Chapter 24
“Zilphia!” Sheila yells, her tone haughty and annoyed. “Come here please.”
What now?
I’m desperate for sleep. Sandman dropped me off hours ago, and even though I was bone-tired, I chose to spend some time with my grandmother.
She’s my only positive in all this madness.
I showered, then crawled into bed with her.
Momma was out on a fancy date—still is—so it was just us.
We talked and watched her favorite television shows long into the evening.
Since it was getting late and my eyes were growing heavier, I forced myself to leave her comfortable bed and trudge down to the basement.
Momma would’ve blown a gasket had she found me sleeping in her spot when she got back.
I used electrical tape to patch up the tear in the air mattress and literally just laid down.
An involuntary shudder races down my spine, recalling what caused the damage.
“Zilphia!”
Sighing, I force my feet beneath me and lumber upstairs, finding my aunt standing by the front door.
I inwardly roll my eyes at the disgusted look she gives me.
I don’t have the mental capacity to deal with her right now.
I’m exhausted and ache all over. I try my absolute best to avoid her and my cousin whenever possible. What else does this woman want from me?
“You are not allowed to have boys in my home.”
Shit. How did she find out?
I made sure to disable the alarm and cameras. My grandmother gave me the codes at the same time she gave me a key to the house. Sheila’s going to kick us out for sure now.
“I… um—”
“Quiet.” Sheila slices her hand through the air. “He’s on the porch. Tell him he isn’t welcome here.”
What is Sandman doing here now? I expected him to come back later tonight.
“You’ll have to do your whoring elsewhere,” she adds, her lips twisting in a sneer.
“I’m not a whore.” But I’m pretty sure your daughter is.
“You better find a job soon,” she snarls, narrowing her eyes at me. “The clock is ticking.”
“Actually, I already found one.” So there.
“Then I expect you both gone a lot sooner.” Sheila turns on her heel and sashays into the kitchen.
Momma and I can’t survive on one salary. She’ll need to work too, but solving world hunger is more likely than talking sense into her. My life is so fucked.
I open the front door and blink in surprise. “What are you doing here?”
“We made plans to practice at my place today, remember? For the musical,” Jace responds slowly.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, pressing my hands to my cheeks. “I totally forgot.”
“Hey, don’t worry about it.” He gives me a reassuring smile. “We can run lines another day.”
“Today is still good,” I tell him. “Just let me throw on some clothes and we can go.”
“Okay, cool. The hideous green truck parked across the street is mine.”
I smile. “Be out in a sec.”
I won’t be able to sleep now; there’s too much on my mind.
Might as well go out and be a normal teenager for a change.
I’m buckled in Jace’s four-wheel monstrosity a few minutes later, and then we’re off.
I attempt to lose myself in the newly released hits playing on the radio, but the shitstorm that has become my life weighs heavily on me.
I’m going to need a padded room after all is said and done.
“Zilphia?” Jace’s deep baritone intrudes on my dismal musings.
I look over at him. “Mmm.”
“Are you okay?” he asks, his eyebrows pinched low on his forehead.
“Yeah, of course,” I reply, forcing a small smile. “Why?”
“I called your name, like, five times.”
“Oh,” I mutter, noticing we’re parked in a driveway. “I just have a lot on my mind. That’s all.”
“Look, we don’t have to rehearse today if you’re not feeling up to it.”
“No, I really want to,” I assure him, placing my hand over his on the gearshift. “It’ll take my mind off things.”
“Okay. Let’s head inside.”
I follow Jace into his house and sit on the sofa.
He shrugs out of his hoodie and tosses it on the ottoman. “Want something to drink?”
“Sure. What do you have?”
“Gatorade, tea, or water.”
“Water is good.”
He bows theatrically. “Your wish is my command.”
I survey the one-story home. It has an open-floor design with the living room, dining room, and kitchen all sharing the same space. Small, but cozy and inviting.
“Here you go.”
“Thank you,” I say, accepting the cold bottle. “Are your parents home?”
“It’s just my father and me.” Jace settles beside me. “He works on Sundays.”
“What does he do?”
“Security over at Bright Horizon.”
“That’s an indoor amusement park, right? I heard a few kids at school talking about going.”
“Yeah,” Jace answers. “It’s a great place to hang out. Wanna go next weekend?”
“Heck yeah!” I exclaim. I’m already forgetting my troubles, for a little while at least.
“It’s a date.”
I arch an eyebrow. “A date?”
“Not a date, date,” Jace backtracks, his face turning scarlet red. “Just two people hanging out.”
I laugh. “Relax, I’m only joking.”
“Oh.” Jace laughs with me. “You had me going for a second there.”
“We should get started. I don’t want to be out too late.”
Sandman might stop by, and if I’m not there…
“Right, it is a school night,” Jace states, his tone becoming businesslike. “Have you ever seen Beauty and the Beast?”
“Is that a trick question?” I give him the side-eye. “Hello, I’m a girl. I’ve seen the animated and the live-action adaptation only, like, a gazillion times. I even saw it on ice once.”
“So you’re a Beauty and the Beast expert?”
“I sure am,” I state proudly. “Have you seen it?”
“Only the live-action adaptation,” he answers. “You know it’s all bullshit, right?”
“What’s bullshit?”
“Belle falling madly in love with the Beast. No girl would ever fall in love with a hairy, grotesque beast-man with sharp teeth. Girls are just too superficial.”
“Hey.” I lightly punch him on the arm. “Don’t lump us all into the same category. Some girls look past the physical. And isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black? All your testosterone-slinging counterparts care about are looks.”
“Not—”
The front door bursts open.
I scream, my heart jumping into my throat, as a barrage of big bodies swarms into the living room.
All dressed in black from head to toe, their faces hidden behind ski masks.
There’s no time to react. My mouth is taped shut, wrists bound behind my back, and a hood secured over my head in less than sixty seconds.
Then I’m thrown over a hard shoulder and carted outside.
This is Sandman’s doing. I know it is. I should scream, kick, do something, anything.
But I can’t move. I’m frozen. Oh God, please.
I don’t want to die. I’m placed in a running vehicle, fear palpable in my trembling limbs.
I hear doors slamming shut, then we’re moving.
Thumping and muffled screams come from my left.
Jace.
I didn’t see what happened to him in the commotion. I was unsure if he had been taken like me or killed. A loud whack followed by a pained groan startles me.
“Quiet,” comes a gruff demand. “Another sound from you and I’ll cut out your fucking tongue.”
Though the threat isn’t directed at me, I go completely still, afraid to even breathe.
These men, whoever they are, mean business.
I don’t want to do anything to incur their wrath.
The zip tie binding my wrists together is painfully tight, slicing through skin and tissue.
I bite back my whimpers, keeping as quiet as possible.
Blood pools onto the floorboard, coating my fingertips.
Where are they taking us?
I close my eyes and pray. Pray that if I do meet my end tonight, it’s quick. That’s all I can do. After what seems like an eternity, the rumbling beneath my cheek stops, and the doors creak open. I’m relieved and petrified at the same time, though the latter emotion is more prevalent.
It’s extremely loud wherever we are. Roaring engines and revelry greet my ears. A racecar track comes to mind.
“Up and at ’em, sweetheart,” someone jeers, jerking me to my feet.
I’m unceremoniously hauled across uneven terrain, losing my footing several times in my failed attempt to match my captor’s brisk stride. Bright lights are visible through the threadbare hood covering my face. What is this place?
Oh my God.
I’ve seen horror movies with this exact premise: a cult kidnaps unsuspecting teenage victims rehearsing for the school musical to sacrifice them to their demonic deity and bring about the apocalypse.
Calm down. You’re letting your imagination run away with you.
I’m callously shoved to my knees, the zip tie cut, and the hood snatched off my head. “Welcome to God’s Glory, sweetheart.”
No, no, no. It takes a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the glaring lights. Motorcycles surround me, the high beams casting the spectators in shadowy silhouettes. They’re silent now, waiting… watching.
This is far worse than any horror movie I could’ve ever imagined. Several feet away, a hulking bear of a man holds Jace captive in an unyielding headlock. Sandman looms beside them, a fierce scowl contorting his angular features.
I try to speak, to ask him why he’s doing this, but the words won’t come. I’m going to die at eighteen years old. Die before I’ve even had a chance to truly live. And my poor, innocent classmate will meet the same fate. Guilty by association.
“You really thought you could start some fairytale romance with this asshole right under my fucking nose?” Sandman spits, violent anger vibrating his hard body.
“N-no,” I croak, my gaze catching on the knife clutched in his hand.
“Did you let him touch you?” he roars, pressing the tip against Jace’s abdomen.
I vehemently shake my head. “I promise it’s not what you think!”
Sandman nods at the man holding Jace, and he loosens his grip. “What the fuck were you doing with my property?”