35. Mackenzie
The guys walkinto the men’s changing room, while I head for the women’s. There’s no one else here, so it’s not as though I’d bump into any other men if I’d joined them in the men’s changing area, but I need a few minutes to myself to recover. I have no doubt that if I tried to shower with those three around, they wouldn’t leave me alone for a minute. They’d have me up against the shower wall, fucking me senseless all over again. While I’m not complaining, I need ten minutes to wash the chlorine out of my hair.
I grab my towel and toiletries from the locker where I left them and head into the shower. It’s a luxurious rainfall one, with extra jets pummeling me from either side, like I’m getting a shower and a massage all in one.
I tilt back my head, letting the water drum on my scalp, and then soap and condition my hair. I used a wide tooth comb to work out the knots while it’s still slick with conditioner and then rinse that out, too. Finally, I soap down my body, washing away the remnants of Kirill’s cum.
I smile to myself and press my thighs together as a fresh rush of pleasure goes through me. I know I’m being swept along in this whole relationship, but it’s hard not to be. Plus, they said they were sorry for how they treated me.
I must be honest with myself now.
I want them. I want to be with them. I want them to be with me.
After all the terrible things in our past, is it na?ve that I’m starting to hope we might have a future?
I have no idea how I’m going to explain the nature of our relationship to my mom, or Nataniele, but they’re just going to have to deal with it. We’re all consenting adults. I’m not sure either of them has a leg to stand on anyway if they dared to protest.
I get out of the shower and dry myself off, then throw on a pair of sweatpants with a sleeveless tee. I refuse to try to wear jeans after swimming. There’s nothing worse than feeling hot and clammy, and trying to slide tight denim over damp skin.
In my bag, my cell phone is ringing.
It’s my burner phone. The one I used to call Lola when I’d been at the motel. My stomach flips. I take out the phone. I don’t know what instinct told me it was Lola, but deep down, I already knew I’d see her name on screen.
“Hey, Lola,” I say, answering the call. “How are?—”
She doesn’t let me finish my sentence. I can tell by the way she’s breathing, as though she’s been running and can’t quite catch her breath, that something is wrong.
“Oh, God, Mackenzie. I ca?—”
Her voice cuts off.
“Lola? Lo? Are you there?”
“—had me up against?—”
Her voice comes back to me, but only for a second or so before I lose her again. She sounds scared, and the small amount of what I’ve heard is enough to worry me.
I take the phone away from my ear and check the number of bars. There’s only one. Shit. The service out here is terrible.
I hold the phone higher and take a couple of steps around the changing room, trying to find a spot with better service. We’re out in the middle of the national park, so it’s not surprising it’s bad.
I catch a word, faint and distant, from down the line.
“—professor—”
My blood freezes, and I clamp the phone back to my ear. “What? What did you say, Lola?”
She sounds like she’s crying. “He threat?—”
Her voice breaks up again.
I stare at the phone in my hand. “Fuck!”
She’d said something about the professor. About Paxton. Is she trying to tell me he was threatening her? That means he’s back there. Has he given up looking for me? Or has he just decided to try a different tactic? I’d never wanted to get Lola involved, but has he been the one to involve her?
I’ve barely given Paxton a thought these past few days. I’ve been so caught up in everything with the Devils that my brain hasn’t had room for him, too. It’s been blissful, to be honest, but I should have known he’d be back to fuck me over. I still believe it was his malign presence I felt lurking in the woods on my walk with Camile. I just hope he hasn’t hurt my friend.
“It’s okay, Lola,” I say with the phone clamped back to my ear. “I’m here. I’m just trying to get better service. Give me one minute.”
I hold the phone away again, into the air, and then leave the changing room and head out into the foyer. Because Dom’s friend has closed this place for us, there’s no one else around. The bars on my phone flicker briefly to show two, and my heart lifts with hope. Buoyed, I keep going, pushing my way out of the front doors and into the fall sunshine. It’s beautiful out here, but I don’t have time or the focus to appreciate it. All I care about is finding out what Lola is talking about.
Still following the number of bars, I head down the side of the building.
I wave the phone around, still holding it in the air. It jumps to three, and I clamp the phone back to my ear.
“Hey, are you there? Can you hear me now?”
Her voice comes back clearer. “God, Mack, didn’t you hear a thing I just told you?”
“Only bits of it. Something about Paxton.”
I realize I’ve used his first name instead of calling him Professor Kassell. It’s a slipup I’d have beaten myself up for not long ago, but if he’s been to see Lola, then I guess it’s too late to worry about little things like that.
“He’s not missing anymore, babe. He was here, asking about you. No, not just asking about you. He threatened me—” Her voice broke again. “What the hell was going on between the two of you?”
My eyes fill with tears. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I was trying to protect you. I didn’t want you to get involved.”
“Well, it’s too late for that. He said he’d found your mom’s car, and that he wanted to know what V-F stood for.”
My blood runs cold. How the hell did he find the car? I’m going to be sick. He’s been at the motel? What the hell?
V-F is Verona Falls. Fuck. What did I do? Did I leave something with the university’s emblem in the car? My stomach knots, and I think I really will puke. Verona Falls isn’t the kind of place that’ll show up on a simple Google search—Nataniele pays a lot of money to make sure any online references to the place are quashed damned fast. The last thing he’d want is for regular people to start trying to apply to have their kids sent here. But even so, if Paxton’s got a lead, how long will it be before he finds me? If he found the damn car, he must have ways and means.
I have reached the end of the long wall down the side of the building, and as I round the corner, I see a dark car I don’t recognize. It probably belongs to Dom’s friend, but after this conversation, I feel jittery.
I need to tell the guys all this, anyway.
Movement comes behind me, and I start to turn, breathing a sigh of relief that they’re already here. I don’t want to be alone right now.
Suddenly, something is hooked over the top of my head, and I find myself in muffled darkness. It’s cloth—a bag of some kind.
My heart threatens to explode out of my chest with the fear and adrenaline coursing through my body. I open my mouth to scream, but a hand slams over the top of the bag, closing over my mouth and nose so I can’t scream. I also can’t breathe. I’m being smothered, and my body reacts to the threat. Panic and terror spike through my veins, and I lash out, my cell phone dropping from my fingers. I can hear Lola’s voice calling out to me even as I’m dragged off my feet. I kick against the gravel, trying to find purchase, but I’m completely helpless. And I can’t breathe.
I can’t breathe.
I. Can’t. Breathe.
Oh, God, I’m going to die.
My lungs are burning and swelling, my throat feeling like knives are being stabbed through it. I’m blind beneath the bag, but even if I weren’t, I can tell my vision is going at the edges. I can feel myself drawing inward, tunneling down into nothingness.
And then I’m gone.