“Do you . . . have you ever . . . killed the people you drink from?”
Innocent people.
He turned, hurt and worry scribbled into the depths of his eyes, lines creased heavily on his forehead. “Yes, I have.”
His words landed like a kick to the stomach.
But it was ‘I have’, not ‘I do.' Perhaps he used to, but it was in the past. I decided I didn’t need to know. Talking of murdering barbaric people was one thing, it was a whole other thing to know innocent people were killed.
I didn’t want to lose his friendship. I couldn’t stand to hear anything that may sway my feelings.
I could feel his gaze on the side of my face, waiting for a response. I met his eyes with compassion, I wanted to reach over and scoop him into my arms. Instead, I turned my attention to outside the window, watching the sun shimmer against tree leaves, the gentle breeze making them flutter like a kaleidoscope of green wings. And I buried the dark thoughts again to the recess of my mind.
But inevitably I should have known, like all dark thoughts, they’d continue to plague me, raising their heads in the cover of night. I’d wake up soaked in sweat and dread, and eventually they’d need to be purged.
Chapter 52
Trapped
The road was deserted except for one black sedan trailing behind. On one side of the road, trees, thick and thriving, reached up to the sky like an assembly of majestic crowns. On the other charred limbs randomly burst with shoots of green, standing like staunch battle-scarred survivors of a diabolical event, slowly and defiantly reclaiming life. Above, the sky was dimmed by a bank of opaque clouds that had drifted across the sun.
Ethan drove fast, but competently.
Exhausted, I closed my eyes and rested my head back against the seat. My phone vibrated against my hip, I pulled it from my jacket pocket and read a text from a number I didn’t recognise.
The trees had given way to the outskirts of town. I clicked on the text.
‘Shh. We can hear you and we can see you. A life depends on how quiet you are.’
It had to be some kind of joke, I thought, stretching my aching shoulders back, rolling my neck from side to side until it gave a satisfying crack. I read on.
‘We have BJ, and if you want him back unharmed, you have to meet us, ALONE. Don’t tell Ethan. If you say anything to him or anyone else BJ will be killed. Come alone.’
Gravity stole the color from my face, I stared at the screen, hardly believing what I was seeing. It wasn’t be real, this couldn’t be happening. Please let it be a sick joke.
‘We can hear you, we can see you.’
Was the car bugged? It seemed implausible—and yet technology was advanced these days, anyone could access all kinds of devices on the web. We had left the car unlocked at the diner . . .
Ethan must have caught the look on my face. “Who’s it from?” he asked.
I didn’t look at him. I couldn’t. The despair in my eyes would give me away. It was just a joke, I told myself. I kept my head twisted toward the window.
I tried to keep my voice monotone, “Just the girls.” My fingers shook as I typed:
‘Who is this?’
I received an image of BJ tied to a chair, mouth gagged, eyes wide with fear.
I gulped, fear sent my heart spiralling, everything felt out of my control.
Oh god.
“Find a way. You have twenty minutes. You are being watched, as are the rest of them, so don’t try any tricks. If Ethan follows, or if any of them move, BJ dies.”
I was overcome with a sickening panic. I scanned the streets, I couldn’t see anyone obviously looking our way. I checked my side mirror the large black sedan still trailed behind. The windows were tinted so dark I couldn’t see in. Was that them? I thought about telling Ethan to stop the car and grab whoever itwas, but there would be more of them with BJ and they would kill him.
I knew it would be a trap. A death trap. Even if I managed to show Ethan the text, without it being obvious, he wouldn’t let me go.
