Warm liquid covers my skin as if someone is pouring buckets of water all over me. I could be drowning or on fire. Honestly, it all feels the same. Thankfully, my eyes fall closed, and I openly welcome the darkness. Accepting your death is the most peaceful part.
My hand tightens,pulling back the throttle as I adjust myself on the bike, getting ready for a set of curves coming up when I speed past something white that I catch out of the corner of my eye. I pull on the front-brake lever so hard that my back tire comes off the pavement, putting me in a front wheelie—stoppie—position. Once the back comes down and touches the pavement, I spin it to turn tightly in the road. I speed back and come to a stop when I see the back of the Rolls Royce Cullinan parked in the center of a dead-end gravel road. I park behind the SUV. Getting off my bike, I walk up to it. It’s still running, and the driver’s side door is open. Looking inside, I see a purse in the passenger seat. I know this SUV. I’ve seen it countless times on the Carnage cameras. It’s Charlotte’s. I grab her purse and start going through it. Feminine products, lip gloss, a mirror…everything looks to be there except for a cell phone and wallet.
Where the fuck did she go, and what the fuck is she doing out here of all places?
Getting out, I remove my cell from my pocket and call Adam. He answers on the first ring.
“What’s up, man?”
“Four years ago…we had the meeting with that detective at the house of Lords,” I remind him as if he could forget.
He’s silent for a second, and his voice goes cold when he asks, “What about it?”
“The missing high school girl…they found her BMW? What were the details of the scene?” I ask, looking over Charlotte’s SUV. It seems oddly familiar.
He sighs. “The news report said it was found on the side of the road. Abandoned. No girl, no phone, and no purse. It was still running, and the driver’s side door was wide open.”
The rumor was Adam was the last one to see the driver of that car. He was being set up to look like he killed the senior cheerleader among other women who had gone missing.
“Why all the sudden interest?” he asks.
“I just found a car, and it’s similar.”
“Similar how?” Adam demands.
“Abandoned on the side of the road, still running, driver’s side door wide open. But there’s a purse in the passenger seat. No cell or wallet, though.”
“Send me the picture of the car, including the license plate.”
Placing him on speakerphone, I step back and take a picture, sending it to him. “Done.” Charlotte’s been calling me, but I’ve ignored her. Just like Kashton and Ashtyn.
Seeing her SUV here, so close to my house tells me I’m not getting the privacy I want. And it makes me think she set this up. It wasn’t a secret what happened to those women. None of them were connected to the Lords—except a single picture that showed Adam and Ashtyn’s mother with one of them—so thelocal news was covering the disappearance of the bleach-blond cheerleader who went missing before it went viral and made national headlines. And she wasn’t the only one. If I remember correctly, it was around twenty.
“Got it. I’ll see what I can find out.” He hangs up.
I immediately call Charlotte. It goes straight to voicemail, so I leave a short message and hang up, return to my bike, and head back to the house, needing to figure out what my next move is.
ANNABELLE
I findmyself driving back toward the house that I was running from yesterday. I was arrested and had to call someone. I avoided calling my mother because she’ll ask too many questions. I’m still unsure what happened. I was thrown into a cell and was granted one phone call. I chose Wesley. He was the only option I had. My fake friends would judge me, and I can’t afford to jeopardize that situation. Plus, it gave Wesley a reason to be there for me. To make us feel closer.
Turns out, he didn’t have to bail me out. I was just in holding. Who the fuck knew? I sure didn’t. I’ve never been in that situation before. He took me home and ran me a bath. The tight cuffs left bruises on my wrists. I have a knot on the side of my head from it hitting the hood. The police officer’s fingers left bruises on my upper arm when he dragged me from my car to his.
Wesley wants to sue the police. I laughed. Men like him think the system is broken. If he only knew the Lords existed, he’d see just how fucked he truly is.
Wesley stayed the night with me. Last night after my bath, he took me to get my SUV, and while he cooked me breakfast thismorning, I turned my cell on and had one message. It was from Haidyn.
“Ten o’clock tomorrow. I’ll text you the address.” He didn’t even bother to say his name. Not like he had to. I recognized his voice the moment I pressed play.
Was it coincidence or luck that he wanted to see me all of a sudden? I’m thinking the latter. But it’s not like I can turn him down.
Pulling up to the gates that I sat at yesterday morning, I punch in the code that he sent me with the address, and it opens. The house comes into view. The pictures I saw don’t do it justice. It’s much bigger in person and too pretty to be hidden in the woods.
Coming to a stop, I turn off my car and get out. Walking up the steps to the front double doors, I knock.
One of them swings open, and I look up to see Haidyn standing there. I’ve never seen him outside of Carnage other than in the photos the Lords gave me. He’s got a white towel wrapped around his neck draped over his broad shoulders, dressed in a T-shirt with the sleeves cut off and gray sweatpants. Judging by his wet hair and sweat covered forehead, I’d say I interrupted his workout. So he either forgot I was coming or didn’t give a fuck.
“Haidyn.” I nod, and he steps to the side. “Thank you,” I mumble, entering the house and running my hand through my hair. I wore it down today to try to put on more makeup than usual for daytime wear to cover my bruises. Thankfully, my eyes aren’t swollen.
