Unlike with Axel, this doesn’t cause pleasure. No, it’s crippling fear that rolls throughout me.
But he doesn’t apply any pressure, simply watching me. Staring into my soul.
“Why are you here?” I ask again.
“I fell in love with the wrong girl. Maxwell didn’t like it and so he took her from me,” William says, his eyes unfocused and bleary.
“What does that mean?” My terror twists to confusion.
William isn’t hurting me, he never has.
In fact…
“You were trying to keep me safe.”
His focus snaps to my face, zeroing in on it. “I told you not to go to the river party, I told you to stay away from all of us. To let it go.” His voicecracks. “But you wouldn’t listen. Just like your brother wouldn’t. Just like Tripp wouldn’t. And then Veronica helped Grayson. Not even the sheriff’s children are protected in a town as broken as ours. It wasn’t long before Maxwell found out.”
The wool is pulled from between us and I examine William in a new light. He is just a boy that was dealt a losing hand. Doing anything he can to bluff his way through it.
He leans forward, and for a horrifying second I think he might kiss me, but he stops centimeters away. “Maxwell sent me here to fuck you. To break you. To use you up before Darius touches you. I need you to act broken. I need you to pretend I did what he asked. Please?” William begs. “He’ll tell everyone what Veronica did. He’ll take her next.”
My vision blurs. “Okay,” I croak.
“And Sunday, I can’t do anything myself. You need to help her. To save her.” His eyes turn glassy, tears he refuses to shed. “Because I know you’re going to make it out of here. The other two brothers won’t let you go without a fight.”
“Veronica?”
He shakes his head. “No, the girl Maxwell took from me.” He shoves something into my hand, before turning away. “Leave that here, hide it.”
“Who? Who am I saving?” I whisper.
“Luna.”
When I open my hand, inside is a key.
22
October 5th
It isn’t long after William leaves that a guard enters.
“Let’s go, it’s time for the show.” The guard drops a loose plastic necklace around me.
A microphone?
Except no noise comes out…is it not on yet?
Attempting to appear distraught, I play my part in the trauma that William was expected to have put me through.
It isn’t hard.
At this point, it could be three in the morning. Or later. Or even earlier.
I wouldn’t have the slightest notion at this point.
Outside of the room, the only source of light is a flickering fluorescent light. It casts my skin in an eerie glow and shines through the purple strands that protrude from my chest. As we walk in the direction of one, we pass another door that is slightly ajar, bright lights coming from inside drawing my attention. Before I can take a closer look, I am shoved further down the dimmed concrete hallway. The loud whirring is ever present. At the end of the corridor he pushes me through a doorway.
I’m not sure what I expect on the other side.
