Chapter Thirty-Two Sam #2
I can’t tell him everything, not when I barely know what’s happening myself.
All I know is, I’m not going to survive this school.
Too much has happened, and every day it’s looking more and more like none of it is worth it.
And if he knew what I’ve been through, if he knew about Jackson, Evan would burn the world for me, even if that meant burning himself, too.
That can’t happen, so I tell him the only thing I can tell him.
“I miss you. I miss my brother and just want to be with him.”
Evan rubs his eyes. “We miss you, too. But something tells me it’s more than that. Did something happen? The team still giving you a hard time?”
The one thing I did share with Evan was how much I hated working for the hockey team. Which was funny to him because he knows how much I hate sports.
I shake my head. “I just don’t want Des to be alone.”
“He’s not. And you know that. Me and Grandma Harris are looking out for him. There was a reason you left, stick to the plan. Whatever it is, you’ve got this. Nothing can kill you—”
“As long as I don’t let it,” I mutter, finishing his statement. It’s something he’s said to me many times throughout our friendship.
“Exactly. You’ve accomplished a lot of things, and you’ll get through this, too.”
“You promise?” I stare at him, knowing he’d never be able to. No one can. Life is going to do what it does, with or without your permission.
“I do. You’re the strongest person I know.”
I don’t know if I believe that anymore, but I don’t tell him that; instead, I say, “Love you.”
“Me too. Now, I’m going to go back to sleep, I don’t have class for a few more hours.”
We say our goodbyes and hang up just as I near a wooded part of the campus.
Less than a minute later, the hair on my arms stands at attention, goose bumps dancing across my skin.
Eeriness washes over me and my senses are tingling, and I can’t shake the feeling that someone is watching me.
Leaves rustle in the distance, drawing my gaze to the trees.
I fixate on my surroundings but there’s no one there.
Throwing one more look around, I step off the curb to cross the parking lot toward my dorm.
And that’s when I see it. A blacked-out van idling at the end of the street, windows tinted, engine quiet. I may not be able to see who’s behind that wheel, but something tells me whoever it is has their sights set on me.
I move faster, rushing across the road, glancing back every so often. They stay there for a moment, but as soon as my soles hit the grass, they roll forward.
Suddenly, my mind starts to race.
Could that be Jackson? It can’t be. He wouldn’t have had time to limp to an unmarked van and follow me without me noticing.
Which means, it’s someone else entirely.
Blood starts to pump in my ears, the adrenaline spiking. Keeping my eyes ahead of me, I move deeper into the yard so that if they get out to grab me, I’d have a head start at getting away. The window starts to inch down, and my heart hammers in my chest.
“Sam,” a deep voice belts out, and that’s all it takes for me to book it.
I take off in a full sprint, weaving across the lawn and straight for the glass double doors of my dorm.
The sound of tires screeching and someone racing behind me lights a fire under me.
I yank the door open and run into the stairwell, taking them two at a time, determined not to stop until I reach the top.
My lungs are on fire, legs aching with every forward motion.
By the time I make it to the second level, the door opens on the first and I peer down just long enough to see a man’s hand grip the railing just seconds before the pads of his shoes hit the threading.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” I go faster now, pulling myself up by the railing.
Thinking quickly, I yank open the second-floor door and let it slam then snatch my sneakers off to stifle my footfalls as I make a dash up the final flight of stairs, being careful to stay against the wall to avoid being seen.
Thankfully, the stairwell is well lit, so my position won’t be given away by the light shining in from my floor.
I close the door softly and bolt down the hall to my room, fumbling to pull my keys from my hoodie along the way.
I finally make it to my door and get the key into the lock just as I hear the door burst open at the end of the hall.
Panicked and out of breath, I get the lock free and storm inside, frantically locking it again.
Needing to know if my theory is correct, I look down at my phone and frantically swipe through the messages from the unknown caller.
It was easy to assume it was Jackson harassing me; he does hate me after all.
That was his voice on the other end of the line last night, right? But this… it can’t be him.
I reread the messages, my back nearly buckling when I really take in the words:
Unknown Number: I’m going to get you bitch.
Unknown Number: Whatever you’re looking for, end it.
Unknown Number: Nearly 1,000 girls go missing every day. Don’t end up as one of them.
Just then, my phone buzzes, and another text loads in the thread.
Unknown Number: I’m sure Miranda can’t wait to be reunited with her precious daughter. But then what would happen to poor little Desmond?
“O-oh God,” I stammer, my hand instantly going to my mouth to silence the scream building in my throat. My hands are shaking, and there is no holding back the emotions now. My vision blurs as the tears fall, heavy droplets trailing my face then through my fingers.
Suddenly there’s a bang at my door—loud and aggressive. The phone falls to the floor, muffled by the old carpet. The scream is right there, but I squeeze my mouth so tight, my lips twist together as pain shoots through my face.
“Sam. Open up, it’s me, Kane.”
And just like that, everything stills, my limbs go numb, and my legs give in.
“Sam,” Kane calls out again, this time his voice softer than before.
It takes a beat for me to pull myself up and step toward the door before hesitantly opening it. His eyes trail my body from my feet up and once his eyes land on mine, the dam breaks. I collapse into him, and he catches me in his big strong arms.
“I got you,” he whispers and walks me back into the room, closing the door and securing us inside.
The sobs are audible now, and Kane moves us over to my bed where he guides me to sit next to him. I sniffle, my vision still obstructed from the tears.
“What happened?” he asks after giving me a bit to calm down. “Sam. Please. Talk to me.”
It sounds like a plea, like he’s begging me to confide in him. The look in his eyes when we realized that I’d told Mountain and Alex about Jackson but not him almost crushed me.
“It’s not Jackson,” I hitch out.
Kane frowns. “What do you mean?”
I swallow hard and point to my phone in the middle of the floor.
Kane follows my finger, glancing between me and the device before he gets up to get it. He stares at the screen, jaw increasingly tensing as he reads the messages.
“That’s not Jackson who was texting me.”
He stares at me, perplexed. “Alex said he called last night.”
I nod. “He did. Well, I think he did. Alex says it was his voice. But those text messages, it can’t be him, Kane. They know my mother’s name, my brother’s. Jackson wouldn’t know that. Told me to stop digging. He wouldn’t know that either.”
“Then who?”
I shrug, my entire body shaking. “I don’t know. The person who was just following me.”
He frowns again. “Sam. I was just following you.”
“No. There was a black van.” I breathe out. “Outside the dorms. Chasing me, yelling my name, and then they sent that message.”
Kane shakes his head. “I left practice as soon as I saw you leave. Was behind you the entire time. No one but me was following you. I don’t think the van was there for you. You’re upset and I—”
“No.” I shake my head, refusing to believe otherwise. “I know what I saw, Kane.”
“Look at me.” Kane cups my face, lowering himself so that he is eye level with me. “No one is going to touch you.”
I look at him, my bottom lip trembling. “I’m scared. It can be anyone. I just—” I stop short and reach into my drawer for the files I’ve stashed there. Frantically, snatch up the picture of our mothers and tear it in half.
“Wait. Sam, what are—”
“Just get rid of it. It’s not worth it.”
“Sam. Stop.” Kane grabs my wrists, shaking me enough to force my attention to him.
My lip trembles, and my eyes sting. “Des. I can’t leave him alone in this world.”
Kane stares at me for the briefest of moments, a heavy sigh slipping from his lungs. I can see the care in his eyes, and it’s rare coming from him.
“You won’t,” is all he says, but he never lets me go. “Nothing is going to happen to you. I’ll die before I let that happen.”
My breath hitches and I search his features. He drops his gaze, but his hands squeeze me just a little tighter as the words settle around us. He’s serious.
“I… we won’t let anything get to you. Or Desmond. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”