“He said that he wants to be the only one to make me happy, and it isn’t even that unfair. I just, I don’t know if I can let him choose for me. I love them, D, and I don’t think I can let them go. If I choose one, then surely I have to choose them all. Otherwise, what was the point in all of this?” I bury my face in my hands, as she smacks her lips together.
“Okay, maybe he wasn’t such a bad guy then. I get it I do, but can you really see this working out there? Do you think you can keep your head straight with four alpha males on the scene?”
“Five,” I mumble, and she chokes on air.
“Oh sorry, Homegirl, five then,” she snickers, and I pull my lips to the side as I try not to laugh with her.
“Probably not, but I can’t give them up. I don’t like feeling pressured, the whole point of being excited about graduation is being able to make my own decisions. Who I want to be with, where I want to go. I don’t even dare tell him about our little trip. I don’t want to let him go, but I can’t let him control my life either. Shit, D, do I have to let him go?” My stomach bottoms out as I stare at her, and she looks off to the side.
“Only you can answer that one. Don’t decide tonight though, Homegirl, you really need to sort your head out. Seriously, you’ll make the right choice but just make sure it’s the right one for you, and not for them.” She nudges me with her shoulder, and I nudge her right back.
“Okay, let me go fix my makeup, and we’ll back down.” I plant a sloppy kiss on her cheek, and she squeals like a banshee, before settling into a fit of giggles.
“Go on get yourself sorted.” She fixes her hair and I walk into my bathroom feeling a little lighter. I might not know what I’m going to do, but at least I have one constant, Daria freaking Lewiston.
The door opens and I roll my eyes, I’m surprised they gave us this long, must have been nearly five minutes, damn must be a record somewhere.
“Hey, what do you…” her words cut off as a loud thump sounds in the living room, I rush through and come up short when I see someone standing over her.
My brain isn’t computing the scene properly, I know who it is, but I can’t believe it. Shit, D.
“What have you done?” I rush to her side, throwing all self preservation out of the window, as I feel around for her pulse.
“She’s not dead, just out cold. She’ll wake up soon, with a headache probably, but it won’t kill her.”
I look up at him, his hair is flat against his head, eyes wild, and his pupils are taking up the entirety of his eyes. He’s covered in a sheen of sweat, and he can’t stand still.
“What are you on?”
“Nothing, you know me, Luna. I would never do drugs.” Cole looks down at me as relief courses through me when I feel the steady thrum of her pulse.
“Why w-would y-y-you do this? She’s n-never done a-anything to you.”
“She cheated on my brother, didn’t she? Seems like she deserves it to me.” He can barely meet my eyes as he stares at the door.
He’s scared of someone coming to look for me. As he should be, they’ll never let him get away with this.
“Go and get changed, we don’t have long.” He points to the bedroom door and I balk.
“You’re j-j-joking. I’m not going anywhere with you.” I get up and move towards the door, before a weird click sound feels the air.
“The head injury won’t kill her,” he says coldly. “But this might.” I turn around to see a gun in his hand. I watch as he cocks it and levels it with Daria head. “I doubt she’ll survive a wound like this, but it’s up to you if you want to chance it.”
“I’ll g-get ch-changed.” I slowly move past him, before dashing into my room.
“None of the Academy clothes either. Your stuff, Luna. I know you still have it, the sooner we’re out of here the better, and you’ll finally remember who you really are.” He hasn’t followed me into the bedroom, and my heart is hammering away in my chest as I stand at the closet door.
I’m lost in my own head, freaking out over Daria and what Cole could do. I never wanted to believe that he could be the bad guy in this story, but a good guy wouldn’t do this. What if he hit her too hard? What if he’s done more damage than even he’s realized? Or he does know, he just doesn’t care. I don’t know how long I’ve been in here but I jump as his voice sounds from behind me. I didn’t even know he had come into the bedroom.
“Get changed,” he shouts, I whirl around as he grabs the strap of my dress and tears it. A sob breaks through, and his eyes widen for a moment. Almost as if he’s horrified by his own actions.
“Please, d-don’t watch me.” I look at the floor, and flinch as he tilts my head up.
“I respect you. I will turn my back and let you dress in relative privacy. You have two minutes.” He does as promised and turns around, and I quickly slide my dress the rest of the way off, and throw it into the bedroom. Glad for the false sense of privacy the closet is giving me right now.
My heels are next, and I don’t even look as I throw them as well, such a shame they don't hit him. I would have enjoyed that. I quickly find a pair of jeans that look close to my old style, and an oversized sweatshirt, but I hesitate when it comes to getting my shoes. There’s a reason I stopped wearing my Doc Martens, but I can’t remember why… Shit, the tracker.
I glance over my shoulder to see that he’s still watching the wall, but I don’t trust this version of him.
“I’m g-getting d-dressed now,” I whimper, and he nods his head, but doesn’t say anything.
I pull on the jeans and almost weep when I feel a long tube in the pocket. Thank you, D, for always telling me to keep one on hand, you may have just saved my life. I check over my shoulder once more before writing a quick message on the wall, and move the clothes around enough that he hopefully won’t see it. I’m screwed if he does, but at least I know I’ve tried.
I pop the shoes and sweater on, before moving over to him, and slowly edging my way past.
“There’s my girl. Take the lipstick off.” He looks at my mouth, and I grab a remover wipe before wiping it off.
“Let’s go, and stay quiet. Unless you want me to add more people to the list,” he sneers, before grabbing my hand, and dragging me out of the room.
He’s not rough, if anything, his hold is gentle, and it only makes me feel worse. This is because I started something with him three years ago, and now D is suffering for it. I just hope someone comes looking for us soon, and I didn’t hide the words too well. Please, find me. Darius. I’m counting on you.
We pull up outside a storage facility. I don’t know how long we’ve been driving, but I don’t think it’s been that long at all.
“Come on, baby. One quick stop and then you’ll be free.”
“I’m not your baby,” I throw back at him, as I climb out of the car, my fear being replaced by anger, just the way I like it.
“You don’t know what you’re saying. Don’t you get it, Luna? That place fucks with your head, it warps your mind until you don’t even recognize yourself anymore. Look at what they had you wearing, and the makeup. That isn’t you, and no way would you have ever fallen for those kind of guys before. It was always supposed to be me, you felt it once before, and you will feel it again.” He gets in my face, before grabbing my arm, and dragging me behind him.