On autopilot, I climb the stairs to the second floor and find myself in front of Denielle's door. My thrashing heartbeat has slowed to an almost alarming pace. Is this normal? I should be pissed at Lilly, worried for Denielle, relieved that King is on her way home. I'm waiting to feel something. Anything. But all I do is stare at the barrier separating me from the room Denielle has called home since moving to LA. Entering feels wrong and right at the same time. I twist the knob, letting the door swing inward. Her bed is made because she spent the last few nights in the guesthouse with me. Stepping inside, I quietly close the door. Part of me wants to lie down on her bed and press my nose into one of her pillows. Another part of me has an entirely different urge. I put one foot in front of the other until my shins meet the claw-foot tub. I stare at the white porcelain surface. Reaching down, I turn the little wheel. The water rushes from the faucet and immediately begins to rise. I press the plug down. Pulling my fingers from the water, I study the tiny droplets running down my fingers and falling onto the floor.
I don't think, just follow what my body directs me to do. Stripping out of my clothes, I stand only in my briefs in Denielle's bathroom. The harsh light from the vanity is too bright. I lean over and flip the switch, the illumination from the bedroom enough. I'm doused in darkness—in more ways than one. The space behind my ribs shrinks.
Where are you, baby?
Stepping into the tub, the water nearly sloshes over the rim. I turn the faucet off and sit down. My wet underwear instantly clings to my frame. The tub isn't large enough to hold Denielle, let alone me. The memory of how I found Denielle four days ago forms. I lift my feet and prop them on the far edge. Wrapping my fingers around the edges on either side, I slide as far forward as necessary for me to lean my entire upper body back. I hold my breath as the water slowly closes over me. Blinking my eyes open, I stare at the blurry darkness above. Relaxing, the water weighs me down. Denielle had described every sensation to me in detail. I wanted to learn it all. What went on in her head when she let the water pull her down into its depths. How it felt when every cell of her body was deprived of oxygen. How it numbed her mind from the thoughts overpowering her control. She never hesitated once. She told me everything.
That night…I fell in love with Denielle Keller.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-ONE
DENIELLE
I hurt—everywhere.
I'm trying to lift my head, but pain assaults my skull.Owwww.I squeeze my lids together, waiting for the cutting agony to subside. My neck is stiff, and when I finally manage to move, a crack between my vertebrae sends a fresh wave of torment through my nervous system. The sensation of someone continuously stabbing an icepick in both ears simultaneously causes me to groan.
I attempt to lift my hand to rub my temple, but—what the?I tug. My pulse speeds up, the pain momentarily forgotten.No, no, no.I can't move. My wrists are restrained. Every muscle in my body tenses. Taking stock, my breath accelerates to the point of my lungs burning. It's a sensation I've chased too many times in my life, but today, at this moment, it's not caused by my own doing. Several thin straps bite into my wrists and forearms, forcing me to remain motionless on a cool, smooth surface. My arms are bare and— Didn't I wear my blazer when I left the house with—King. Oh, my—King. And Jenn. Jenn was driving. Where are they? I struggle to open my eyes, but…it's of no use. I'm trapped in the dark. Where the hell am I? A whimper escapes my lips, and I slash my mouth.
The ache from my lungs spreads through every cell of my body, and I strain against whatever holds me in place. The new trauma doesn't register until warmth trickles down my exposed flesh. I broke skin. Blood slowly seeps across my arm and drips onto my legs. Panic overtakes my mind. My legs are bare as well. Someone took my clothes. I'm tied up and…naked? No, not completely. My chest and…privates are covered. I can taste the bile as tears prick at my eyes.
I can no longer contain the sobs. Marcus's face flashes against the black curtain like a mirage.
Everything will be fine.
Nothing is fucking fine. What the fuck happened?
I rack my brain, but sorting through my memories feels like wading through neck-deep mud. Everything is dark and murky, every step causing me not just physical but emotional agony.
We met in the garage.
I squeezemy eyes shut in the hopes of it easing the ice picks—it doesn't. The stabbing just shifts from the sides to the front, like the point is being shoved up my nose into my brain.
Marcus kissed me goodbye.He got behind the wheel of the Escalade.
The ice pick twists.
Ethan brushed past me."Looking good, Den. See you in a few." He went to the passenger side, redirecting Marcus's attention as he said something I couldn't hear.
Poundingin my ears numbs out the puncturing of my brain matter.
Lilly huggedme and headed to the door behind Marcus. "I'll text you when we leave the hangar. From there it should only take us about thirty minutes to get to The Club. Just head out whenever. They know you're coming." Lilly stood with one foot inside the back seat, her arm propped on the door.
I met Marcus's eyes through the windshield, my chest squeezing.
My head drops forward,my spine no longer able to support it. The weight pulls me down, my body sinking in the mud I just sifted through. Marcus's face begins to dissolve. I want to reach out, make him stay.
Don't leave me.
He's gone.
I jerk awake,unsure what catapulted me out of the pain-free void.
"Oh god," I groan as bile pushes its way up my throat. A bitter taste settles on my tongue, and I swallow against my better judgment. My throat feels like I've ingested a chain of barbed wire that's now lodged in my esophagus. I gag, but the cutting sensation only gets worse, resulting in a retching cough.
"Oh, goody!" Footsteps come closer. "You're awake."
My head is forced back by the hair, and the excruciating sting in my scalp drives me to cry out. "Ahhhh!"