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I’m out! I’m finally out of that hellish prison.
Carefully, I inch my way toward the edge of the roof, peering down at the ground below. It’s a drop, but I’ve had worse falls rock climbing before. Taking a deep breath, I lower myself over the edge and drop down, my knees bending to absorb the impact.
I stumble, but I’m free! I did it!
A grin spreads as I straighten up and take in my surroundings. The carnival is quiet and still, the neon lights dimmed for the night. But I don’t have time towaste. I need to figure out where I am and how to get home.
Determined, I start walking, keeping to the shadows if Phoenix is nearby. I will make it out of this nightmare and then find a way to expose Phoenix for the monster he truly is.
My heart is pounding as I make my way through the carnival. I’m on the lookout for anyone who can help me. Once out of the carnival grounds, I approach a group of young men, their faces illuminated by the glow of their cell phones as they huddle together, laughing and enjoying the night.
“Excuse me,” I say, my voice sounding strange to my ears. “Do you know where we are? What town is this?”
They stare at me as if I’ve sprouted a second head, and I realize how much of a mess I must look.
“You’re in Greenvale,” one of them finally answers, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why? You lost or something?”
I’m hit with a wave of relief. Greenvale. It’s a few hours from Oakridge, but I know the area. I can find my way home from here.
“Thanks,” I mutter. “Could I borrow one of your phones?”
The taller of the four men steps toward me. “Why are you lost?” He repeats.
A predatory glint ignites in his eyes, and instantly, I know these guys aren’t going to help me. Instead of replying, I turn around and walk in the opposite direction.
“Where are you going!” He calls out.
I break into a sprint, too spooked by everything that has happened to me to linger. My feet carry me in the direction I know will lead me toward the main road out of here. I need to distance myself from the carnival and Phoenix.
As I walk, my mind is racing. I need to find a phone so I can call the police, my parents, someone. Let them know I’m alive and that Phoenix is dangerous and faked my death. I can’t even begin to imagine the pain and suffering he’s put my loved ones through with his twisted plan.
The weight of what I must do settles on my shoulders, and I walk with a new sense of purpose. I have to get to a phone but keep a low profile or get out of here first then find a phone, whichever comes first. Phoenix will look for me when he realizes I’m gone.
I quicken my pace, a sense of urgency fueling my steps. I need to get help, and I must do it now.
21
PHOENIX
Istorm into the trailer and pause, confused. Where is she? My eyes dart around frantically, scanning every corner for any sign of Tilly. Then, my gaze lands on the half-open bathroom door, and the sour smell of vomit assaults my nostrils.
My heart lurches. She threw up the sedatives. The realization hits me hard, and I swallow the panic that rises in my throat. I should’ve known she’d fight back. Tilly is stronger than she looks, and now she’s gone. My mind races with worry—is she lost, hurt, or worse?
I didn’t think she’d be able to escape, but I prepared for this possibility. I injected a tracker under her skin as insurance. I pull out my phone, open the tracking app, and sure enough, she is only a mile from the carnival. I curse under my breath, imagining all the terrible things that could happen to her out there alone at night.
Without a second thought, I dash out of the trailer and head straight for Nash’s motorcycle. I know he keeps aspare key under the seat, and I’m grateful for him being such a fucking idiot as I fire up the engine. A million thoughts race through my mind as I speed into the night.
I have to find Tilly, and fast. It’s dangerous out here, and she’s alone. My pulse quickens as I imagine all the potential threats lurking in the shadows. But I have to stay calm. She’s close, and I will get to her before anything happens.
I race down the road, my eyes scanning the surroundings for movement. After an eternity, I spot a car pulled over up ahead.
Checking the tracker, it looks like she’s either trying to hitch around or someone is messing with her.
Anger hits me like a lightning bolt as I pull over. There she is, my Tilly, begging some dirtbag in a van for a ride.
“Please,” she pleads. “I’ll do anything. Just get me out of here.”
I clench my jaw, my blood boiling at the thought of what this guy might do to her. Clearing my throat, I leave the shadows and say, “Take a hike, buddy. She’s with me.”
