“What are you doing? You shouldn’t be here.” He sounds stressed. Panicked.
I get out of the car, flinching as raindrops pummel my face. “What happened?” I yell.
“I don’t know, just saw this car hydroplane off the road.”
I try to run toward you, but he grabs my arm. “You should go home, Harlow.” He says the name harshly, a warning. A reminder.
“That’s my sister,” I yell, meeting his gaze.
“Your sister?” he frowns. “Funny, I don’t remember Harlow Hayes having a sister…” His tone is icy, challenging.
Rage battles with my panic and desperation. The mud squelches beneath my feet, and I imagine him beneath me. My foot on his neck, pushing him into the mud to get to you. The urge to crush him, to hear every bone in his slimy neck crunch under my toes, grows stronger with every word that comes out of his mouth.
I shake Sam off. I’ll deal with him later. Right now, I need to help you. But when I take a step around him, dead leaves crunching beneath my feet, he blocks me.
“This,” he says, gesturing to your car, “is just an accident. Do you understand?”
It was an accident. I’ll take care of it. Do you understand?His words from three years ago echo in my ears again.
“We had a deal, goddammit!” He grabs me tighter this time as I try to move away from him, fingers bruising my arm. “You know what you signed up for. Don’t act all sad now, when for the past three years you let her think you were dead.”
I look over at your mangled car, picturing your body lying limp and lifeless, surrounded in a pool of your own blood, before staring back at him, eyes wild with worry.
“And don’t look at me like I’m the bad guy here!” he yells. “I’m the one who made your wildest dreams come true, remember?”
Sam’s eyes flicker from your car back to me. He swallows as if he’s battling with what he really wants to say. I inhale, getting ready for a fight. The silence between us is deafening but then the sound of sirens cuts through the void.
Sam grunts and turns on his heels toward his car, having the decision made for him. I buckle in relief, thankful Jen received my message.
“If she ever breathes a whiff of this to anyone…” Sam yells out his car window.
“She won’t.” I hold his gaze before he disappears into the night.
I run toward the ambulance as it gets closer, guiding them to the site. Once they park, it’s as if everything slows. I watch helplessly as they carry a stretcher and large red medical bag out of the back and then bound toward you. I want to do something, anything, but I’m frozen.
My world silently shatters as they hoist your bloodied and broken body from the car, wondering if your death is my punishment.
Chapter 43
The sound of beeping and smell of antiseptic greet Naomi as she wakes. She swallows, but her mouth feels like sandpaper. She tries to push herself up, but the aching in her torso thwarts her attempt. It’s like she hasn’t moved in days.
Her mind pings with questions. What happened? Where is she? And then she remembers. The rain. The slick road. The car speeding up behind her. Hitting the turn too fast. Hydroplaning off the road and crashing into the trees.
She doesn’t remember anything after that, but she remembers everything before. Arriving at Harlow Hayes’ mansion in Maine. Calling out for Faye. Security hauling her away. Sam Brixton.
Her stomach sinks, remembering their exchange. He was lying, she’s sure of it now.
Panic sets in and her rapidly increasing heart rate sets off the monitors. She needs to get out of here. Find her sister. She forces her eyes open, seeing nothing but a blinding white light. And then she hears a familiar, soft voice.
“Naomi?”
Her heart feels like it’s stopped and she waits for the monitor to flatline. But it doesn’t. It continues to beep. She turns to see Harlow Hayes, the white light surrounding her like a halo.
Naomi studies her warm, worried smile, searching her eyes for the truth. Without the heavy makeup her persona usually flaunts on screen, she can finally see it. Then the sheer magnitude of it all hits her. Overwhelming conflicting emotions of betrayal and relief, happiness and anger.
“Faye…” she says shakily, hands trembling with rage, eyes brimming with tears. “What… the… fuck…”
*
