Chapter 17
Kayla
The carousel has been making weird sounds for a week, and Clay agreed to have a look at it after Nixie told him that since we broke it, we’d better fix it. He has no experience fixing anything here, but Cipher has been MIA, so apparently Clay’s words were, “How hard could it be?”
“It’s the belt,” Clay says.
“It’s not the belt,” Ares argues.
Vero is lying on his back underneath the platform, while Brawley squats down and shines a flashlight underneath so Vero can see.
I’m sitting on the platform, my legs dangling off the side, watching them all with amusement. None of them can agree on what is wrong. Mostly since none of them know anything about machines, not that there is any way they would admit that.
Vero’s hand appears from under the platform. “Pass me the flashlight.”
“You don’t need it,” Brawley says. “You have been under there for ten minutes and haven’t touched a thing.”
“I’m assessing to see what is wrong, but I can’t see shit.”
“You are lying on your back, trying to look busy.”
“I have been finding a comfortable position, and I don’t see you on the ground. Flashlight please.”
Brawley sighs and passes it into the hand sticking out from beneath the carousel.
“Thank you . . . Oh, wow.”
“What?” Clay asks.
“Nothing,” Vero responds.
I laugh. “You just said, wow.”
“I can see now.”
Ares pinches the bridge of his nose. “What did you find?”
“I didn’t find anything—I can just see now and there are cobwebs.”
“So you’re scared of cobwebs now?” Brawley teases, rolling his eyes.
“I am not scared, but where there are webs there are spiders.”
“Get out from under there,” Brawley tells him, grabbing his leg.
Vero kicks him away. “I’m fine, I can make peace with spiders—I am bigger and scarier than them.”
I press my hand over my mouth to stop laughing.
“It has to be the belt,” Clay says again.
“It isn’t,” Ares doubles down.
“Then what is it, smartass?” Clay fires back.
“If you stop thinking about the belt, we can look at the motor housing.”
Brawley huffs. “Neither of you knows what you’re talking about.”
Both Clay and Ares look at him. “Do you know what it is then?” Clay asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
“No, but neither do either of you.”
Vero’s hand appears again from under the platform. “I would like to come out now.”
Brawley helps Vero out, and as he gets up, I spot cobwebs in his short hair, but I don’t plan to be the one to tell him.
“I think we need Cipher,” Vero concludes.
“He isn’t here,” Ares says.
“I’m going to get food,” I say, sliding off the platform. I’m officially bored. “If I listen to another five minutes of all of you arguing, I may lose my mind.”
“Get me something with sugar,” Vero blurts.
“Get him something without sugar,” Brawley adds, and I laugh.
“You will all get what you get.”
I walk over to the gate, grab my jacket and water bottle from the ground beside it, then take a long drink before screwing the lid back on.
I leave them to it and cut through the grounds to the housing part of the island.
It’s quieter than normal today, with most of the staff in town for their monthly shopping trip.
It seems weird to me, but most don’t like to leave the island often, and Ares told me they all go in together—safety in numbers and all that.
Not that I think they need to worry, as I’m sure people will give them a wide berth.
I make it to the house and dig through the kitchen, pulling together some snacks for everyone. I load it all into a bag and grab my water bottle from the counter, drinking the rest of it before picking up the bag and heading back outside.
Realization hits me; this is very domestic. When did this become something I wanted? I’m here not because it’s convenient, but because I want this.
The walk back feels longer, and by the time I reach the cornfield, my feet feel heavy and my legs are getting tired. I stop and take a few breaths. I just need to eat something, I tell myself as I start walking again.
I don’t make it more than a few steps when my hands begin feeling weird, and when I look down at them, they blur. I try to tighten my grip on the bag, but my hands and brain don’t co-operate.
Something is wrong.
I stand still and try to think clearly. What the fuck is going on with me? My head feels fine, but my body feels weighted. The guys are too far away to call out, and as I turn around, I can’t see anyone—not even Cave.
“Hello, care bear.”
I freeze as the voice comes from behind me, from between the cornstalks. It’s one I know all too well, and my stomach drops. But I can’t run; I can barely move. Though I manage to turn around slowly, ready to face my worst nightmare.
He appears with his hands in his pockets and a smile on his face. If you didn’t know him, that face could fool you into thinking he is safe. He looks older than when I last saw him.
“You look good,” he says. “This place suits you.” Looking around, he smiles again. “Interesting choice, but very on-brand for someone who liked to play the victim.”
Run.
I tell my legs to move, but nothing happens. My hand drops the bag, no longer able to grasp it. The bag opens, and the food spills out on the ground, but he simply laughs.
“It’s okay,” he says, walking toward me. “I know you want to run. You always liked making things harder than they had to be.” He tilts his head and smirks. “But the drug speeds up the inevitable. You were never getting away from me, care bear. You know that.”
I open my mouth to scream, but no sound comes out. There are four men who would kill for me, but I can’t get their attention. The drug has rendered me useless.
When Aaron reaches out and takes my arm, I want to be sick, to fight back, but my body isn’t capable of doing anything right now.
“I wasn’t going to rush this,” he says as he pulls me along, each step like lead.
“I have been patient and waited years to come back to you. Everything was planned out. But these men you have attached yourself to are smart, and the PI was a nice inclusion. I was running out of time,” he says and laughs.
“You didn’t know about the PI, did you? They are already keeping things from you. That’s not love. I loved you. Me.”
My heart swells in my chest. Clay trusted my feeling that something wasn’t right, and I hold on to that thought. Surely they will soon realize I haven’t come back and come looking for me.
Aaron walks us behind the cornfield and toward the cemetery, and I curse because I saw Noa walking out with Vesper earlier. Dread moves through me; I know whatever he has planned isn’t good. I really hope they come for me soon.
As I’m dragged through the cemetery, memories play through my mind. Of being handcuffed to Vero and how Clay had me face-first in the dirt in a grave. I wish I could go back to that time.
“I thought about you every day, hoping you would come and visit. I figured you would be there when I got out, but you ran away from me.”
I ran because I finally figured out what you were.
“So I found you, but I needed to watch you first and make sure you were okay. Then I saw you with them,” he says, still dragging me through the cemetery. “I told myself it wasn’t what it looked like. That you wouldn’t do that to me.”
The headstones pass us in a blur, and I focus on them and not on him.
“But it was what it looked like—you replaced me. Do you know what that does to a man? To love someone that much and have them erase you?” Then he changes tack.
“I’m not angry,” he says, which I can tell is a lie.
It’s how things always started. “You need to know this isn’t what I wanted.
You made this happen. If you’d waited, we could have started over. ”
That was never going to happen.
“But you couldn’t wait, and here we are.” He stops walking and stares down at the open grave site, fitted with a coffin. “The funny thing is, this is the most like yourself you have looked since I found you.”
He forces me to look down at the hole below us.
“Fitting, don’t you think? Since you like it so much here.
” Aaron’s hand tightens on my arm. “You were supposed to come back to me when I got out. You know what you did. I followed you here and . . .” His voice changes.
“You came here and fucked your way through men you didn’t even know, men who were not me. Like I meant nothing to you.”
You don’t mean anything to me. You’re the reason I check the locks twice. You’re the reason I moved. You’re the reason I spent years learning how to breathe again.
“You should have waited. You should have been there when I got out. If I can’t have you, then no one gets to. That’s how this works. Forever, that is what you told me once, and I gave you everything.”
You gave me nothing, I think. You held me on a fucking leash.
Aaron lifts me, and with the drug pumping through my system, I can’t fight back—I can’t scream.
He jumps down into the coffin, and we hit the wood hard.
Pain shoots through my body and tears roll down my face as he maneuvers my body so I’m lying on my back.
He stands over me and looks down. This grave is not deep, just a prop they probably would have put a fake skeleton inside to scare visitors with.
Aaron shakes his head and pulls himself out of the hole, then leans down and pushes the lid closed.
I’m enveloped in darkness. Panic sits under my skin, and it’s getting hard to breathe.
I try to keep going—in and out—but it gets harder and harder as the seconds tick by.
The first sound of dirt landing on top of me has me opening my mouth, willing a sound to come out . . . anything. But nothing comes. The dirt keeps piling on top of me as the tears roll down my face.
Please come for me, please, I beg silently.
I can’t die like this.
I haven’t told Vero that I think I love him back, or told Clay I actually like him calling me his. Nor have I confided in Brawley how he makes me feel just because he loves Vero so much, and how I want him to love me with even a sliver of that intensity. And I want to tell Ares that I need him.
The dirt keeps coming, but it’s more muffled now, along with the words, “It didn’t have to end like this. You brought this on yourself.”
I would rather die than be with him again. My body suddenly feels heavier, my head leaden, and my eyes close even as I will them open. I just need to be patient; I know they will come for me.
“Roses are red, and the dead know your name. I take what is buried. I devour what came. I am patient, I am waiting, I never forget.
I am the field that swallows your footprints. I am the dark at the end of the row. I am the thing that was here before you arrived, and I will be here long after you go.
You cannot bargain with me. You cannot run. I have already decided what has to be done.”
“Your riddle doesn’t make sense.”
“For I am the Scarecrow, and that now makes two.”
Are you ready for Part Three? Do you really think the Scarecrow saves the girl?