Probably because he paid her to tell me what he wants me to believe. “You’re full of shit.”
“If I were in your shoes, I’d think the same thing, but it doesn’t change the truth. That Louisville detective figured it out recently. Won’t be long until he’s going to try to use that information against the Terror...and against you.”
I slouch in the seat. “The Terror’s legit and anything my father did or didn’t do doesn’t affect me.”
“Maybe, maybe not. Way I look at it, how well do you know your club? What is it that the Terror are hiding that the son of the president traded sides? Other question to ask yourself is how the other members of Terror are going to treat you once they find out your old man was a traitor. Are they going to be wondering how far off the tree that apple falls?”
Footsteps down the hallway and the man with the scar emerges. Violet limps in behind him. I stand so quickly that the legs of the chair bounce against the floor. She glances over at me and the lost expression on her face is worse than any punch.
Nausea twists my gut. She was alone with him and I fell for it. Skull waved his right hand in order for me to lose focus on his left. “You okay?”
She nods.
“Did he hurt you?”
Violet shakes her head and it bothers me she’s gone mute.
I set my sights on Skull and make it perfectly clear we’re done talking. “Call Eli now, get us home or I swear to God I’ll make each of you bleed before you get a chance to put a bullet in my brain.”
Skull laughs like I told a joke, but stands, pulls his cell out of his pocket and slides it to me. “Once you get ahold of Eli and tell him you’re okay, give the phone to me and I’ll tell him where to pick the two of you up.”
Violet
I’M BLINDFOLDED AGAIN and I’m handcuffed. The car is different, but my placement in the backseat isn’t. This time it was Chevy who placed the cuff on my wrist, then folded the bandana over my eyes. He did both with such care, touching me like I was on the verge of shattering, looking at me with such tender eyes that I wanted to weep.
The blindfold was a “request” from Skull, but the one wrist handcuffed was Chevy’s idea. He didn’t trust them to blindfold us and keep us together. I still don’t trust that they’re taking us to Eli, that they’re taking us home.
Before Chevy did either, he whispered, “Do you trust me?”
Of course I did. Trusted him to be the first boy to hold my hand. Trusted him to be the first boy I kissed. Trusted him to be the first for so many things. Did I trust him with my life? I held out my wrist, then stepped closer so I could allow him to blindfold me.
More than the car is different. The backseat doesn’t smell of rotten food. The material of the seats isn’t torn. The engine doesn’t roar. This ride is quiet. No radio. No one talking. The engine barely a purr.
This time Chevy sits with me in the backseat. Our legs are pressed tight together and he hooked one of his fingers with mine. He continuously slides his finger up and down in a reassuring caress. Not too fast, not too slow. It’s like a heartbeat.
A promise.
We’re going home.
He’s here with me.
It’s going to be okay.
I want to believe him, but I’m not sure if I can. There’s a nagging sensation that we’re reaching the end and not as in the they-all-lived-happily-ever-after, but as in the tragic finality of a nightmare.
My mouth is dry, my blood feels funny as it courses through my veins. Never thought much about breathing until this all happened. How air feels so good coming into my lungs and refreshing as it leaves. How each inhale and exhale is a gift.
Never thought too much about how a comforting touch from someone you care for is a blessing. Chevy is a blessing. Breathing is a gift. My heart beats a bit faster. I could be on the verge of losing both.
The car leaves the smoothness of a paved road and Chevy and I jostle into each other as the car dips and rocks. We’re on a dirt path. A knot forms in my throat. Not good. Not good at all. My stomach flips, and I breathe out to try to calm my nerves, but it doesn’t help.
Chevy shifts, his head near mine, his breath warm on my ear. “You and me, Violet. We’re going to get through this. Just do what I say when I say it.”
I nod. Together. We’re going to survive this together.
The car slows to a stop, a door opens and my heart beats in my ears. Chevy fidgets next to me, leaning forward. There’s a click, and a loosening of the handcuff and then the blindfold is lifted from my eyes. I blink at the brightness and snap my head in Chevy’s direction when his door opens. Both of his hands are free, the handcuff still on my wrist, but I’m not bound to anyone or anything anymore.
Chevy slides out and I scramble across the seat to follow. Frantically, I glance around, searching for Eli, but besides Justin, there’s not another living soul. Trees. Lots of trees. Trees full of colored leaves and the sunlight filtering through the thick branches, but no Eli.
They lied.
A hollowness in my stomach and the world tilts. Chevy grabs my hand and yanks me. “Run, Violet!”
He shoves me away from the car, away from Justin, away from him, but instead I reach out for Chevy, to force him to come with me. I will not abandon him now.
“Eli’s at the other end of this road,” Justin says in such a calm way that it’s frightening. “A half mile. I didn’t bring you out here to kill you, I’m sending you home.”
I grab on to Chevy’s wrist. He readjusts, taking my fingers with his.
Justin sets his hard glare on me. “I already explained we want peace. Me and Eli in the same breathing space means war. Safer for both of our clubs to drop you off here.”
“Then get in the car and leave,” Chevy says.
Justin glances over me, as if he’s trying to judge whether or not I’ll do what he’s asked. As a reminder of what they could do to my brother and mother if I don’t.
Without another word, Justin returns to the car. The world has an unreal quality to it, as if I’m watching a movie, as he U-turns and drives back the way he came.
We’re free.
Yet the adrenaline coursing through my veins doesn’t feel like relief. My back itches like someone is watching, my entire body vibrates with the sense we’re about to be ambushed—as if I’ll never be safe again.
The wind blows through the trees, making a clapping sound, and the breeze is cold against my cheeks. Chevy’s hand is warm and strong. We watch Justin’s car leave. Rocks cracking under the pressure of the tires. Dirt blowing up as a cloud in the wind.
The dust settles, the car retreats around a bend, the sound of the rocks being driven over and the purring engine fade yet we still stare in the direction Justin disappeared. As if we’re both frightened to turn our backs and tempt fate to drag us back to the basement prison.