Chapter Twenty-Seven
Hendrix
The sheets were pooled around my hips, my wide-open eyes staring at the dark ceiling. I’d tried to go to bed after watching a movie with my aunt, but I’d just ended up lying awake, wrapped in the gloomy silence.
It had been a full twenty-four hours, and I still hadn’t heard from Donna or her friends. I’d wanted so badly to follow them home, barge into the house and help them take care of her, but I knew they’d just had a bomb dropped on them. She didn’t make it easy on any of us. So I gave them space, didn’t call or text. But as I stared into the blackness, running everything over in my mind for the millionth time, I wondered if that was a mistake.
Maybe she was waiting for me to reach out, show her I cared. I frowned at the thought. Hadn’t my actions over the past few months shown that already? Yeah, I’d told her friends shit she didn’t want them to know, but I had no other choice.
It was kind of bullshit that, after everything, she hadn’t even texted to tell me she was OK. But then, it wasn’t as if we were together—she didn’t owe me anything. And I didn’t owe her jack shit either. So I’d deleted every message I’d half written throughout the day.
The uncertainty was killing me, but I was done chasing Donna Mead.
With a frustrated sigh, I sat up, rested my elbows on my knees, and rubbed my sore eyes. I’d hardly slept after coming home the night before. I was exhausted, and yet I was still completely incapable of sleeping.
Resigned to putting on another movie to drown out my thoughts, I was just getting out of bed when a sound from the window made me pause. I turned toward it and frowned. It sounded like a tap, maybe a branch knocking against the glass. Except there wasn’t any wind—or any trees near my window.
The sound came again—a low ping, something solid but small hitting the glass. I edged toward the window and pulled back the curtain.
Donna stood in my yard, her hand raised as if she was about to throw something, but she lowered her arm when she saw me. That crazy bitch was throwing pebbles at my window even though we both had perfectly functioning phones.
I shook my head, torn between amusement and annoyance. What the hell?
She held my gaze for a moment, then folded her arms and cocked her head, silently gesturing for me to come outside.
I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed, but when I looked at her again, I knew I’d go. I’d go wherever she wanted me, whenever she needed me. Because I had it bad for the petite blonde bundled in a gray coat, standing in my yard in the middle of the night.
After giving her one nod, I turned from the window to pull on sweatpants and a hoodie, then picked up my shoes and padded softly down the hall. I wasn’t trying to do anything behind my aunt’s back, but I didn’t want to disturb her either.
The night air was crisp and cold, and I zipped the hoodie all the way up as I stepped out the back door. Donna turned and walked to the back of the yard as soon as I appeared, edging past the shrubs at the bottom of the property. I stuffed my hands into my pockets and followed.
Donna waited for me on the walking path that ran down the backs of the yards, along a nature reserve on the other side. She waved her phone at me, then silently held her hand out and gave me an expectant look.
This behavior was weird even for her.
“You wa—”
She slapped her hand over my mouth, cutting off my words. I was so stunned I didn’t even know what to do. With her phone still in hand, she pressed one finger to her lips in a silent order to be quiet.
I frowned at her.
She ran her hand over the pockets of my hoodie, making my abs tighten at her touch, then moved to the ones on my pants. Several dirty jokes ran through my mind, making me smirk, but I remained silent. Even so, she still gave me a withering look as she located my phone and removed it.
My smile remained in place as she hid both phones under a bush and gave me another “let’s go” gesture. She was acting really weird, but I still followed without hesitation.
We walked the silent path shoulder to shoulder, the half moon and occasional back porch light the only illumination.
Once the path veered away from the houses and into the woods, Donna finally spoke.
“Sorry about that. Harlow insisted on no phones.”
“Uh . . . what?” I chuckled. “That doesn’t actually explain anything.”
“I know. Just . . . come on.” She picked up the pace, and after another few minutes of walking, we emerged into a clearing surrounded by trees.
Harlow and Amaya were bundled into coats, shoulders up near their ears against the cold. Next to them, Turner had his arms around Mena, pressed in close behind her. But it was the presence of Drew—the quarterback of the football team and Will’s friend—that made me pause.
Every muscle in my body tensed, ready for . . . I wasn’t even sure what. I had no idea what this bizarre situation was about.
“Dark woods. Middle of the night.” I made a show of looking around. “Are we planning to sacrifice a virgin or something?”
Drew and Amaya both snorted while Harlow grinned. “There’s no virgins here, trust me.”
“Hey, man.” Turner nodded to me from across the clearing. “There’s something you need to know.”
I rolled my shoulders and stepped forward to join their weird little circle. Turner was my friend. I could trust him. “OK. And this something I need to know couldn’t have been put into a text or a phone call?”
“No phones.” Harlow’s tone brooked no arguments.
“Relax.” Donna rolled her eyes. “We ditched the phones, as instructed.”
Baby Mead nodded but gave me an apologetic look. “Sorry. I know it’s weird. But when you’re dealing with corporations, you don’t take chances. People worry about governments spying on us, but most government departments are running Windows XP on hardware that belongs in a museum. Meanwhile, Google knows more about you than your own mother, and we let them. It’s willful ignorance. And it’s because corporations have the money and the latest tech. So . . .”
“Riiight.” I squinted at her. She had the hood of her purple coat up, her blonde hair tangling with the white fur trim. No tin foil hat in sight, and yet . . .
“Hey, before we go any further.” Drew stepped forward and held a hand out. “I’m Drew. I know we haven’t met properly, but I just want you to know that if D trusts you, so do I. Also, I had nothing to do with the posters yesterday. That was all Will.”
I looked at his outstretched hand, then frowned at him, keeping mine firmly in my pockets. After an awkward silence, he cleared his throat and looked away. “Fair enough, I guess.”
I turned to Donna. “What the hell?”
“I just wanted to warn you about . . . you have a right to know why . . . uh . . . right, I should probably explain about Will first . . .” Her eyes darted around uncertainly. I’d never seen Donna unsure about what to say.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Amaya threw her hands up and let them flop back to her sides. “This idiot and his friends”—she pointed to Drew—“managed to get themselves involved in some seedy fight club. Now the dangerous bad men won’t let them leave. Apparently, these same men have tried to lure you into the seedy fight club, but you have more than half a brain and said no.”