CHAPTER 55
Ever since being warned that almost every member of the Ambassador Club had died in some sort of bizarre manner, Chelsea Webster had been unable to eat, sleep, or do much of anything at all . . . except stare out the window, jump at every sound, and pour herself another shot of Jack Daniel’s. With a trembling hand, she brought the glass to her lips, took a sip, winced, then downed the rest in one swallow.
That’s why she’d left her boyfriend a note at their apartment in Orangevale and then had driven out of town. She was scared, and she didn’t want to put him in any danger. She was staying in a Motel 6 off of I-80 in Auburn. Where else would she go?
Certainly not to her family. Most of them had disowned her when she was only seventeen after she’d kicked her grandmother in the shin, cutting through skin and hitting bone, causing swelling in Grandma’s leg that she’d heard from a cousin still bothered her to this day. Not that that was the only awful thing she’d done. It had just been the final straw.
Chelsea didn’t know why she’d been such an angry teenager. Looking back, it didn’t make much sense. She’d been spoiled since birth. But lots of kids in the world were spoiled and somehow they turned out all right.
Maybe if her parents had disciplined her every once in a while, given her chores, things would have turned out differently. When she used to get angry with her mother, she would dump the contents of her mother’s purse onto the floor and then take cash and credit cards. Her mother never stopped her.
She poured herself another glass, swallowed the contents in one gulp.
To this day, she didn’t like waiting in lines, had zero patience, and did not like to share. The world hadn’t made any sense at all until she’d met Adam. He was the most caring, patient, understanding individual she’d ever met. He loved her for who she was, and yet he didn’t take her shit, either. He stood up to her. She’d never had anyone do that before.
It sounded corny, but it was the truth: love had opened her eyes to so many things—the good and the bad, although the bad all had to do with her past. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to shake all the nasty things she’d done back in high school.
She looked at the gun sitting on the nightstand.
One more drink for courage, she told herself.
Adam insisted she needed to let the past go, told her she needed to forgive herself. But would he say that if he knew everything she’d done? Sure, she’d told him about taking her mom’s credit cards. She’d even swallowed her pride and told him about the time she’d kicked her grandmother. But she couldn’t tell him everything. The things she’d done while she was a part of the Ambassador Club were so horrifyingly awful, she couldn’t begin to imagine telling him. If she couldn’t forgive herself, how would Adam ever find it in his heart to forgive her?
She put the entire bottle to her mouth and guzzled.
The amber liquid drizzled down over her chin as she reached for her gun.
It was time to end the pain.
She lifted her cell phone. The names in her contact list were blurred. It took her a moment, but she finally hit the right button. Adam answered on the first ring.