“I won’t take the pills.” My legs are wobbly, and my stomach is woozy as I push up from the chair and work to get my footing.
He leans over the desk, pressing the pen to the paper. “I’m not saying you have to take them, but you’ll have them on hand just in case.”
“She was buying drugs the day she dropped us off. She was high and needed her next fix, so she sold her kids out to a fucking bunch of evil people.” I stuff my hands into the pockets of my jeans. “So, trust me when I say I won’t take the pills.”
He sighs but drops the pen and turns to face me. “Well, just know that the option is there and that there’s no shame if you decide to take them.”
“Okay.” I nod then start for the door.
He scoops up his office keys from the desk. “Let me walk you to your car.”
Ever since the incident in the parking lot where a chunk of my hair was stolen, he has been walking me to my car. He always locks his office up first, even though he goes back inside afterward.
After he locks up, we exit the building and cross the parking lot toward my car parked out near the back row, even though the entire area is vacant.
“It was more crowded when I came here,” I explain, glancing up at the sky now painted with stars.
“You’re usually my last client of the day,” he replies, reading a message on his phone.
When we near the car, I fish the keys from my pocket and push the key fob. The headlights flash across the dark parking lot as the doors unlock.
“I’ll see you next Tuesday,” I say, pulling the driver’s side door open.
He nods absentmindedly as he turns back toward the office building. “Take care, Ayden. And, if you need anything at all, call me.”
“I will.” I lower my head to climb in but pause when I spot a blank piece of paper on the dashboard. I pick it up and flip it over. Invisible fingers wrap around my neck, and suddenly, I can’t breathe again.
Those that step in, never get out. We’re going to torture you until you break. Just like we did to your sister.
I drop the note to the ground and scramble back, scanning the parking lot. Even though the note wasn’t signed, I know who left it. The Soulless Mileas, a group of people who held my siblings and me captive in that house I saw in the memory just minutes ago.
“Wait, something’s wrong,” I call out to Dr. Gardingdale. “There’s a note.”
He reels around, nearly dropping his phone. “Where?”
I point to the ground at the piece of paper, my eyes trained on the trees, the buildings, the bushes, every place someone could be hiding. “They must have put it in there while I was inside,” I say as he crouches down to examine it without picking it up. “I don’t know how, though. The car was locked.”
He straightens his legs and stands up then slowly circles the back end of the car. He walks around the front and down the side, inspecting every inch while dialing a number on his phone. He halts near the passenger side and moves closer, lifting his head to look on the roof. “Your sun roof’s open.” He glances at me from over the car. “Did you leave it open?”
“Maybe . . . I was honestly pretty distracted when I drove here.” Distracted by the heavy make out session I had with Lyric right before I drove here. My thoughts were lost in her and the way her lips felt against mine. How soft her skin was against my hand. The soft whimpers she kept making. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to be sorry. None of what’s happening is your fault.” He puts the phone up to his ear and starts chatting with the police to report the incident.
It’s the second one he’s had to report in two months, and I’m starting to wonder exactly how many more incidents are in my future. If the note holds any truth to it, then probably a lot.
I’m never, never going to be free
Until I die,
Or they capture me.
I’m not sure what ending’s worse.
Chapter 2
Ayden
Four hours later, I’m in the police station with Lila and Ethan, waiting for Detective Rannali—the person working my brother’s murder case and my sister’s kidnapping—to come speak with us about what happened tonight.
“I wish this could have just waited until morning.” Lila restlessly jiggles her foot up and down as she scans the busy room full of officers. She has flour on her jeans and shirt because she was cooking for a wedding she’s catering when she received the call to come here. “It’s too late for him to be out on a school night.”
“Honey, I think, considering what happened, it’s good that they want to tackle this tonight.” Ethan places his hand on her knee to settle her. “Be thankful they’re not shoving it aside.”
“I am.” She ceases bouncing her leg. “I’m just really tired of all of this and those damn people. Why can’t they just leave us alone?” Regret fills her eyes as she looks over at me “Sorry, I know I’m making this worse.”
“You don’t need to apologize.” I slump back in the seat. “Besides, I’m the one making this worse. I brought this on everyone.”
“Don’t you dare say that,” she starts to protest, but stops talking when Detective Rannali strolls up.
His white, button-down shirt is wrinkled, his tie crooked, and his hair is disheveled. “Sorry to make you wait. It’s been a long day.” He nods his head at his office door. “Come inside. There’s some stuff I’d like to talk to you about.”