Chapter 39
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Ella
Way Down We Go - KALEO
I ’m shaking. I can’t stop it. It’s cold outside, a crisp fall wind that seeps down to my bones. It’s not raining, but the dark clouds in the night sky are promising a storm to remember.
“Megan?” I call out, walking deeper and deeper into the woods.
The branches are thickening, and the moonlight was already missing, so the darkness is becoming eerie, sending another chill slithering down my spine. I wrap my coat tighter around my body and walk farther.
“Megan, I swear to God…” I jolt when I hear a branch cracking next to me.
An animal runs past, making me gasp as I jump to the side. My heart races, and I have to put a hand on my chest to calm myself.
This looks a lot like a trap. Especially coming from Megan. Her message was strange, but then I asked myself, what is the worst she can do? She’s not going to kill me .
She can try. I’m so furious with her, I might be the one ending up killing her. The woman used Hermes’s account to ruin my life, my reputation, and my self-esteem. I think one of us has more reasons to kill the other.
I look at my phone, already in my hand because I’m using the flashlight to go through the woods.
Unknown: Meet me in the woods behind the residences. I have something you can use to get out of your situation with Chris. He played us both. Megan.
There’s some noise coming from a few feet in front of me, but the trees are so thick I can’t see anyone.
Hearing a struggle, I freeze. Then a whimpered no .
“Megan? I swear if this is a trap, I’m going to kill you.”
I barely say the word “kill” when her scream resonates through the woods. Probably all the way to the residences.
And out of nowhere, she’s running toward me. Her long legs, her shoulder-length hair. She slaloms between the trees, but with every step she takes, she slows down, struggles harder.
“Ella,” she croaks, holding her hands to her chest.
I take off into a sprint, running to meet her, and she crashes in my arms, smearing blood all over my beige coat.
“H-help…help…” But she’s too heavy, and we both collide onto the damp forest ground.
My hands hover over her chest, and I try to press on the wound in a panic, but there are too many. She’s holding a knife. Did she do this to herself?
I take it out of her hands, putting it beside me, and that’s when I see the small piece of ripped paper crunched in her fist .
I can’t stop hearing it. The sound she made a few seconds ago.
The bloodcurdling scream of someone being murdered is like nothing I’ve heard before.
During those long, horrifying seconds, only the sounds and smells stick with me.
The gasping of her emptying lungs. How she chokes on her blood with dire gurgling noises I will never forget.
Blood smells strong. So strong I can practically taste it in my mouth, dying along with her as crimson liquid spills from her lips. A cough and it splatters on my face.
The images don’t stay. They’re flashes of blurriness my brain already tries to erase. To protect me from.
She’s on the ground. I know she is because I am too, kneeling next to her on the forest soil.
She’s dying.
There’s mud and blood in her black hair. That I notice. And her hands come to scratch her throat, her bloody lips. She’s ripping into her skin, coughing over and over again.
She’s dead before I get myself out of the haze.
I can already see the headlines.
College queen bee turns out to be a murderer.
Is this how I’ll go down? For the murder of the woman who had become my ex’s new girlfriend?
What was the point of becoming picture-perfect, of being the popular, flawless girl if my downfall all comes down to this? The murder of my enemy.
My left fist tightens around the note in my hand, hopelessness growing within me.
It’s just a tiny, bloody, ripped piece of paper carrying simple words .
Victory belongs to the most persevering.
“Megan,” I rasp. My throat tightens, reality hitting me harder than a punch to the gut. “Oh my god, Megan.” A sob bursts out of my mouth, my breaths coming in shallow pants.
I hear leaves ruffling behind me, someone stepping close, and a mighty presence settles beside me.
His hand comes to the top of my head, pressing dominantly and forcing me to lean against his thigh.
“Oh, Sweets,” he purrs. “What have you done?”
I’m shaking from my forceful cries, and I retch dryly as my gaze roams over her dead body.
“You did this,” I whimper. “You did this…you did this…”
“Hm, yes. I did.” He caresses my hair, and I weirdly don’t fight him, taking in the reassuring gesture. “But this picture truly shows you did.”
Something drops between my knees, and I glance down at the lit-up screen. The picture clearly shows me, holding the knife from when I took it from Megan’s hand, and looking down at her dying body.
“Do you know what would be terribly unfortunate, Sweets?”
I squeeze my eyes shut, tears falling so freely I can’t see clearly anymore.
“If Hermes released that picture.”
My eyes fly back open, locking onto his. “It was you.”
He nods. I swallow down the bile rising up my throat.
“You set her up to make Duval believe she was the one behind the account.”
He nods again. “If it can ease your mind. Everything Megan got, she deserved. ”
And she did, didn’t she? She was violent, abusive, malicious, threatened his dad, got him hurt.
“But I didn’t,” I croak with a shake of my head. “I don’t deserve this.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” He even says it like he means it, but he doesn’t take his blackmailing threat back. “Once you’re all mine, I’ll make it all better. I promise you.”
“You did it.” My voice is barely audible, but I don’t care. “You burned down my entire world.”
His hand caresses me some more, and he softly grips my hair to keep me looking up at him as my hopeless gaze strays to the sky.
“I did. Now might be the time you want to take back your words, baby. Because if this gets out, you won’t only have the police after you, but the entire Circle.”
“What words?” I whimper, a sob choking me.
He smirks, the devil within him darkening the already blackened forest.
“ I wouldn’t go back to you if you were my last option on earth. It looks like I’m your last option. Are you sure you don’t want to choose me?”
I blink up at him, realizing that those words will forever haunt me. Unless…unless I do choose him.
And I truly don’t have a choice this time.
He doesn’t force it with violence. He helps me up with gentle hands, pushes strands of wild blonde hair away from my face, and wipes the tears from my eyes.
And he doesn’t make me spell it out. Doesn’t make me admit defeat. He takes pity on me and simply says, “Shall I take you back to our home now, Sweets? We have to call Zeus and tell him you changed your mind.”
I nod, sniffling.
The worst part isn’t that I lost .
I once heard that people on the run from the police for years almost look relieved once they get caught. They couldn’t take the fear anymore. Looking back over their shoulders constantly, living a life of paranoia isn’t worth it.
That’s the worst part. That feeling of relief enveloping me. There’s no more running away from Chris. He got me, and I can finally let go.