Chapter 35
Polly raised her head.
The brush of something soft against the rock whispered in the air. A shoe? Or boot?
Her body froze.
Someone was coming.
Oh, God!
Her mind told her to scream, but her throat wouldn’t cooperate.
She was so cold.
Numb.
And alone.
Kale hadn’t found her.
The police . . .
She was going to die.
Her head lolled to one side.
Why her?
She wasn’t pretty or smart.
She was nobody.
Was it because she talked about the other girls?
A sob choked her.
She whimpered.
The rasp of soles was louder now.
Someone was here.
She lifted her face. Wished she could see.
Maybe she didn’t want to see.
Please, please, God, help me. Let someone come find me!
The rustle of fabric warned her that whoever was here had crouched next to her.
Fingers twisted in her hair.
She tried to scream. Couldn’t.
“The gossip girl.”
She shuddered at the cruel voice.
Had to be the devil . . . Matilda had warned her. She’d probably taken off last night to hide like she said she might. That had to be why she hadn’t shown up to meet Polly.
A sob tore at her chest. She was going to die.
The devil put his face close to hers. She tried to draw away. Savage fingers stopped her with a harsh twist.
“You should think before you speak,” he whispered close to her ear, the voice barely audible.
The sobs wouldn’t stop. She choked and gagged, but they just kept coming.
“But,” the devil said, “I’ve decided to give you a second chance.”
Quiet! Listen. What was it saying?
“I’ve decided to trade a gossip for a fraud.”
The voice . . . it was . . . male, she was sure of it. A man?
No. She trembled. It was the devil.
Oh, God.
“Don’t you want that?”
What did he mean? Her body quaked and shuddered. She wanted to run away. To wake up and find out this was just a bad dream.
“You’re a very lucky girl, Polly Gossip. A fraud is going to take your place.”
He reached between her legs.
She tried to jerk away, tried to scream.
Something ripped.
Her hands were suddenly free from her feet. She tried to work them loose from each other. Couldn’t.
“Be a good girl now,” he warned.
She stilled. He hauled her to her feet. She stumbled.
Then he was pulling her, one arm wrapped around her neck. Her feet struggled to keep up, but she kept falling against him.
Nausea roiled in her stomach.
Where was he taking her?
What did he mean?
Was he going to kill her now?
She could hear the water.
The waves crashed against the rock.
Air rushed all around her. The gentle spray of something wet hit her face.
She was outside.
Oh, God, she was outside!
Her heart fluttered. She wanted to cry out. She sucked in as much air as she could through her nose. Cold, salty.
Wait. She inventoried her senses. Where was he?
The arm was no longer locked around her neck.
She stumbled around, her legs like dead tree trunks.
Her hands shaking, she reached up to her face. Tape across her mouth. Something . . . cloth . . . over her eyes.
She whimpered . . . was afraid any second he would grab her again and tell her that he’d only been joking.
She took hold of the cloth over her eyes with the tips of her fingers and tugged at it. It moved. She pulled it free.
She blinked. Looked around.
The moon peeked from the clouds. The water rushed over the rocks.
Where was he? She turned all the way around. Didn’t see him.
Tears slid down her cheeks. She ripped the tape from her mouth. Cried out at the burn. The sound echoed, reminding her that she was alive.
She stared at her hands. They were taped together. She tried to pull them apart.
The caw of a crow pulled her gaze skyward.
What if he was coming back? No! She had to run. Had to find help.
Her face crumpled with more tears as she stumbled forward.
She had to get home. Her mom would be worried . . .
She swiped at her eyes and scrambled up the cliffs.
Don’t think. Just run.
Run for your life!