I was able to exist in the storm of anger that constantly blew through the walls. However, I eventually found solace with Zoey. Being in her world was like stepping out of the clouds into the sunlight. I could finally breathe after feeling like I was holding my breath for years.
But then she was gone, and I was being smothered again.
I miss her so much.
And I’m not ready to let her go yet.
Not until I make every single person who helped kill her pay.
I’m getting closer. That day I went to the house in the woods with Jason gave me a glimpse of the dangerous world he and his friends live in. I don’t think he’s who killed her, though. And there’s more to what him and his friends are doing than sexually exploiting underage girls. I’ve heard whispers of stuff when Jason and his friends think I’m in a state of unconsciousness.
Words like…
Catch…
Chasing…
Hunt…
“Yeah, I’m just bored,” I reply to Jason as I lower my cup from my mouth, wondering how many of these people here are part of this evil world.
All of them? Or are some totally oblivious?
“This party is pretty fucking lame,” he agrees. He’s in an oddly weird mood tonight. He looks at me, the glow of the fire reflecting in his eyes. “I have to go talk to some people about some business stuff, but once I’m done, we can go to my place.” He places his hand on my neck, indicating exactly what he wants to do with me.
Jason likes rough sex. It’s nothing new to me, but he has scared me a few times when I worried he was going to release my neck.
Vomit burns in my throat at the idea of being with him, but thinking of Zoey, I act compliant and nod.
He grins, kisses me on the cheek, and saunters off toward a group of guys, some of whom I’m pretty sure were there the day I let my soul get shattered.
I watch as they talk for a moment, and then they embark into the trees surrounding the fire and party. I stay where I am at first, wondering what they’re doing.
But then I grow tired of wondering and step forward to follow them, knowing it’s dangerous, yet I’ve apparently become numb to fear.
6
AVA
My eyelids are weighted down as I attempt to force them open. They flutter, but then they won’t budge, so I can’t see. I can barely think, but I canfeel. My senses are alert, like an electric current is flowing through me. Then I feel it, a prick against my skin, like I’ve been stung or a needle has been injected into me.
“This is for your own good,” she whispers. “It’s better not to remember—it’s safer.”
Safe? How can I feel safe when I’m frozen in terror? Paralyzed. I can’t move, can’t see?—
My eyelids fly open, and I suck in a breath of air while trying to sit up. But my body won’t move. Panic soars through me as I struggle to lift my arm and leg. Hell, I’d even settle for one of my toes wiggling. But I’m weighed down… by what?
Slowly, it clicks. It’s been a while since I suffered from sleep paralysis. It used to happen all the time when I was younger, and while I was with Jason, but over the last few months, it has subsided.
It takes all of my effort and willpower to calm the hell down and wait it out, but I manage to do so. Gradually, my mobility returns, and I’m able to sit up in the bed. I roll my eyes and blinkseveral times, then shake out my hands and wiggle my toes, my gaze wandering to the sofa where Clara and Bailey are. Clara is facing the opposite direction of me, but she’s still asleep. Bailey is awake and is staring at me with this look that indicates he needs to go to the bathroom.
I drag my ass out of the bed, ignoring the shakiness in my legs as I grab his leash from off the table and clip it on his collar. I take my phone and a keycard with me as I head out of the room, letting the door click shut behind me. I use the stairs instead of the elevator, and when I step outside, the sunlight burns against my eyes, reminding me of everything that transpired last night.
I groan, pressing the heel of my hand to my throbbing forehead. I need some damn painkillers or else I’ll never be able to get through the day.
As I’m standing in the grassy area that’s near the hotel, waiting for Bailey to find the right spot to go to the bathroom, my phone buzzes from inside my pocket. The noise is like bees in my brain. My fingers tremble as I dig it out, knowing it could be either my mom, Ellis, or Jason. The latter is the worst, but when I see that the phone call is from my mother, I let it go to voicemail.
When Bailey finishes doing his business, I head back toward the hotel. As I reach the parking lot, my phone pings with a text. Since my mother didn’t leave a voicemail, I’m guessing the message is from her. I almost don’t read it, but sometimes the unknown can be even worse than the knowing.
