5. Laney
I bolt upright with a gasp, yanking myself from the grip of a nightmare where I’d been back at the waterfall and all I could see were the guys’ bodies floating face down on the surface of the pool.
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t wade through the water to reach them, and I knew, with every second I wasted, they were all dying, and I’d be completely alone.
When I come fully conscious, I have no idea where I am. The big white bed, the floor length drapes, the thick carpets… then it comes to me. I’m in the hotel in Ottawa. I wonder how long we’ll be here before we get to go home.
My heart thumps, and anxiety washes over me.
It isn’t only the thought of going home again that’s affecting me, it’s also the idea of getting back on a plane.
Maybe we should refuse, and drive instead, but that’ll take days.
Besides, I know I need to get over this fear.
Darius is bound to need to fly for his work, and I can hardly have a panic attack every time.
Statistically, I believe, flying is far safer than driving, and I doubt there are many people in the world who survive one plane crash only to end up in another. Common sense says that I’m safer now than I’ve ever been, but convincing my heart of that is something else.
I wonder if the others are awake yet. My stomach gurgles, and I realize I can order room service.
I don’t, though. The thought of ordering someone to come to my room makes me uneasy.
What if they take advantage of me being here alone?
What if they’re not who they say they are? What if they try to hurt me?
I don’t want to be frightened of the world, but I am.
Instead, I make sure the door is locked and the additional latch on, and then I go to the bathroom and take another shower.
Hot water pummels my neck and shoulders as I stand there, my head bent, my eyes half-shut.
Fragranced steam fills my lungs. I want the water to scald away the layer of my skin Smith and his men touched, and for it to do the same for my insides.
I want to be able to step out, reborn and renewed, but that’s impossible.
I seem to be missing a lot of time while lost in thought.
By the time I step out, the skin of my hands and toes are as wrinkled as an old lady’s, and a strange, bloodless white.
It instantly pulls me back to both my nightmare and the time after we’d gone over the waterfall.
My breath catches, and I struggle to draw another.
Will life be this way from now on? With every tiny thing affecting me like I’ve been hit by a train?
I manage to dry myself off and dress in the clothes that have been provided—in this case, a pair of black sweatpants, a white t-shirt, and some sneakers.
There’s underwear, too, which I put on, reluctantly.
It’s not a style I’d normally choose for myself—too plain and practical, like something someone’s mother might wear.
One thing I am looking forward to about getting back to the trailer is being able to wear my own clothes again.
A knock comes at the door, and I jump.
“It’s me.” Reed’s voice comes through the wood.
I exhale a shaky breath and hurry over to open it.
I let him in. “Hi.”
“You sleep okay?” he asks.
I shrug. “Nightmares.”
“I know how you feel.”
His reply surprises me. “You have them, too?”
“Sure. I expect Darius and Cade do, too, though Cade would never admit to it.”
I let out a sigh. “I just want to go back, you know.” I correct myself. “I mean, not back to before you came into my life, but back to the person I was before the crash. I feel like I hardly even know who I am anymore.”
My confidence is at an all-time low. I’m wrung out with anxiety. I’d had a hard time growing up with my mom, but being forced to be independent had given me a kind of strength. I wanted that back.
“It’s really soon yet, Laney. Be gentle with yourself. Things will get easier.”
“I hope so.” I turn my thoughts to the brothers. “Are Darius and Cade awake yet?”
“I’m not sure. I came to check on you first. You hungry? Thought we could get some breakfast.”
Fresh nerves fizzle through me. “What? In the hotel restaurant?”
“We’re going to need to face the public again at some point.”
“You just said it was really soon.” Panic heightens my tone.
He lifts a hand in a stop sign. “It’s okay. We can order room service again. It was only a suggestion.”
“Thanks. The thought of sitting in a restaurant and having everyone stare while I’m trying to eat is horrifying.”
He smiles, but it’s tinged with sadness. “It’s something we’re all going to need to get used to, though.”
“Is it? Maybe I can just live on takeout for the rest of my life. Or I could move into a hotel room and order room service every day. I’ll make the airline pay as a result of traumatizing me.”
“You don’t need to do that. I can cook for you at home.”
I jolt at his words. “At home? In the trailer?”
He gives a small, confused laugh. “No, of course not. Why would I cook in the trailer?”
“Because that’s where I’m going. I need to go home. I already told you.”
“Well, sure, to pick up some stuff, but not to stay for any length of time.”
My frustration mounts. “You haven’t been listening to me. I need to figure out who I am now. I need some time and space to do that.”
I’m definitely not the same person I was before the crash, but I’m also not the same person I was at the cabin. I have to learn how to live with the person I need to be, but right now she’s a stranger to me.
“Anyway,” I continue, “don’t you need to go home, too? Back to Maine.”
They have a house in Maine. I know nothing about the place. I’ve never seen so much as a picture. But I don’t expect them to live out of hotels for me.
He stares at me. “No. Are you crazy? You think we’d leave you and go and live thousands of miles away?
“I…” I hadn’t really known what I’d thought. But yeah, I guess that’s exactly what I assumed would happen. Darius would get on the road again, make the most of his moment in the spotlight, and he’d need Cade with him.
“Home is wherever you are, baby-girl.”
My chest tightens. “You can’t all come and live in the trailer. There’s nowhere near enough room.”
He laughs. “No, but we can rent somewhere nearby. I know you say you want your space, but we’re not giving you thousands of miles worth of space. I want you to know that we’ll be near if you need us. If you need any of us.”
The well of tears behind my eyes breaks, and I wipe them away. “Thanks, Daddy.”
He pulls me into a hug and kisses the top of my head. “Silly girl. You’re family now. We’re not going to abandon you.”
I appreciate that he’s not trying to pressure me into returning to their house in Maine with them, either. I know they’re used to being on the road, but they must want some normality, too. Maybe stuff like their own clothes and own bed aren’t as important to men.
Reed orders more room service—to my room this time—and Cade and Darius come and join us.
“We’re going to need to speak to the cops soon,” Reed says. “Is everyone happy about what we’re going to say? We have to make sure we all stick to the same story, or at least close enough that it’s not going to raise any red flags.”
Darius tightens his lips. “We didn’t do anything wrong. None of what happened was our fault.”
“I know that, but if we don’t want there to be any chance of them finding the cabin and rescuing Smith and his men, then we have to make sure they don’t find either the cabin or the plane, at least not until after winter.
There’s no way they’ll survive a winter out there with no stores or preparation.
We can help the police and search and rescue teams locate the bodies of the pilots and the flight attendant come spring so the families will be able to say their goodbyes.
The police aren’t going to make this easy for us.
They will separate us when they’re questioning us, and they’ll go over things again and again, trying to trip us up. ”
“Why?” I ask. “It’s not like we’re the criminals.”
“It’s simply how they question people to make sure they’re telling the truth.” Reed takes a breath. “Remember, we mustn’t mention the river. We say we came across it after several days of walking. We don’t want them to know the cabin was anywhere near it.”
“They’re going to ask where our water source came from,” Cade says.
Reed thinks for a minute. “There was an old well on the property that was still usable.”
I don’t like the idea of being questioned, though I know I have no choice.
I’ve never been a good liar. My cheeks always flare red, and I’m always certain I’m going to get called out on it.
Guilt wedges inside me that we won’t be helping the families to recover the bodies of their loved ones, either, but then I think of Smith and his gang, and my heart races, and I grow short of breath.
My fear of them finding us again is far greater than any guilt I might feel.
If they make it back to society, they will find us and kill us, I have no doubt about it.
And they’ll probably gang rape me first in front of the guys just to prove that they can.
We could send the police after them, tell them exactly what had happened, but men like that will have contacts on the outside they’ll be able to send after us.
It’s safer all round if we do everything we can to ensure they die out there, just like we would have done if we hadn’t been able to escape.
Our breakfast arrives, and we fall silent as we feast on pastries and crisp bacon, orange juice and coffee.
A part of me wants to apologize to them all for what happened last night, but I’m also too embarrassed to bring it up again. What if I freak out every time we have sex? I tell myself that’s not going to happen. It was the blindfold that flipped me into a dark place, not the men fucking me.
The hotel room phone rings, and we all turn to stare at it. Who could be phoning me here?