the darkness I forget who I am now. I am back in the coffin, buried in six feet of dirt and the sins of my family.
The screams come again, rising wild and inhuman from inside me. I don’t hear any partying from the car any longer, just the tearing echo of my own terror.
I’m going to die tonight, and it’s almost a relief because I know I won’t be afraid any longer.
Somehow, I push through my fear, and I find something else on the other side. An anger so cold and final it’s beyond wild rage – it’s something calculated, focused. I take all the fear bottled up inside me, all the dark thoughts I’ve screamed into empty rooms, and I focus on staying awake, staying alert, keeping my mind clear and ready. Because if I die, these fuckers will get away with it. No one will look for me. Not even Antony. He can’t take the risk, and even if someone finds my body, these assholes will get their rich mommies and daddies to pay off the police.
Mackenzie Malloy won’t stand for that.
I think of Antony, and how hard he’s worked to lift himself out of the mess our family left behind for him. I think of how close we are to our dream, and I’ve fucked it all up because I let Alec LeMarque get under my skin.
I think of Queen Boudica, waiting at the door for me to come home, pawing at the glass in desperate hunger when she realized I’m not.
I fumble in my pocket for my phone, hitting the buttons I hope will call Antony.
I slide my knife from my sock. I manoeuvr it between my bonds and saw at the rope.
The car jerks to a stop, slamming my head into the wall. I’m too far into the abyss to even feel the impact.
Doors slam. Voices talk and laugh, like this is a fucking trip to the seaside. I hear the trunk unlock and a beam of harsh light blinds me.
The first thing that strikes me is the heat. It bears down on me like another attacker, holding me down with fingers of fire. I can’t see in the blinding light. I kick out with my legs, but I know I’m slow, useless. I snap the ropes on my wrists and swing with the blade. I feel contact, hear a male voice swear. Someone grabs my ankle and twists my leg against my chest, locking me in place. The knife is torn from my grip.
Hands grab me, drag me into the fire. Red welts sing across my vision. I discern that I’m outside, under the full fury of the Californian sun. I’m probably in the desert, judging by the orange haze blinding me.
My eyes start to adjust, and I make out shapes through the haze and the burning blue sky. Broad shoulders. Faces. One face in particular, leering down at me.
Alec LeMarque.
His forehead is covered with another dressing, and the skin around his eyes is tugged up, giving him this creepy clown expression. He curls his lips back into a smirk that would give small children nightmares. Hell, if I survive this I know I’ll be punching that smirk in my dreams.
“Hello, Mackenzie Malloy.” He leans in close, so I can smell the alcohol on his breath.
I hawk and spit at him. I’m so weak that my spittle runs down my own chin. My throat burns. How long has it been since I had a drink?
Alec’s surrounded by his friends. They lean against two other cars – all the jock guys from school who sit at the royal table, all flashing that same sickening leer. Noah’s there, at the back, his hands shoved into his pockets, the sunlight tinting his hair to flames of crimson and violet. Against the burning sky, his skin shines like alabaster – he’s a statue, his expression unreadable, the only one not grinning.
I don’t see Eli or Gabriel, and part of me wants to cry in relief.
“You’re not such hot stuff now, are you?” Alec sneers. He grips my shoulders, his nails digging into my skin. Two of his friends hold my arms, but they don’t need to. I’m their prisoner. I’m not going anywhere. There’s no escape. “You’re a fucking psycho out-of-control ghost slut, you know that? Your thugs scared Noah’s mother so badly she’s in the hospital.”
“Boo-hoo,” I spit back. “You all should have thought of that before you hurt my friend.”