“I’m—” My voice cracks like I’ve swallowed glass. I clear my throat and swing my legs over the side of the bed, swaying until I steady myself on my desk. Once I’m able to without emptying the contents of my stomach, I scramble for the nearest oversized hoodie on the floor and drag it over my head. The cold air bites at my bare thighs as I stagger toward the door.
“Meg—” My name is shouted as I wrench the door open. Everest freezes, his fist raised and hair disheveled. His green eyes widen, a sharp inhale sucking through his parted lips. For a split second, neither of us speaks, but relief pours into his dark-rimmed eyes. Then, he grabs and hauls me into his chest, one arm around my back, one large hand pinning my ear against his pounding heartbeat.
“You’re here,” he finally sighs, a shudder working through him. I frown, confusion prickling under my skin.
“Where else would I be?” I ask, reaching back to tug my hoodie lower over my ass. I suppose that solves one mystery though. Everest didn’t come back to my room with me, but that doesn’t mean I stumbled back alone. My mind trips over itself, trying to piece together the moments between his study and my bed. My gaze drifts to the next closed door along the hall as if the answer might be etched into the wood grain.
Sobering in an instant, Everest thrusts me back a step, putting me at arm’s length. I watch in real-time as the concern in his gaze is withdrawn, his jaw resetting to a hard clench.
“There was a kidnapping last night. We thought…there are whispers that he might have come back.”
It’s my turn to become frozen on the spot. The pounding in my head ebbs away to become solely concentrated on those words. A kidnapping on campus? Again?
“He?” My throat tightens around the single syllable. “You think it’s Harrison?” Everest’s nostrils flare slightly as if he hates saying the name out loud. As if he suddenly cares.
“Not just me. The police are heading over here after they’ve finished ransacking my house.” A wave of something close to nausea but much more terrifying swims through me and I stagger, grabbing onto the doorjamb. Everest makes a move to catch me but thinks better of it when he sees I’m not going to fall. I just need something to hold me up. Flexing his fingers into fists, his gaze lingers on my legs. “You should get dressed. They might want to take you down to the station.”
Breathing becomes harder. All these months, I’ve been trying to heal. Trying to put the past behind me on some deluded hope that, if I simply erase it out of my mind, it will no longer exist. I was wrong, and now it’s back. He’s back.
My hands start to tremble, nails digging crescents into my palms. The last time I was interrogated by the police, I was wrapped in a blanket that wasn’t mine, sitting in a hospital bed and answering questions I didn’t understand, trying to recall the face of a man who had blurred into shadow. But at least I wasn’t alone. I had someone there to hold my hand, someone I sorely wish I could get a hold of now. A few floors below, a door slams open and boots trample through the lower level of the block. We’re out of time, and my phone is still dead.
“Will you come with me?” I blurt out, grabbing Everest’s hand as he starts to step away. His brows disappear beneath his blond hair, his eyes darting down to where I’m clinging to his fingers. Slowly, almost reluctantly, he withdraws.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Everest swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. That same hand raises to rub the back of his neck, presumably putting it out of reach in case I lunge in desperation again. “It would draw…unwanted attention.” A bitter laugh escapes me.
“And we wouldn’t want my trauma to smear your perfect reputation.” Mock-bowing, I retreat into my room, flinging the door closed. It halts with a thud, which evidently is the sound of wood meeting Everest’s shoe. He sweeps inside my personal space, curling a hand around my nape to stop me from backing away.
“I meant, it would draw unwanted attention to you. If Harrison is back, he’ll be watching the media carefully. The last thing you want is to tip him off to my family’s protection.” My pulse stutters for more than just the fact Everest is once again pressed up against me in my room, his mouth inches away, his eyes boring into mine.
“Do I have your family’s protection?” I breathe the question as the shuffle of movement approaches from down the hall. Everest’s eyes sweep my face for a moment before he retreats, his chest falling from a heavy exhale.
“I’ll hold them off for a few minutes.” Watching Everest leave strikes more panic into me than I was expecting. This is happening, and I’m going to have to endure it alone. Just as he’s about to close the door between us, my delayed thoughts catch up with me.
“Wait. Who was taken?”
Everest pauses and holds my gaze for a loaded second, regret passing over his features.
“Laura Hopkins.”
It’s a mystery how I’m still upright, managing to put one foot in front of the other as I enter the police station. The wire of my phone charger is twisted tight around my fingers, the useless device sitting heavy in the pocket of my sweatpants. The oversized hoodie is still in place, sleeves swallowing my hands, although the officers waiting outside my dorm permitted me five frantic minutes to shower and pull on a bra before escorting me to the car. Five minutes to scrub at my skin like I could wash away last night. Five minutes to stare at myself in the mirror and see a stranger looking back.
Students had gathered around the vehicle as soon as the flashing lights appeared, drawn in like moths to the flame. No one looked relieved to see that I hadn’t been taken last night. Instead, I caught the sideways glances, the subtle narrowing of eyes, the unspoken accusation forming behind them. They believe this is my fault, and I can’t say they’re wrong.
I took Laura to the party. I walked her up those white stone steps. I was supposed to make sure she was safe. No one can make me feel any more shit about the situation than I already do.
The interrogation room is smaller than I expected. More of a side room off the main area, an open blind giving me a view of the officers milling between desks and assessing a white board that displays Laura’s photo. I can’t look at it, or I might burst into tears and crawl beneath the desk to rock back and forth. Ilower myself into the metal chair as indicated, the scrape of it against the linoleum too loud for my tender head.
“Can we get you anything? Coffee or pain relief?” A woman in uniform asks. She smiles sympathetically at the wince, noting how I tend to my temple at any opportunity. I hold out the wire and produce my phone.
“Are you able to charge my phone? There’s someone I’d really like to get a hold of.” The officer nods, heading out of the room and leaving me alone. I sink my head onto the desk, mentally trying to build a timeline. I remember Laura playing beer pong, remember her laughing. I didn’t see her drink anything, I don’t remember who she spoke to. There was a redhead I could probably point out, but the two cops who sit opposite me don’t seem to care for any of that.
“Hi Megan, I’m Detective Holden. This is Officer Kinge,” the portly man gestures to a slimmer and much younger one to his right. I lift my head fully, taking in the youthful features and tight curly hair, before nodding gently.
“You were part of my investigation last time.” He offers me a small smile, producing a notepad and pen. I vaguely remember Kinge questioning me and popping into the hospital room a few times to tell me there had been no update on Harrison’s location. He was always gentle with his words, but I don’t want gentle now. I just want the truth. “Can you tell me what’s happened?”
“A call came in during the early hours of this morning stating they had witnessed a drunken Laura Hopkins being dragged into a pick-up truck. She was putting up a fight, but the man holding her was much larger and stronger. The eyewitness is in another room, giving a statement as we speak.”
“And y-you think this man was Harrison?” I ask, beginning to shake once again. I was hoping this has all been a misunderstanding, but an eyewitness changes everything. Makes this all the more real.
