Chapter 19
“He’s gone.”
West’s words knock the breath out of me. “What do you mean he’s gone?” I ask, tying the towel and pushing past him.
“I mean gone. Like he was here one minute and then gone the next.” West snaps, following behind me.
I look around the small space for another exit but there’s only the front door. “Where the fuck were you?” I demand, eyeing him suspiciously.
How well do I really know him now?
It’s West, you know him.
But do I? A lot has changed in three years…
Crossing my arms, I square my shoulders and level him with a glare. West looks at me, his expression incredulous. “You think I had something to do with him escaping?” He asks, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.
“Well did you?” I counter.
Running a hand through his hair, he shakes his head. “No, of course I didn’t, Nova. Seriously. You think I…?” He begins pacing the room. “I was out there.” Jabbing a finger toward the door, he huffs and resumes his pacing. “Then I came in and he was just gone. Like a…” His voice trails off, eyes widening. “Like a ghost.” He whispers, whipping his head around and throwing his arms out.
“What is your damage, dude?” I ask, starting to seriously worry about his mental health.
Ignoring me, he spins in a circle, looking around the room. “He was so real though.” He mumbles.
Closing the distance between us, I place a hand on his arm, pulling his attention to me. “West.” I wait for his eyes to focus before continuing. “You’re scaring me. Are you okay?”
West stares at me blankly for several heartbeats before letting out an awkward chuckle. Rubbing his eyes, he mutters, “Man, I think I need some sleep or something. For a second there, I thought the dude was a legit ghost.” Dropping his hand, he grips my shoulders. “Nova, we’ve gotta get out of here. Before he comes back.”
I nod slowly, still eyeing him. I’m not entirely convinced his episode has passed and worry about where his head is at. “Yes.” I agree, grabbing his wrists and removing his hands from my shoulders. “Let’s look and see if there’s anything we can use to help escape. The guy has a whole weapons arsenal, he’s gotta have a flashlight or two around here somewhere.” I back away, keeping an eye on West as I slip into the bathroom to put on my clothes.
Once dressed, I decide to check the bedroom. Slipping into the room, I flick on the light and look around. My eyes land on the end table beside the bed. Careful not to knock over the dishes still stacked on top, I pull out the top drawer and rifle around, letting out a frustrated sigh when I don’t find anything. I push the drawer closed and search the next one. It proves to be just as useless.
Come on, there’s got to be something.
Rounding the bed, I open the top drawer of the other nightstand. There are a few items inside but nothing helpful. I’m about to close the drawer and move on when something catches my eye.
Tucked in the corner is a worn photograph, the edge peeking out from underneath the rest of the crap shoved inside. I carefully free the photo, running my finger down the creased image.
Staring back at me is a gorgeous woman sitting sideways on top of a bright picnic blanket. Sitting beside her is a younger version of my mystery man, a bright smile on his face. None of the scars or age lines marr his features, the hard edge in his eyes isn’t there either. Joy radiates from the couple. Zayn’s arm is thrown over her shoulders, his face angled down at her, the smile for her and her alone.
I’m hit with a pang of jealousy at the love and happiness between the two. Alongside the jealousy is a burning curiosity, a need to know who she is and what happened to turn the once joyful boy into the hardened, arrogant, dick I know.
Turning the photo, I notice handwriting on the back.
Zayn Kate
Missuli Park
Sophomore year
My forehead creases as I reread the inscription.
Kate.
As I put back the photograph where it was to return to my search, I can’t help but wonder what happened to the couple in the photo. A heaviness settles in my stomach as I think of the man I know now, and I can’t shake the feeling that whatever happened between the time that photo was taken and now, none of it was good.
“Hey Nova!” West calls.
Sighing, I exit the room, my heart heavy from the discovery. “You find something?” I ask, making my way toward West.
He holds up a small notepad, his lips set in a grim line. Handing it over to me, he runs his hands through his hair, cursing.
Dropping my eyes to the scrawled note, I read it. Then read it again. Looking back up at West, rage boils within me. “Are you fucking kidding me?” My hands shake as I try to keep the panic from overtaking me.
Tossing the notepad on the counter, I kick the closest wall, screaming, “Fuck!” West hyperventilates behind me, the sound of his frantic pacing fueling my agitation.
“We’re trapped.” He mutters, voicing the feeling suffocating me.
He’s right, we are trapped.
As the finality sets in, another, more agonizing, realization hits me.
I was the only thing keeping Hollis alive. If I’m not there, if I disappear…
A shocked sob breaks free as a wave of nausea rolls through me, the stress and physical exertion of the night catching up, making my head pound angrily.
West stops his pacing at the sound, attempting to comfort me, but I can’t make out the words he says. With numb fingers, I pick back up the note and reread it, willing the words to change.