikers to get Finn.
Everything is screaming and movement and chaos, and the only thing I can think to do is turn and run.
I can’t trust anyone else, but I can trust myself. I can trust my two legs.
So I run.
41
Lily
Running started as a way for me to run away from my problems. And that has never been more true
than right now.
Right now, I’m running to save my life.
And hopefully, Finn’s, too.
Regardless of what the truth is, I don’t want him to die. Not like this. Not over something he didn’t even do.
I believe he didn’t hurt Dallas.
I have to believe it.
I lower my head, pull my arms in close, and run for the back of the house. I’d prefer to take the road and run on even ground, but I need to steer clear of the road in case the officer is out there waiting to see how this all plays out. The last thing I need is him picking me up and bringing me back.
So, I run through the lawn and then down the hill towards the tree line. The ground gets more uneven the further I get from the house, but I try to plant my feet firmly and solidly. If I roll an ankle, that’s it, I’ll be gone.
There is so much noise behind me. Shouting and cursing and fists hitting human bodies.
Surely, everyone inside the house has heard the noise by now, too. Hopefully. Because if Finn is fighting off all the bikers on his own, it won’t be much of a fight. It will be over before I even reach the tree line.
I push the thought from my mind. I can’t worry about Finn. Not now.
I have to focus on my own safety and figure everything else out later.
As soon as I arrive at the trees, I feel like I’ve made it. Like I’m safe.
Once the dark is full and thick around me, I stop to try and decide which way I should go. I know there are neighbors in front of Finn’s house, but I don’t think anyone lives on the hill behind it.
I’ll have to wrap around the house through the trees and come out on the road, keeping an eye out for the officer.
All of these thoughts and plans are swirling through my head.
And then I hear the footsteps approaching.
Fast, heavy footfalls. Someone is running towards me.
My eyes are adjusting to the dark slowly, so I can’t look to see who it is, and I don’t care. I’m not waiting around to find out.
I start moving deeper into the darkness, stepping as lightly as I can. Even still, branches and twigs snap on my arms and legs. My skin burns with small scratches, and rocks poke through the thin soles of my sneakers, but I keep going.