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But if they killed Malcolm…how did Emmett’s DNA get on the car? Was he telling the truth when he insisted someone was trying to frame him? And what does this mean for all of the threats made against me?
“How were you so certain his car would crash that way?” Jada asks.
“I’ve seen it happen before,” he grumbles. “And if I hadn’t been there that time, she would have died. That’s when I got the idea for how we would pull this off without getting caught.”
When Coach Granger saved me from plummeting off the cliff in my car, it inspired him to get rid of Malcolm. So whoever tried to kill me wasn’t connected to his murder at all. But there are still so many unanswered questions, and they swarm around in my head making me feel dizzier than I ever have in my life. Impossibly dizzy. Like my brain could explode from the spins.
My eyes start to hurt from the bright lighting, and once again I find that the only thing that makes me feel better is to close them. But each time my heavy eyelids fall, it gets harder to open them up again. I panic, wondering if I’m dying. My survival instinct starts to overpower my better judgment and I try to scream out to get Coach and Jada’s help. Maybe they’ll hurt me or kill me, thinking I know their secret, but right now I feel like I’m dying regardless. So I might as well take the risk.
But nothing comes out of my mouth. I can’t even tell if my lips are opening at all. Any sense of tingling or fuzziness in my limbs fades as my vision tunnels. The disconnect between my brain and my body grows bigger and bigger until finally I’m left trapped inside of myself, completely motionless. I can’t speak, scream, or move at all. And as their distant voices fade, I realize my hearing is disappearing too. I don’t know when I stopped being able to open my eyes, but I become vaguely aware of pitch-black darkness just before I slip off into nothingness.
27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
My mind wakes up before my eyes can open. I hear the whirring rev of a car engine and the sound of air gushing through open windows. As the wind bursts by, I slowly come to enough to realize how cold it feels against my skin. But the fabric seat beneath me is warm. I push my face against it and am relieved to be able to move again.
That’s when the red flashing warning lights start rapidly firing off in my brain. I’m in a car. But who’s car? Who’s driving? This is bad. Somebody drugged me. I think I can assume that much. Did they follow me into the closet and capture me?
When I try to move the rest of my body, unsure of what I even hope to accomplish, the car hits a bump and sends me rolling into the floorboard. I groan with the harsh thud against my bones as I hit the floor, my body contorting into the tight, uneven space.
“You’re awake,” a guy’s voice rings out from in front of me. I open my eyes and gather it’s the driver speaking. I know that voice. I know the curls of his hair.
Then he turns around to look at me, briefly taking his eyes off of the road. Emmett.
“You okay?” he asks with concern. “I can pull over if you want.”
At first, my heart calms with the sound of his voice. I feel safe. He’ll take care of me. But then the memories of the past few days come flooding back. Everything that Theo told me replays in my mind.
I faintly remember the conversation between Coach Granger and Jada just before I drifted off. I know Emmett didn’t kill Malcolm, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t try to kill me. Theo said he was the brains behind his father’s murder. That he’s only been motivated by money, greed, and power this whole time.
I start to squirm, half expecting to be tied up. But my hands and feet are free. I lift my arms and legs and climb back onto the backseat, still feeling heavy and unable to fully control my body.
“Pull over,” I command him. “I want to get out.”
“Ophelia, I need to talk to you,” he shoots back urgently.
“Pull over!” I scream louder. I grow frantic and panicked as I piece it all together, assuming Emmett had to have been the one who drugged me. After Coach dragged him out of the dance, he found some way to sneak back in and slip something in my drink. Or maybe he had help. I don’t know, but I’m positive it was him. “You did this to me,” I mumble through my groggy voice.
“No!” he insists. “I would never do anything to hurt you, Ophelia.”
“You and I both know that’s not true,” I argue back, refusing to minimize what he’s done to me any longer. That’s what got me into this mess with him in the first place. Always telling myself that it wasn’t so bad or trying to convince myself that there were two versions of him.
“It was you all along,” I tell him. “You’re the one who has been hurting me all along, and…and I don’t know why it took me so long to see it.”
“No, please don’t say that,” he begs. “Listen to me…”
“No!” I cry out. “I’m not listening to you anymore!” I reach for the handle, not caring if I fly out of the speeding car. But nothing happens when I pull it. “Pull over! Let me out of here!”
“Ophelia, please…” he tries again.
“I don’t care if you love me!” I shriek. “If you ever loved me at all, it hasn’t stopped you from hurting me! It was your idea to kidnap me! To hold me hostage in your mansion! And then it was your idea to murder Thomas! You turned me against my own father, who was only trying to help and…”
“You’ve got it all wrong!” he swears. “I don’t know who did this to you, but it wasn’t me. Where was Bridgett when this happened?”
“Stop it, Emmett! I’m not falling for your shit anymore! Let me out of here right now or I’m going to grab the wheel and force us off the road! I’ve done it before,” I remind him. “I’ll do it again. I don’t even care what happens, I just want to get away from you!”
I imagine my dreams of college and everything after it slipping away into nothingness, just as I did when I lost consciousness. It hurts to think about. I don’t want to die, but I’m not certain that won’t happen anyway if I leave it up to Emmett.
