Chapter 47
VARDA
Hayden climbs into the driver’s seat. I’ve never seen her like this before, pale and rigid with fear. Her hair is lank and unwashed, and from the side all I can see is her jaw, sharply set and protruding from between her greasy locks.
“What the fuck is going on, Hayden?” I keep my voice low, controlled, but she doesn’t have time to answer. Carter shuts the rear door with a slam that makes both of us wince.
“Come on. Drive,” he says shortly.
The back seat is dark, but I can still see it: the gun, trembling in his hand. A black so matte and heavy it’s somehow visible in the darkness, a deeper shadow among shadows. My breath is shaky as we pull away from the side of the road.
“I don’t understand. I don’t know why you’re doing this.
” My mind’s spinning. I’m trying to piece together what is happening, to go from A to B to C.
Last time I saw Carter he was losing his mind about Hayden cheating.
Last time I saw him he was acting like I was a murderer.
So what does he think now? What does he know?
Has he seen Max’s confession? Does he somehow know I’ve seen the Ring footage?
All I know for sure is that Carter is wild with emotion, his hand shaking—the gun never moving off me, though. He looks like he’d be just as happy to tear me open with his bare hands as shoot me. I have to be careful. I can’t set him off.
“Where are we going?” I say softly.
“Shut up.” Carter runs his free hand roughly through his hair, knuckles white. “Shut up, shut up, shut up.”
“Carter…” I start.
“SHUT UP.” He jabs at my shoulder with the gun. I freeze, my body humming with electricity.
We’re hurtling through the dark, down one ranch road and onto another. No streetlights out here, not much traffic. No houses.
“Fuck!” Carter screams suddenly, kicking at the seat in front of him in frustration. “How did this get so fucked up?”
I assume the question isn’t actually aimed at either of us, but Hayden murmurs something in reply that I can’t quite make out. Carter must hear her, though, because he lets out a bitter snarl of laughter.
“It doesn’t matter what you wanted, Hayden, because this is what’s happening now. Give me your fucking phone.”
It takes a beat before I realize he’s talking to me. “My … phone?”
“Yes, bitch, your phone.” He gestures with the gun and holds out his other hand. My heart stammers against my sternum.
“It’s in my pocket. Can … can I reach for it?”
He lets out a sharp breath. “Just pull it out and put it in my hand.”
My mind spins. There’s got to be something I can do. Some way I can send a message, some signal I can tell my phone to blast out to everyone. But when I pull the phone out of my coat pocket he snatches it the moment I have it unlocked.
Then the car is quiet. He’s typing something—I can just see him from the corner of my eye. But the gun is still aimed right at my temple. And Hayden is still gripping the wheel, taking us farther and farther away from everything and everyone I love.
When we finally pull up to our destination, I can’t decide whether to laugh or sob. Because of course this was where we were going. Of course it was our destination, all along.
We were always going to end up back at Koenig Ranch. Back at the place where everything went wrong.