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He told me he loved me, and if it took him forever to make me forget, he would. He told me if it took him forever to make me forgive him, he would. He told me if he had to die trying, he would do that, too.
He wouldn’t get out of the car. He looked like hell. He cried, and then he stopped.
“I was fifteen; she was eighteen. I am so sorry. Forgive me and tell my father I love him. Tell him I’m sorry.”
He let go of my hand. I didn’t let go of his.
I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know, but like he said, he was fifteen, and she was eighteen. I sure as hell am going to try, and I am going to make the bitch pay.
I fight my own need to vomit. Ryan Bennett, who the hell was the girl riding you that night?
Going on instinct alone, I drive to the Bennetts’ home and wait. I have nothing else to go on. I have to find her. I know something isn’t right. I feel it, and I’m not going anywhere until I have some fucking answers.
Answers for Lo, for Hi, for me, and for us. Everything is for us.
Chapter Twenty - Seven
I wake up, fighting to open my eyes. My body hurts, and I can’t move.
I hear someone whistling.
I clear my throat. “Help,” comes out weakly, and then I feel a cloth cover my mouth before my eyes are covered, too.
Jason will worry that I’m not there for the fight. He will think I ran. He will think I don’t love him.
“Jason.” My cry is muffled.
“Jason?” I hear a voice chide. “Jason or Ryan? Ryan or Jason? Oh, the choices you had. The fun, the games, the heroes, the villains.”
“Please,” I cry.
“Begging must be genetic.” The voice is female. Rochelle. Oh, God. “Your mother begged for her life. Your sister didn’t, shame on her. Your father, he cried like a little bitch as he watched me kill them.”
“Why are you doing this?” I scream, unsure if she can hear me.
“I’m doing this because you deserve it.” I feel a sharp blow to my head, and consciousness leaves me.
I wake sitting up, tied to a chair, and my head is pounding. I am facing a fireplace in a cabin.
I look up on the mantel and see pictures of Ryan and his family. I’m at the river cabin.
Why would Rochelle bring me here?
It’s hot, so hot in here. My throat is dry, and I need a drink.
“Thirsty,” I croak out, but no one answers. “Thirsty! I’m thirsty! Rochelle!” I yell. “I know it’s you. The Bennetts have security! They’ll know. They’ll find me!”
I am going to fight. I want to fight. I am no longer afraid. I am going to fight for them, for vengeance. I finally have something to live for.
Jason.
“Stop hiding from me! Stop being a coward and face me!”
“Stupid, stupid, little whore.” I hear her behind me. “Your paranoia makes this so much more fun.”
I turn my head and hear a burst of laughter from the other side of me.
“I should be afraid of you, but I’m not. If you’re going to kill me, do it! Kill me, you sick bitch!”
I hear the floorboard creak and look back, fighting the fear. I cannot be afraid.
“He loved her. Ryan loved her. He pretended you were her, made you wear a wig and all. How did it feel? How did it feel to fuck your sister’s boyfriend? He never loved you,” she taunts.
I cringe at someone knowing my dirty little secret, sex with Ryan as Heidi.
“Face me!”
“The ugly duckling. The sweet little girl whose family was slaughtered,” she sneers. “A whore! Nothing but a little whore!”
The back of the chair gets pulled, and tied to it, I crash to the ground. Pain sears through my body. I hold my mouth closed so I don’t cry out.
I open my eyes and gasp. “Why! Why! Why!”
From the corner of my eyes, I see her boot coming closer and then feel it connect with the side of my head.
I wake up in pain. I’m cold, tied to a bed, and I am naked.
“Wakey, wakey.” I see her standing beside the bed, holding a knife. “Oh, there she is. Do you have a headache, Lorraine?”
“Fuck you,” I spit out, and the back of her hand immediately connects with the side of my face.
“Is that any way to talk to the woman hosting you tonight?”
“Why! Why are you doing this?”
“Oh, poor little Lorraine. Such the sweet and innocent little thing until you fucked Ryan!” She hits me again.
“I have no idea what you—”
Another blow and the metallic taste of blood fills my mouth.
“I saw you, whore. I saw you and him!”
“He’s your brother!” I scream at her.
“No!” She grabs her own hair. “No, he’s not! If we’d found each other before they did, he would have loved me! He would have loved me and not her!”
