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My phone dings again almost the moment I enter the room, causing me to jump. Fucking ridiculous. They’re warning me I’m being watched while they’re watching me.

Drive to a McDonald’s and start running.

Perfect. That’s just what I want to do. I wish I could take comfort in knowing the Elites are tracking me. At least someone would know where to find me if I came up missing. And I have to assume they would come find me since they need something from me.

I blow a long, sharp breath from my cheeks, clo

sing my eyes as I picture getting into my car at night and running from a dark and empty parking lot. With my luck lately, it’s the last thing I want to do. I’m convinced someone will be waiting to attack, but it feels like I have no other choice. I may be scared shitless, but I’m tired of being a pawn. This could be a way out, or at the very least, a way to get more information.

With a deep breath, I clutch my keys to my chest and swing my bag over my shoulder before heading out to my car. I don’t even turn on the radio as I drive. My thoughts and nerves are loud enough as it is. Any more noise would only make my never-ending headache worse.

Just as I was instructed, I drive to the nearest McDonald’s, park, and get out to look around. With no obvious threats around, I take off running. In a way, it’s exactly what I need. All of this drama has been leaving me too exhausted at the end of the day to take any evening runs. I have been longing for this kind of release ever since I laid soaking in the tub earlier this afternoon. And now here it is. If only it wasn’t under such crazy circumstances.

I relish in the feel of the night air swishing past me. The wind is numbing, biting at my ears and cheeks, but I love it. Right now I’ll settle for any kind of physical sensation that doesn’t come from the hands of the Elites…the hands of Emmett, specifically.

With each step, I want to feel like I’m closing in on something with this strange new development. This mystery caller. Maybe this will lead to a light at the end of the tunnel. Either that or finally put me out of my misery.

As soon as I get into a good stride and feel a moment of release, an expensive-looking black sports car rolls up beside me, speeding my heart to an alarming rate. As it squeals to a stop, I half expect the window to roll down and a gun to just start shooting. That’s how paranoid I’ve become.

I slow down and look over to see the driver’s side window rolling down, revealing a familiar face.

Malcolm Henderson. A satellite Elite from school. And he doesn’t appear to have a gun. So at least there’s that.

“You!?” I yell out in exasperation, feeling even more confused than before.

“I’ve been sent by your father,” he explains curtly.

Of course. I knew it. I knew this whole thing had to be his doing.

“How the hell do you know my father!?” I quip back, feeling too strung out for niceties.

“Everyone here knows your father, Ophelia,” he glares ominously. “I thought you would have figured that much out by now.”

“I guess I’m starting to. But you’d think that’d make things a little easier on me. If he’s such a big and important guy around here,” I lament bitterly.

“Well…I said everyone knows him,” he raises his brows, tilts his head and lifts his fingers briefly from the car door. “I didn’t say people like him.”

“And what about you?” I ask, leaning over with my hands on my knees as I catch my breath. “Do you like him?”

“My father and your father are very close. So, I suppose you could say I like him. Or rather, we’re helping each other out at the moment.” He reaches to his passenger seat and grabs a bottle of water, quickly tossing it in my direction.

“I didn’t think my father had anything to do with this town anymore,” I explain, twisting the cap of the bottle with an appreciative nod. I know I should be more hesitant and distrusting with Malcolm, but I’m too tired to put up any airs. “I thought he was long gone.”

“Get in,” he commands with a flip of the car door locks. “It’ll all start to make more sense if you come with me.”

I roll my shoulders and step toward the road to walk around the car, but something stops me. I remember the last time I followed a boy into his car. I duck down and peek into the backseat for an arsenal of weapons or any sign that he plans to torture me the way Emmett would after inviting me to take a ride with him.

It’s spotless. I take a deep breath and get in, against my better judgement.

The car speeds off, leaving me at Malcom’s mercy. I watch the familiar increase of house size fly by my window. The landscaped yards and all their pretentious ornaments. Giant mansions. Filled with haunting secrets, most probably connected to the Elites. Everything in this town is, especially anything bad and hidden away.

I grow nervous as he takes a dark side road, avoiding a fallen powerline. I wring my clammy hands around my cell phone, noting its loss of bars as we drive further away from civilization. What have I done? I am completely screwed.

“Relax,” Malcolm says, his eyes darting at my shifting arms and legs as I squirm in my seat. “I’m not going to hurt you. Nothing bad is going to happen, I promise. Quite the opposite actually. This will shed some light on a few things for you.”

“Oh, forgive me for not being so trusting,” I quip back sarcastically. “This town hasn’t exactly treated me well since I arrived.” My fingers graze across my bruised arms before I turn to look out the window again. “So, the calls and texts from before? Were they all you?”

“Well there’s no telling what all has been sent to you, but yes. Most of them probably were. I was hoping you’d catch up to things in time,” he explains, shifting the gear to accelerate faster down a dark and winding road.


Tags: Rebel Hart The Elites of Weis-Jameson Prep Academy Romance