Deep Betrayal Page 0,55

prisms that separate all the colors out of the white light, all at once.”

Then she bowed, and Mom clapped like her baby had won an Academy Award. I clapped, too. It was actually pretty decent. Sophie blushed as Mom went to check the clock.

“Mrs. Larson will be here soon to pick you up,” Mom said. “Make sure you have everything you need.”

“So you think it was good?” Sophie asked.

“Actually,” I said, “it was. I am very, very impressed.”

“You gave me the idea,” she said.

“I did? How?”

Sophie smiled and didn’t say anything more. She threw her notes and the prism into her backpack, carefully rolled up her poster, and raced out the door.

Before I could give her any more thought, the phone rang. It wasn’t on the charger. The muffled sound came from under the couch cushions. I dug around, finding it just in time.

“Hello?” I huffed into the receiver.

“Lily? Oh, good! I need a huge favor. Huge!” It was Gabby.

I groaned mentally. I really didn’t have time for a favor. “What?”

“I’m in Duluth with some friends, and Brady Peterman called.”

“So?” I asked. I walked into the kitchen and I hoisted myself up onto the counter to sit.

“He’s totally drunk.”

“I’m not following you, Gabby, and I’m kind of busy.” I twirled my hair around my finger and flipped the ends back and forth against my nose.

“He said a bunch of them were up at Marsden’s Orchard. He said I need to get up there and pick up Jack, but I’m too far away, and if Jack’s in half the shape Brady’s in, he won’t be able to get himself home. Obviously I can’t call Dad.”

I rolled my eyes and exhaled. “Where exactly is he?” There was leftover mac and cheese in the pot in the sink. I dug out a mouthful.

“Brady said Jack’s still at Marsden’s barn. Can you go get him? He’s not answering his phone. I’m afraid he passed out or something.”

“You so owe me,” I said, sucking my fingers. “Both of you. Maybe Jack should have thought about this before he got lit.”

“Great! You’re a lifesaver, Lil,” Gabby said, and she hung up before I could say goodbye.

The car keys hung on a peg in the kitchen. I tossed them in the air, catching them with an overhand grab, and walked out the door. Turning the key in the ignition, the car stutter-started, vibrating under the soles of my feet. The gas gauge hovered around empty, but there was enough to get me up to the orchards.

Marsden’s was two orchards past the strawberry fields and hard to miss because of its old red barn that doubled as an everything-apple retail store. The faded and peeling paint made it look more pink than red, and the long, rectangular MARSDEN’S sign hung left of center over the barn door.

The gravel parking lot was empty and a cardboard Closed sign sat propped against the window.

“Great,” I said to no one. “Awesome.” The place looked deserted. Maybe Jack managed to stagger home on his own after all.

I got out of my car and crossed the parking lot to the barn. I peered into the dark windows, but it seemed empty. “Jack!” I called, cupping my hands to the glass. “Jack, are you in there?”

“Here,” said a voice from behind a dilapidated outbuilding, twenty yards from the barn. “Help me.”

I strode toward his voice, preparing to scold him for being so stupid, but what I saw stopped every scathing word in my throat. “Holy …! Jack! Are you okay?” I ran to him and dropped to my knees.

Jack Pettit lay flat on his back, stripped naked. His hands were tied over his head to a rusty ring on the side of the building, his legs tightly bound together with bright blue duct tape that came up past his waist, immobilizing him with a sadistic merman’s tail. Someone had written FREAK on his chest in black Sharpie.

How many people did it take to hold him down? Gray dirt caked his face. Tears plowed wide tracks down his soiled cheeks. I couldn’t help but take a breath at the realization that Jack was—in this grotesque state—closer to his original desire than he’d ever been before. If Pavati came back … if she said that she wanted him after all … would he want this life? Now that he was vulnerable and beached, would he choose this life if she wanted him in hers? Would I, if the choice was mine?

My hands came up to do