I Suck at Walking

 

Chapter Twenty One

 

Chase gets into his car and starts it, pulling out of his parking spot in front of the Bed & Breakfast. I turn to look out my window at the dark night.

Chase turns on the heat in the car while I turn on the stereo. We’ve got a system worked out.

“How’d you know where to find me?” I ask Chase once we’re settled in his car.

“You can only get so far on foot in this town.” Chase says, looking over at me.

I gasp. “Chase!”

“What? What’s wrong?” He asks, looking at my startled face.

“Eyes…on…road!” I gasp out. Chase chuckles and looks at the road. We’re pulling into the Davenport mansion—house!—now.

Wow. I guess I really didn’t walk that far, after all. The B&B was like, ten feet away from Chase’s house. I suck at walking. Really.

I yawn really big and feel my eyelids droop. I look at the clock in Chase’s car as he pulls up the driveway and shuts off his car. 2:41a.m. Holy.

“You need sleep.” Chase says, facing me with the car off, smiling slightly. I force my eyes open and look back at Chase.

“I don’t want to sleep.” I tell him, climbing out of the car. He locks his car and we walk towards his house.

“What do you want to do?” Chase asks me. I look at him, biting my bottom lip.

“Let’s go sit by the lake.” I suggest, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the lake. He grins, letting me lead him to a spot in between two large rocks where we then sit. I rest my head on Chase’s shoulder and he puts his arms around me as I look at the sparkling lake. The moon makes complicated patterns on the lake, and I smile, breathing in the air.

Chase brushes back hair from my face. “When I was younger I’d sit out here for hours.” He tells me, and I pick up his hand, tracing patterns on his palms.

“By yourself?” I ask him, looking up at his face. He kisses the tip of my nose, sending electricity to the tips of my toes.

“Yeah, by myself. It’s peaceful out here.” He says, smiling at the large, dark blue lake.

“I, mmmm…” I mumble unintelligibly, my eyelids drooping shut. My head rests on Chase’s shoulder and he chuckles softly, picking me up in his arms.

“I knew you needed sleep.” He says quietly, walking me, in his arms, back to the house. He opens the front door quietly and takes me to my room. My room with the sea-foam green silk sheets that I love. He pulls back my covers, placing me in my bed, and pulls the blankets over me, tucking me in snuggly. Like my dad used to. I feel a twinge of sadness and I open my eyes.

“Chase?” I ask softly. He kneels down, our eyes level.

“Yes?”

“Are you going to sleep in here tonight?” I say, glancing over at his bed on the other side of the room.

“Of course.” He murmurs, smiling at me. I sigh happily, yawning again. “Goodnight, Skye.” He says, getting up from his kneeling position.

I try to sleep, but can’t. In the next minute, I get up and walk over to Chase. I get up on my tip-toes and kiss him softly.

“’Night, Chase.” I say, with a smile. He smiles back.

“Sleep well.” He says.

And I almost do.

 

Except having a night where I actually sleep without waking up every hour would be a miracle. And call me a pessimist, but I don’t exactly believe in miracles these days.

I wipe sleep from my eyes and get up from my bed. I glance over at Chase, who is sleeping without a care in the world (how I envy that), and pull on a pair of jeans and a tank top. I stuff my feet into my sneakers and then open the door quietly, closing it behind me. I wander through the huge house, stepping on creaky floorboards ever so often before I reach the front door and prance down the front steps.

It’s dark out, raining slightly, but I need to get my energy out somehow, so I decide to go for a walk. I wander down the long driveway and down the empty road leading away from Chase’s house. There are woods on either side of the road, which momentarily frightens me (who knows what is lurking in there?) but I decide to keep walking. The slight rain makes me wish I brought a sweater.

I walk for what seems like hours, but is probably only minutes, when I’m conscious of a car coming down the road I’m on. I walk over to the side of the road, confused. Nobody drives down this road—it’s practically abandoned. I keep walking, speeding up my pace, aware of the muscles tensing in my neck. Something isn’t right.

The car is driving slowly—very slowly. Pushing 20…crawling, really. I weigh my options. It’s either a granny driving, crouched over the steering wheel, or…or…

I quicken my pace even more. Grannies don’t drive SUV’s. At least, not the ones I know. The vehicle then speeds up and I think it’s going to past me, in a fleeting moment of hopefulness. Then it turns sharply, blocking the road. I consider walking around it, but see that’s probably not the safest option as it could reverse at any second. I stop walking and the tinted backseat window rolls down. I feel my jaw drop in surprise.

“Oliver?” I ask, warily. What is he doing here? Oliver, College-boy, Bed & Breakfast Guy. Take your pick.

He does not look happy. “Get in the car.” He says stonily. I snort.

“What, no candy?”

He blinks. “Get in the car, Skye.” I feel my jaw drop down again.

“I never told you my name.” I say, taking a step away from the vehicle. Maybe I can slowly run into the forest, I doubt that big SUV can follow me in there.

“It would be wise not to run.” Oliver says, lifting an eyebrow. I scratch the back of my neck.

“I’ve never really been considered wise, though.” I say, thinking about it. Oliver’s eyes flash.

“Please just get in the car.” He says, and something sticks out of the window. I’ve seen enough thrillers to know that it’s a gun. I gulp.

“All you had to do was ask.” I lie, and the door opens. He moves to the seat beside me and I climb in. Almost before I can close the door, the car is speeding off, down the once-abandoned road.

I look around the interior of the car. There are two big guys, dressed in black, sitting silently in the front seat. Ditto with the back seat. I look at Oliver.

“Is this about the whole Bed & Breakfast thing? Cause I can totally explain that. You see, when I don’t get enough sleep I become rather—“

“Shut up.” Oliver says, almost angrily. A glance down tells me he still has the gun, sitting on his lap rather carelessly. I gulp again.

“I’m sorry about before.” I say suddenly. “This is all just a big misunderstanding.”

Oliver turns to me and raises his eyebrows. “This isn’t a misunderstanding. You can trust me on that.”

“Just let me go, and we’ll never speak of this again.” I say, hoping helplessly that he’ll agree. Just as I thought, he doesn’t.

He chuckles, twirling the gun. I nervously back away as much as I can in my seat.

“I’m going to enjoy watching you die.” He says and I feel my stomach drop.

“What, no! You can’t just kill me! Please. Please don’t.”

“The quicker you tell me where your boyfriend and his family are, the less painful your death will be.” Oliver continues, as if he hadn’t heard me speak. I close my eyes, breathing in slowly through my nose.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I say calmly, opening my eyes. Oliver smiles.

“You see, I knew you’d say that.” He replies, holding his hand out to the guys in the backseat. One of them, the bigger one, pulls something silver out of a box and hands it to Oliver. A knife.

I level my gaze on Oliver, looking calmer then I feel. “You don’t want to do this.” I tell him.

He grins. “Actually, Skye, I really do.”

Leaning forward, he presses the side of the knife against my cheek. I flinch, which causes the blade to cut into my skin. I bite my tongue to keep from screaming as I feel warm blood trickle down my face. I close my eyes, thinking of Chase’s warm smile, his blue eyes. I think of Margaret, who’s become a mother figure to me. And Brody, with his frequent grins and way of making anyone feel better. And then Logan and his insightful views, his valuable friendship. I’d keep them safe no matter how much pain Oliver inflicted on me. I’d keep them safe no matter what.

“Where are they?” Oliver asks me harshly, the blade still digging into my cheek. I keep my eyes closed and keep biting down on my tongue.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.” I say quietly.

Oliver pulls the knife away from my face and I feel blood trickle faster down my cheek, dripping off my face onto my leg.

He suddenly digs the knife slowly into the front of my shoulder. I let out a scream, before I can stop myself.

“Where, Skye?” He asks, digging it deeper into my shoulder. I feel tears trickle down my face, mixing with the blood.

I open my eyes, staring hatefully into Oliver’s brown, violent gaze.

“Is that all you’ve got?” I ask him, glancing down at the knife. He sneers and digs the blade in deeper. I fight the urge to scream again, but tears continue falling from my eyes.

He then pulls the knife out of my shoulder, smiling while doing so. I ignore the pain, blocking it out. This is for the Davenports. I’m doing this for them, I think to myself.

Oliver grabs my hand, and I pull it back. He snatches it again and I clench my teeth as he takes a finger and pulls it back, slowly, slowly. I look out the window when I hear a crack and I know that my finger is broken. I moan in pain and then get angry. I pull my hand away from Oliver and swing my legs up, kicking the knife out of his hand. I then kick my feet into his stomach, causing him to double over. I block out the pain of my cuts, of my broken finger.

I continue kicking Oliver until I hear the identifiable clicks of guns with the safety no longer on. The two guys in the backseat and the one in the passenger’s seat are all holding black guns at me, pointing at some spot on my head.

I draw my feet away from Oliver and hold up my hands in an “I-surrender” pose. The guns remain pointed at me. Oliver recovers himself and waves the guns away.

“Down, boys.” He says, and the guns slowly lower. Oliver then glances at me.

“You’re going to be sorry.” He says slowly. I glare at him and then roll my eyes.

“If I had a nickel for every time I’ve heard that.” I say and then turn my back to him, staring ruefully out the window into the black night.

Out of the blue I feel a sharp pain in the back of my neck, and realize that it was a needle. Before I can say or do anything, my eyes droop closed and I’m unconscious. 

Reviews

[Anya]

oh nooooo.... oh no no no.... oh noooooooo. I can feel tears coming to my eyes. Amazingly written!!!!!!!!!!