58. Harper
Chapter 58
Harper
The bus stop is deserted. According to the schedule, I have three hours to wait for the next one to arrive, and this isn’t exactly the best place to hide.
I lost sight of the guys from the lake a few minutes ago when the path leading up to the main road took me behind a grove of oak trees planted near the verge. There are two trucks and a sedan parked in the nearby lot. The one truck has so much dust on it I doubt it’s been moved in weeks. But one—or both—of the other vehicles could belong to those four guys from Cinderhart Academy.
What I need is someplace to lay low until the next bus arrives, or someone driving past I can hitch a ride from. I’d never have considered hitching a ride in the last town I lived in, but I doubt Cinderhart has a bunch of serial killers roaming the street.
I slip my backpack’s straps back onto my shoulders and, after a brief pause, head for the ablution block on the other side of the parking lot. It’s a small building, and there aren’t any locks on the doors so it seems pointless to try and hide inside, but at least I’ll be out of sight from anyone coming up the road from the lake.
Just in case those cars do belong to the CA boys, and just in case they decide to come up here, I don’t want them to see me.
But as I slip around the concrete wall of the public restroom, two guys come walking across the road toward me. At first I don’t think they’re part of the group that I met down at the lake…until I recognize the one with the rolled-up sleeves.
Even in my drunken state, I realize that the fact that they’ve split up, that two of them walked past the bus stop, crossed the road, and then doubled back means I’m in huge shit.
I spin around, heading for the entrance of the restroom, hoping I can somehow barricade myself inside one of the stalls.
But instead I walk into the guy who’d been coming up behind me.
“There you are,” he says. It’s the same guy who spoke to me down by the lake. Dark hair, light green eyes. His smile is downright sinister . “ We were worried about you.”
I turn to sprint away, but he catches hold of my backpack and drags me back. I struggle out of the straps as he growls and grabs hold of my hoody, but I manage to tear away from him before he can get a proper grip.
Then I’m running.
I narrowly avoid one of the pair up ahead snatching me when he appears out of nowhere from around the restroom’s wall. I struggle desperately to keep my feet on the slope heading toward the lake as I skid down it to escape. But I’m too drunk, too scared, too fucking useless . I trip, breathless screams ripped from me as I tumble down the embankment.
When I hit the bottom, I roll onto my side, spitting out grass and choking on the dust puffing up from the dirt road.
I don’t feel pain. That will only come once the booze has worn off. But I feel heavy and clumsy when I try to push myself up.
Someone grabs my hoody and hauls me off the ground. Two guys appear in front of me, then a third. They’re all wearing those same evil smiles.
“Why do you keep running away?” a guy with light-brown hair asks. Two, maybe three years older than me. He runs a hand through his hair and shares a meaningful look with his friends. “I think we should tie her down.”
“For her own good,” one of them pipes up.
“Don’t want her hurting herself,” says another.
“It’s obvious she’s had too much to drink.”
“We’d be doing her a favor.”
“We’d be doing the community a favor.”
They reason it out between them in lightning-fast quips while the guy behind me throws an arm around my throat. I don’t even manage a scream before he starts choking me out. I scratch and claw at his arm, but I can’t hurt him through his blazer.
Darkness bleeds into the edge of my vision as one of the guys slides a slim backpack off his shoulder. He drops it to the floor and rummages inside. I’m not in the least surprised when he brings out a neatly looped rope.
When he comes closer, I use the grip around my throat as leverage so I can aim a few kicks at fucking groin. He lets out a low chuckle. “Easy there, tiger. We’re helping you, remember?”
“Fuck off!” I manage, but the words are too strained to have an impact.
The guy holding me leans close. “You’re being a real ungrateful little bitch.” He applies more pressure, and suddenly I can barely lift my legs. The guy with the rope comes closer.
No, please. This can’t be happening. I swear I’ll never drink again. I swear I’ll?—
I feel myself start to drift. To let go. It’s easier than fighting. Easier than trying to stop this.
Isn’t it always?
A black Impala comes out of nowhere and slams into the two guys furthest from me.
“The fuck?” the guy holding me yells.
Air and life and light flood back into me as he shoves me away from him. I tumble to the ground, vaguely aware that the Impala is kicking up a cloud of dust as the driver slams on the brakes and throws it into a spin.
There’s a yell, the sound of a car’s engine revving, and then shoes hitting the ground as the CA gang runs away.
Then silence.
I push onto my hands and knees, lifting my throbbing head and locking onto the black car. The engine rumbles for a minute before shutting off.
The car door opens, and a dark head emerges.
The moment I recognize Jude, my heart comes apart. He walks over to me, grabs me under the arms, and lifts me like a kid.
“Are you okay?”
I manage a nod, my throat and chest too tight for words. He slings an arm around my waist and leads me to the black car’s passenger-side door. As I’m falling into the seat, I turn and try to get out again. “My bag,” I mumble when he pushes me down with a hand on my shoulder.
He goes back and fetches my backpack, tossing it in the back seat as he gets into the driver’s side.
My head lolls against the seat before I can control it. I’ve never felt this exhausted in my life. I try to keep my eyes open, but I can’t.
It’s relief, too, I guess. Because while I hate Jude and everything he’s done to torment me, there are worse things in the world. Worse people. People like Sean. Like those four guys who were about to tie me up.
God knows what they were going to do after that.
Jude is malicious and spiteful and downright hateful…but he’s not evil.
At least, not in my experience.
“Did they…” Jude cuts off, clears his throat. A dark look crosses his face. “Did they touch you?”
I shake my head, my eyes drifting closed. “You saved me,” I murmur, and then roll my head to look at him.
His black eyes are intent, his head dipped forward a little as if he’d been trying to look into my eyes before I turned. He studies my face, my throat, my clothes.
“You should sleep. It’s a long drive back.” He puts the car into drive and pulls away.