Chapter 43
FORTY-THREE
GRACIE
Istare down at the sketch book on my lap, not at all surprised to see the familiar face staring back at me.
He’s all I’ve been able to draw lately, whether it’s his actual face or him wearing the mask, it always comes back to him.
It’s been fun, messing with him the way I have been, but it’s got to end sooner or later.
I’d rather it be sooner.
The more we play this game, the more I fall for him, and all of the lies and secrecy become tiresome.
I hate the fact I’m not only lying to him and vice-versa, but we’re also lying to those closest to us.
I used to tell Cole everything, and now I feel like maybe he doesn’t even know me anymore.
Honestly, I’m pretty sure I don’t even know myself anymore.
I’ve always been a bad liar, and I’ve always put our family name above all else. I stuck to the script I was given, too scared to go off the path that I thought was expected of me, but who is that helping, really?
“You can do anything you put your mind to, I believe that with everything in me.”
Cole’s words echo around in my mind, and I think he might be right. My parents love me, and they’ve only ever wanted me to be happy, so why wouldn’t they want me to pursue a career that makes me happy? And why wouldn’t they want me to be in a relationship with someone who does the same?
Cole loves me, and I know he might be hurt by mine and Noah’s actions, but I know deep in my bones that he’ll see it for what it is eventually, and he’ll come around to us being together, so why are we still hiding it?
Why are we still playing this game with each other and those around us when we could just be truthful and things would be so much better?
Sure, it might take him some time, but he has to see that Noah is what’s best for me, right?
Maybe I should head over to the cottage and spend some time with everyone together? Maybe if I start being around them more, then when Cole finds out that Noah and I are together, he’ll realize things really don’t have to be any different.
As for what I plan on doing about Noah… well, that’s up to him.
I’ll give it some time to see what he does and hopefully he’ll come clean about everything and if he doesn’t, I’ll just have to consult with Freya again and come up with a new plan.
Only this time, it won’t be a plan to mess with him, but a plan for us to both come clean with each other.
With that decided, I grab my things and head out of my dorm.
It’s dark out and there’s not a person in sight as I leave my building, which isn’t unusual for this time of evening.
I only make it out to the parking lot when I feel myself being grabbed from behind.
Hands hold my biceps in a tight grip as I’m dragged backwards, my mind not even registering that I should be shouting or fighting back, so used to this with him by now.
Though if I’m being honest, I thought we were done with this whole thing.
I thought he was finally letting go of his separate persona, but it seems I was wrong.
I grunt, expecting to be spun around at any moment by Noah but instead, a cloth bag of some sort is pulled over my head, then something clasps around both of my wrists—zip ties, maybe?—and I’m suddenly being picked up. There’s something different about this, and my anxiety spikes.
What if it isn’t Noah?
What if this is someone completely different?
I fight against their hold, and I begin to think it’s worked as I feel them let me go, only for me to be maneuvered and placed down on a carpet covered surface. Before I can make any noise at all, a slamming noise sounds, and I realize I’ve just been put in the trunk of a car.
Oh shit.
It feels like forever before the car finally starts, and I have no goddamn idea what whoever it is that has me is doing while I lay there waiting. I shout for them to let me go, but I’m only met with silence and then, we’re moving.
We don’t drive for long before I feel us pulling to a stop and I hear a car door opening and closing before the trunk opens.
I still can’t see, but I can tell from the breeze that washes over me that we’re outside and not in some sort of garage.
My stomach churns, nausea curling through me from the short drive.
I’m not usually one to get car sick but fuck, travelling in the trunk of a car isn’t exactly normal circumstances.
I stay quiet as arms curl under me and I’m lifted up before he starts walking. I feel him shift as he opens a door and then he carries on walking until I’m eventually placed on something soft.
A bed, I guess.
The zip ties are taken off first, a soft snick of scissors being used is the only sound in the room.
I blink as the bag is removed from my head before looking up to find Noah wearing the mask.
My mind feels fuzzy from the drive and shock, but when I finally come to myself, a mixture of relief and rage fills me
I know he’d never truly hurt me, but the handcuffs he produces from the nightstand surprises me.
I grit my teeth and glare up at him before kicking out my leg, hitting him in the shin and making him yelp.
He stumbles backwards and I use that moment of shock to my advantage.
I launch myself at him, an almost inhuman hiss escaping my lips as I put all of my strength into shoving him past the bed before I bolt for the door, intent on getting away from him.
“Gracie,” he calls, “just hold on a minute.”
“Fuck you, asshole,” I shout just as I reach the door, but the fucker is far faster than I gave him credit for because his hand latches around my wrist before I can make it through the threshold.
Fuck.
“If you would just let me explain…” he says, his voice that deep tone of the modulator that once caused shivers to wrack their way up my spine.
But no more.
Not after this.
I really thought he was done with this shit.
“Get fucked,” I spit and try to fight against his hold, but it’s no use.
His free arm wraps his way around my waist, pinning me to him before he plucks me from the floor and manhandles me towards the bed while I struggle in his arms. He places me on the bed, a lot less gently this time before bringing the cuffs out once more.
All of the fight drains out of me as he secures my wrists to the headboard and I turn my head away from him, dismissing him.
We’re in a sparsely decorated bedroom. There’s all the furniture that you would expect—a bed, a dresser and nightstands, but it’s clear that it’s not lived in. This room either isn’t a master bedroom and is just a rarely used spare room, or the house isn’t lived in.
My guess is that this is the house that Noah’s family bought when he started his freshman year at Blackwater.
All of our families have homes here in town for when they decide to come and visit, though I’m sure Noah’s parents only bought it to keep up appearances and nothing more.
They barely see him when he goes home, and I’m sure that they’ve never bothered to come here.
“I’m sorry, Gracie,” Noah murmurs, and I pointedly ignore him, staring straight ahead at the wall rather than looking at him.
Fuck him.
He’s the reason we’re here, in this mess of a relationship and he can deal with consequences. I don’t owe him a single thing.
I’m not scared of him, I know there’s not a single part of him that would ever actually harm me, but I am mad as hell, and I’m not going to cry and beg for him to let me go.
There’s a reason I’m here, after all.
And I guess it’s about time everything comes to light—I’m just going to make sure it’s Noah who breaks first.
I’m stubborn as hell so I won’t be the first to come clean.
No way.
It strikes me then, the realization that this is the first time he and I have been face to face with the mask between us since I found out his identity.
Other than the time when he thought I was sleeping, this is the first time I’ve looked at the mask and known who was behind it and isn’t that just fucking ironic.
This is far from the worst thing he’s done to me—kidnapping me and handcuffing me to a bed—but it hurts to know that he still hasn’t given up this ruse.
What would I have thought if I still didn’t know who he was?
Would I be terrified? Would he have even done this without the catalyst that clearly sent him into a spiral?
I guess we’ll never know.