As soon as my gaze landed on Derek, I snapped back to my senses. It wasn’t Charlie in that video; it was Derek, trying to frame Charlie. It was Derek, trying to make me a mess of emotions. It was Derek, about to try to take advantage of the situation.
“I’m fine,” I whispered, wiping away my tears and stumbling back in my heels.
Derek stepped closer. “You’re crying.”
I moved back again, but my heel got caught on an uneven piece of sidewalk, and I tripped backward onto my ass. Derek did nothing to stop me this time as he stepped closer to me until he was at my feet.
My hands stung. They had to be scraped from the fall.
“Stay away from me,” I whispered.
A low chuckle left his mouth, and then he became quiet. “No.”
Before I could stop him, he scooped me up and slapped a hand over my mouth. I screamed into it, biting down on the skin and tasting blood, but he didn’t even react. I kicked and elbowed and punched, doing whatever the hell I could do to get out of the situation.
The more I struggled, the tighter his hold on me became.
One second, he was strutting down the sidewalk with me, and the next, he was throwing me into the trunk of his car. My dress was torn and dirty with brown slush, my hands covered in blood. I landed with a thud.
Almost immediately, I tried to scramble out of the trunk so he couldn’t close it on me. But it suddenly came down hard on my head, knocking me back. My head bounced against the bottom of the trunk, my vision blurring.
The trunk opened again, and I thought I could escape. So, I used all my strength and pushed myself forward toward the light. But the trunk came down on me again, hitting my head, my fingers getting caught.
I hissed in pain and yanked my fingers back, curling up in the back of the trunk and staring up at the darkness. Stars danced in my vision, and my eyes felt heavy. So heavy. They closed on their own.
I tried to open them back up, but I couldn’t. All I could think was that I was going to die.
Derek Easton, the sadistic asshole, was going to kill me.
CHAPTER
FORTY-THREE
CHARLIE
I paced around our living room and peered at my phone again. It had been nearly a half hour since Athena had messaged me about the wine, but I hadn’t received a response that she had gotten it and was on her way home.
Hell, it didn’t even look like she had read it.
Athie usually read my messages immediately, and she always responded.
My stomach twisted into knots, and I swallowed hard. We should’ve left for the party ten minutes ago. While I was fine with not going at all, Athie didn’t like being late. She wouldn’t have gone anywhere else, would she?
When another minute passed and she still hadn’t walked through the front door to our apartment, I picked up my phone and called Heather. Athena had gone over to Heather’s place this morning to get ready.
The phone rang and rang and rang, then eventually went to voicemail.
“Fuck,” I growled, then called Sierra.
It rang twice, and then she answered. “Hello?”
Loud music played in the background. She must be at Radiant. Was Athena there with her? Maybe they had decided to get a drink to calm Athena’s nerves before the party. Honestly, I wanted to believe anything at the moment.
But … I knew something was wrong.
“Sierra, is Athena with you?” I asked.
“What?” she asked. “Hold on. Let me go into the hallway, where it’s quieter.”
