We stand outside the shop together, Amy and I. "Thank you for listening to me," I say, hugging her again. "It means the world."
"I've got your back. Just let anybody try to say anything against you. I'll set them straight," she promises.
"That means the world, too, but I don't want you getting yourself into hot water on my account. Just steer the gossip mongers my way. I'll be the one to set them straight. You don't have to fight my battles." I give her a smile and another hug. She's such a good friend. I don't know what I'd do without her right now.
"Are you going to Jax's?" she asks just before we part ways.
"I think I'll take your advice and go over, yeah. First I want to go home to change." There's flour all over my clothes. She smiles.
"Maybe you should pack an overnight bag?" She giggles, and I swat at her with my gloves. We walk to our cars, laughing.
I drive home feeling oddly buoyant. I should write a book, I decide. All about the lies we tell ourselves. We have ourselves convinced no one will ever understand us. We can't share our story with others. People will judge us, shun us. We'll feel ashamed. That's nonsense! I laugh at myself, out loud, at the thought. It's total nonsense. We can't live in our hearts all the time. When we're hurting, we have to reach out and share our stories. Who knows? Maybe another person can relate, and our bravery will help them, too.
I'm feeling extremely confident as I climb the stairs, digging my keys out of my bad. I'm even humming, I realize. Something I haven't done in ages. I can't wait to get to Jax's. I know I can make him understand where I was coming from earlier today. Even if he's listened to my message and is still brooding, I can get through to him somehow. I just need the chance.
I walk into the house, flipping the light switch as I do.
When the lights don't go on, I feel sick. In a split second, everything becomes clear.
Then I'm hit over the head, and it all goes black.
***
Where am I?
I wake up, and everything's dark. I'm moving, aren't I? Being bounced back and forth, gently. Like being in a cradle. I'm rocking in a cradle. It's actually kind of nice.
I close my eyes again, wanting nothing more than to sink into the darkness around me. It's so sweet, so good, just relaxing like this. Not having to be worried, not having to defend myself or work my way through dark, confusing rumors. Just … being.
Wait.
No.
I can't go back to sleep.
I open my eyes again. I stretch out my legs … only they don't stretch all the way. Not even a lot of the way. They're folded, my knees close to my chest.
I try to stretch out my arms, but they, too, are only going so far. There's a wall in front of me. I try to roll onto my back. There's a ceiling right above my head, so low I brush my shoulder against it as I turn. God, it's so small. So closed in. I feel panic overtaking me. My heart is racing. I can't breathe, I can't breathe.
No. Calm down. Breathe. In. Out. You'll be okay.
Where am I? I'm moving. That's one of the first things I realized, right? I'm moving. Where? How?
What's that smell? Exhaust? And the sounds. Traffic? Are those cars passing by? Oh, my God. The trunk of a car. This isn't a ceiling. It's the lid of the trunk.
"Hey!" I scream, pounding my fists on the roof. "Hey! Help me! Let me out! Please!" The car keeps moving, as though I hadn't said a word.
I turn as best I can, trying to kick out the tail light. I've always read you can be found in the trunk of a car by kicking out the tail light and waving your arm. Only there isn't enough room in the trunk for me to get up enough force. I can't kick my legs hard enough because I can't pull back far enough. I struggle, getting sweaty, crying with frustration. What's going to happen to me?
I try pounding on the lid again. "Please! Let me out! I can't breathe in here!" Whoever it is, they don't care. I can tell from the hum of the engine the car doesn't so much as slow down.
Who's done this to me?
There are bits of clothing in here. I can tell them from touch. I might have to wrap them around my hands if I want to do any more punching on the trunk lid, so close to my head. It's a blessing I'm not claustrophobic. I laugh harshly at the idea of a blessing in this situation. There are no blessings here. I'm in the trunk of a car, being taken God only knows where, and I'm counting my blessings. Amazing.
I raise one of the pieces, a shirt, to my nose. I know this cologne. Of course, I knew what was happening the split second I flipped the light switch. It's Tommy. He found me.
I think back to that idea of writing a book. I'll have to include a chapter on the moment you realize your abusive ex has finally come for you. You try to turn on the lights inside your house, and they don't work for the first time. You know, in that instant, that it's all come to pass. Your worst nightmare has come true. He's here. Somewhere. And he's been waiting for you. It's all been for nothing, all your hiding and dreaming of something better. He'll never let you go. He wasn't joking when he said he'd never let you go.
And then he hits you and knocks you unconscious.
My head throbs painfully, as in response to my thoughts. He hit me hard. Now I'm glad I didn't go to sleep when I wanted to, for fear of a concussion. I touch my fingertips to the sore spot on my head. It stings, and my fingers feel wet. I'm bleeding.
What's he going to do to me? I could try screaming to him from the trunk, but that won't do any good. He's probably in a frenzy by now. He might even kill me.
I think about my parents. I wish I could have spoken to them one more time.
I think about Amy. For the rest of her life, she'll remember hugging me and laughing with me as we left the store. It'll be one of those memories that plays in her head for years, over and over. Laughing and joking about taking an overnight back to Jax's, just before Tommy kidnapped me.
Jax. Oh, God. What will he do? Why didn't I go straight to his house? None of this would be happening.
I have to keep breathing or else I'll pass out. Panic threatens to overtake me. I hang on by the thinnest of threads. All I can do is lie here and think. About what might happen. What I can do about it. And whether anyone will come to help me before it's too late.
Chapter 28
Jax
I spend the day doing a lot of thinking.
At first I was pissed, especially when I first left Christina's. Beyond pissed. Wishing I'd punched Adam out the second I saw him pull into her driveway. Who the hell did he think he was, anyway? Showing up like that, acting superior. Putting the spotlight on Christina, even more than it already was. All out of some sort of grudge against me.
I know why he hates me. It's had to be that way for a long time. If he knew the full story of what happened the day Marissa died … I don't know what it would do to him. It's bigger than me, bigger than her. It was club-level stuff. I don't know how involved he still is with the club, but I guess he must be close. I would have heard something through the grapevine otherwise.
Come to think of it, he wasn't wearing his kutte. That's something to consider. In the Angels, when you ride your bike, you wear your kutte. Maybe he left it at home since he was coming through town. One of the unspoken rules is club members don't wear them when riding through town. God forbid the townspeople have to be reminded the club exists.
Regardless, Adam was being an ass. Stumbling around. Pathetic.
Was he really pathetic, though? I pace my living room, punching my palm. No. Not pathetic. In pain. I could have stopped him from feeling that pain, but I didn't. Maybe I'm the pathetic one.
So I was pissed at first. Now I'm desperate. I need her to believe me. I don't know why. I just do. I have to talk to Christina, even if it means going back to town.
I've been thinking about her when I'm not thinking about Adam. I can't help it. I keep remembering the way she looked when I was fighting with him. The way she looked when he said those awful things. About Marissa. I was sure she didn't believe me. She was going to turn her back on me, just like everyone else already has. Why not? I'm poison. I kill everything I touch.
Before Adam showed up, she was ready to walk through town with me. Face down anything with me. Stand by my side and defend me, no matter what it meant to her. All it took was Adam's mouth to set off her doubt. I saw it in her face. She didn't know what to believe anymore. Me, or the drunk standing out on her lawn.
He wasn't always like that. I used to think of Adam as a big brother. He was so cool, so in control. I worshiped him, I guess. The brother I'd never had. Then, when I married Marissa, he became my brother. It seemed too good to be true.
Now? He's a mess. A shadow of who he used to be. Sloppy, drunk, angry. I know it's my fault. Just not for the reason he thinks.
Nothing I've ever said has been good enough. Not for him, not for anybody else in the town. For a minute there, I thought it might be enough for Christina. I was wrong. It wouldn't be the first time I was wrong about something.