Chapter Ten
Adrienne’s favorite thing about the Outlast Her series had always been The Sending.
Nothing had ever topped the massive blindside in Season Five when Isla and Tamsyn had handed that advantage to Vivian, and Petra had been sent home.
Adrienne had watched it curled up on the custom velvet sofa of her family’s Monaco penthouse.
She had sipped on a perfectly chilled glass of Sancerre, a box of Pierre Marcolini’s signature heart-shaped ganache resting on the armrest, while the high-pitched whine of Formula One engines echoed up from the Grand Prix circuit on the streets below.
Adrienne could still remember the goosebumps prickling her skin at the gobsmacked expression on Petra’s face. Betrayal!
It had quickly become clear that The Sending was where everything happened. Where secrets spilled, where alliances were cracked wide open, where speaking your mind was not merely welcomed; it was expected. Adrienne had been certain that she would feel right at home.
But now she wasn’t so sure.
In fact, she was beginning to doubt every decision that had led her here.
Including not helping out at camp, making a fuss at the challenge this morning, and worst of all, for fucking Valerie under a pine tree while the ocean had crashed violently against the rocks nearby.
What an idiotic move. If Adrienne had a beginner’s guide to winning Outlast Her, she was quite certain rule number one would be to leave any and all romantic entanglements at home.
Isla was a perfect example of that. She’d found the love of her life on the show, but that was it.
She’d played this game twice already, and she wasn’t one step closer to the win.
Granted, she’d sustained a concussion in her second round.
Adrienne didn’t want love. She wanted that fucking title.
She wiped her clammy hand on the back of her linen shorts.
Not that it helped. Then she took a deep breath in, but it only made her chest feel tighter than a cinched corset.
She also had this deeply worrying knot in her stomach that she wasn’t sure was because of the extra big helping of beans she had for lunch or because of the impending execution awaiting them tonight.
It didn’t ease when a production assistant in black cargos and a mic wrapped around her ear gestured toward a path that cut between the brush. “That way,” she said. “You’ll walk another two minutes and take a right. Then wait for the cue to enter the clearing.”
Adrienne followed Eden and was painfully aware of Valerie behind her.
Every now and then Valerie let out a sigh so loud she could sweep the leaves off the path.
Adrienne wondered if the sigh meant Valerie was as nervous as she was.
Since Valerie had been in this position before, could she predict the outcome of tonight’s Sending?
Did she think, without a doubt, that they’d be at the bottom?
And if they were at the bottom, would that mean Adrienne would be the one to go home?
Adrienne had been staring so hard at the tattoo of belladonna lilies wrapped around the bones of the inner ear, curling across Eden’s tricep that she didn’t notice Eden stop.
At the last second, she planted her feet and windmilled one arm slightly to avoid plowing straight into her back while also muttering a very unladylike swear word under her breath.
But she couldn’t stay mad at Eden, though she really should be more considerate, because when Adrienne looked up, every inch of irritation evaporated completely.
Last season’s Sending had taken place in the Azores, in a misty volcanic crater surrounded by steep walls of neon-green moss and hydrangeas. Adrienne had painstakingly waited for each new episode, and she couldn’t imagine a Sending venue topping that.
Yet somehow this season’s Sending location did.
This season, the landscape was stripped raw.
It was set in a sunken amphitheater of weathered, sun-bleached limestone that glowed bone-white under the full moon.
Cliffs pressed in close, and the air was thick with wild thyme.
To the side was the inky expanse of sea.
It was so dark it swallowed all the shadows.
Adrienne spotted star jasmine carpeting the stone floor and wondered where it had come from.
But then the woven willow lanterns hanging from gnarled olive tree branches took her attention, and she was reminded of Villa Mariposa perched on the sheer cliffs of Ronda, where she’d spent a week hiding from an old girlfriend.
At the center of the clearing was a timber platform that held the pedestal, and surrounding the platform were three long driftwood logs.
Adrienne had a little moment of awe as she spotted the six cups.
Vivian stepped out of the shadows of one of the twisted olive trees.
She wore a hunter-green poplin blazer dress with the sleeves rolled to her elbows, and the waist cinched with a wide tan leather belt.
Her metallic leather mules were paired perfectly, and for one second Adrienne considered quitting.
She longed for the silky, liquid-like fabric of her favorite Miu Miu slip dress and the cloud-like hug of her Khaite cashmere sweater.
She couldn’t think of anything better than clean hair falling like silk against her shoulders instead of this gritty, salty mess.
But no, Adrienne Vale wasn’t going to quit just because she felt like a shipwreck survivor.
“Welcome, contestants, to the first Sending of Season Ten of Outlast Her,” Vivian announced.
Then she walked toward the platform and turned to face them all.
“Six cups sit on the pedestal behind me, each representing a pair. The rules of The Sending are simple. In pairs, you will step up and drop a stone into the cup of another pair. Remember, you won’t be able to see stones in the cups.
No peeking.” Her smile was a warning. “The pair whose cup holds the most stones at the end of the night will find themselves at the bottom.”
Vivian paused, and Adrienne found it satisfactory this time. The words were so heavy they sank straight into her stomach like lead. She needed all the time she could get to process them.
“If you are the bottom pair, you will face a difficult decision,” Vivian went on. “You can either choose to go home together, or you can enter The Sending, where one of you will be voted off immediately.”
Adrienne got chills.
She risked a sideways glance at Valerie sitting beside her on the log. Had Valerie experienced the same dizzying rush of awe and fear? Or had the fact that she’d been here in this spot before given her a spine of steel?
Valerie wasn’t giving anything away. She stared straight ahead while her fingers remained completely still in her lap.
“The remaining partner will stay in the game, but as a ghost.” That was a new reference, one that Adrienne quite liked. “The ghost will not vote. You will not participate in the reward challenge. Not until the next Sending when someone else is left without a partner.”
Then Vivian paused and let the silence do the heavy lifting. A moment later her eyes locked onto Adrienne. She flashed a bright smile. “Adrienne, you’ve become quite the lightning rod out here this season,” she said.
“Have I?” Adrienne asked, tilting her chin up a fraction and smiling so sweetly her lips could’ve been made from sugar. She had no idea whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. But if Zeus himself wielded a lightning bolt, then surely it was a position of power.
Vivian looked thoroughly amused. “Not only were you the only one to swap pairs, but you’ve also caused a bit of an uproar at camp.”
“Uproar?” Adrienne asked, raising both brows. That seemed like an exaggeration. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Hallie,” Vivian said, turning toward the firefighter instead of explaining herself. Which was red flag number one. Adrienne had watched enough Outlast Her episodes to know that as soon as Vivian involved input from the other contestants, there was trouble.
Hallie cleared her throat and took her time.
The nerves buzzing in Adrienne’s stomach had gone full feral.
Usually, she didn’t mind being in the limelight.
In fact, she welcomed it. But this felt dangerous.
“Adrienne hasn’t exactly been a team player,” Hallie said.
“She’s got a tendency to go missing whenever there are chores to be done. ”
“Why don’t you just say it like it is,” Tamera chimed in.
She leaned forward onto her elbows and faced Adrienne, and all Adrienne could think about was how she’d become David while Goliath was looming over her from down the log.
“You float around the beach like you’re a guest at a five-star resort.
You don’t help with anything. And when any of us asks you to do something, you flat-out ignore us. ”
Adrienne hadn’t expected that slap in the face, but then again, did anyone ever? She opened her mouth to defend herself, but then Eden beat her to it.
“Tamera is right,” Eden said. “You don’t seem to realize that we’re all starving. We’re all exhausted, and yet somehow you’re above lifting a single finger.”
Fine. She’d sinned a little too hard. Maybe flatly refusing to help Eden reinforce the shelter yesterday evening hadn’t been the most tactical of ideas.
Maybe rolling her eyes when Hallie had asked her to wash out the rice pot this morning hadn’t been the best idea either.
Maybe she could’ve refilled the bottles like Safiya had asked instead of giving her a death stare.
“Adrienne,” Vivian said, turning back to her. “Do you think that’s a good strategy considering your fate is in everyone else’s hands?”
But Adrienne didn’t get a chance to reply.
“Adrienne doesn’t seem to have a strategy,” Niko said, running a hand through her shaggy hair. “Or if she does, she isn’t making it obvious. I haven’t seen her talk to anyone. I don’t even think she knows all of our names.”
“That’s not true,” Adrienne said, though not as confidently as she’d like. There was a tiny chance she’d forgotten someone’s name. Names rarely came to her unless they were attached to important people. It was a character-flaw yes, but she couldn’t help it.
“It is,” Niko shot back. “The only person I’ve seen you talk to is Valerie, and even then, I can’t imagine you’ve said much. You’re always lounging on the beach catching a tan.”
“Lounge is a strong word,” Adrienne interjected before someone else could stab her in the back with a blunt knife. “You don’t need to be chopping wood and having a hundred different conversations to have a presence in this game.”
“There’s a difference between a quiet game and an invisible one,” Eden said. “Right now, all you are is an extra mouth to feed.”
“That’s a bit harsh,” Isla added. Adrienne remembered why she’d always liked Isla. “We’ve only been in this game a few days, and I think Adrienne can still prove us wrong.”
“What do you think, Valerie?” Vivian asked. “Do you think Adrienne has shot herself in the foot? Or do you think she can salvage her game?”
Valerie didn’t speak at first. Or even after a minute. Adrienne was suddenly taken back to The Valentine, watching that door swing closed in her face. Valerie still hated her. Hooking up didn’t mean anything, and it didn’t change anything.
“I think Adrienne deserves a second chance,” Valerie finally said. “I think everyone’s focusing on what she hasn’t done, rather than what she’s capable of. Just because she doesn’t play the game the way everyone else does, doesn’t mean she isn’t playing.”
What? Adrienne could hardly believe her ears.
She was just about to turn to look at Valerie and mouth thank you, because at least someone was willing to back her, but then Valerie added, “Besides, she’s exactly the kind of shield you want to keep around.
If she’s rubbing everyone the wrong way, she’d be an easy target later. ”
Well, now, that was a brutal little twist of a knife.
Was that really all she thought of Adrienne?
A shield to keep herself alive? Adrienne tried to catch Valerie’s eye, but Valerie’s gaze remained forward.
Was Adrienne even surprised by the whole thing?
She had no time to answer the question in her head when Vivian gave her signature one clap. “Let’s vote! Hallie, you’re up first.”