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I was so stupid.
The car speeds up and I peer out of the window and realize we’re on the highway. I bang on the window at the motorist passing and I can almost hear the laughter as he chats to the passenger beside him.
“Help me!” I scream and yet they speed past as if I’m invisible.
I drop back into my seat and clench my fist in my lap. I’m so screwed.
My life flashes before my eyes as my past, present and future collide in a burning ball of stupidity. I risked everything for revenge and will spend the rest of my life knowing I couldn’t even do that properly.
I attempt to bring my breathing under control and focus on my situation.
I have been caught.
I’m a felon.
I am screwed.
I don’t want to go to prison. I have so much to live for. I was going places, in my head at least. I had it all figured out until that bastard breezed into our lives and stole the one person who ever meant anything to me.
My sob catches on the bile I swallow, and I gag. What was I thinking?
Hatred is a powerful mind fuck, and I was so blinded by my pain I didn’t think this through at all. I nearly murdered a man in broad daylight in front of the fucking paparazzi. I should be imprisoned in a straitjacket rather than a cell because I have obviously lost my mind.
The hatred I feel for Carter Lamont is nothing compared to the fear drowning me now. They’ll drag my mom into it. I’ll have to see that bitch grin as she watches me from the courtroom, pretending to care.
Aways pretending.
Mickey will accompany her and enjoy every minute of my misery because I made such a mess of running away from him. Away from the beatings, the drugs, the acid words, and the torture. Away from my life before he could finish what he started.
Away from my mom, who let him and my sister, who never really stood a chance.
Away from her grave and away from the coffin Carter Lamont may as well have made with his bare hands. The final resting place of a victim.
My sister.
The car slows down and my heart rate increases as I note we have arrived at an exit. Three hundred and five. Where the fuck are they taking me? This is the opposite way to the city. Do the cops have a cell in the wilderness now?
For the first time since I was detained, questions raise their tentative hands. Am I wrong? Who are these guys if they’re not the cops?
I watch as we move quickly off the highway onto less well tended roads. Buildings are replaced by countryside and civilization departs in the rear-view mirror.
My heart quickens as I note the bumps in the road and the lack of human company. We’re heading for Pike’s Creek. I know this place it’s the home for jumpers; people with nothing left to live for. A huge mountain with many exits to the valley below. There’s no cop shop here. No houses even.
This isn’t looking good.
This isn’t good.
I glance around the car and note the black leather seats that smell as if they spent yesterday on the factory floor. There is no dirt and it’s almost clinical. It’s a padded cell of a different kind with a huge black screen shielding me from the driver. Or is it the other way around?
I’m in a moving coffin. I really feel that, and it wouldn’t surprise me if the driver took a sharp left turn off the cliff to the ravine below.
Something is telling me I’m in more trouble than I’ve ever been in, and I mentally prepare myself to fight for flight.
There is so much to process, and it gives me another twenty minutes of self-doubt and fear before the car slows and then everything turns black.
I’m forced forward and the seatbelt cuts into my shoulder. I gasp as the door flies open and a bright light is shining in my face, blinding me to anything outside.
Something is pulled down hard on my head and fastened around my neck. Is it a bag? What the fuck is happening?
