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I nod. “Let’s hope it does,” I say.
She swallows. “When are we doing it?”
“Tonight,” I say. “We need to get this over with as soon as possible. You know possession is insidious. The longer you’re possessed for, the harder it’ll be to get rid of it.”
She considers that for a second. “Okay,” she says. “And when do we give up? If it doesn’t work?”
“Three days,” Luke says. “Give us three days, Trine. Okay? If by that point we haven’t managed to do anything, we can…change tacks.”
He doesn’t say “we can discuss you killing yourself” because he can’t say that, but that’s definitely what he means. We all know that.
“We need to ask Alana if it’s okay to do this here,” I say. “The mansion is isolated and that might be best for this.”
“Things could get dicey,” Luke echoes.
“Ask her to stay,” Malon says. “While the exorcism is happening. She can see how important it is.”
“It’s not a bad idea,” I tell her. “Do you want us to talk to her, or do you want to do it?”
Trine swallows. “I’ll do it,” she says. “What else do you need from me?”
“Nothing,” Luke says, shaking his head. “We just need a room and privacy.”
He’s wrong, but I think he’s itching to get started. I can’t blame him for that. “We need towels, rope and vaseline,” I say. “We need to tie you to the bed.”
Her cheeks redden, her eyes widening. “Right,” she says. “I forgot about that.”
“And you need to ask her if she has any clothes she can give you,” Rei says. “It can get a little…gross. You don’t want to have to return those.”
She swallows again, her gaze flitting between all of our faces.
“And tell your friends,” Rei continues. “They might not believe in it, but I want you to have a support network when you come out of it.”
“If I come out of it,” Trine says.
“When,” Luke says. “You got this.”
She shakes her head. She looks fucking terrified. Rei clasps his hand over her shoulder. “It’s okay,” he says. “We’re here. You’re going to be okay.”
And there’s absolutely no way for him to know that for sure, but I really hope that Trine believes him.
I’m definitely trying to.
TRINE
I’ve told everyone everything and the day has passed by incredibly slowly.
Alana doesn’t necessarily believe in this shit, but she still sets us up in one of the most secluded rooms in the house. It has a small window that doesn’t really open with a screen on the outside that looks like it’s never been cleaned. Any semblance of a view is obscured by the treeline, which seems to come up to the very edge of the glass.
The only light in the room is from a lamp on the nightstand, even though it’s not late enough for it to be dark outside. The guys are already there with supplies and Alana sits on an exercise ball in the corner of the room, watching us curiously.
They can’t exactly kick her out. It’s her house, after all.
I feel a bit like an idiot when I finally walk in the room. I’m wearing grippy socks and what Alana uses when she paints, a large white t-shirt with a faded print of Kurt Cobain on the front. It has holes and is stained and she told me she didn’t mind if it was ruined, but it still feels weird to wear it. I open the door slowly and whatever conversation was happening before stops as they all look at me.
Misha meets my gaze, the tensing of his jaw betraying his fear. But he makes himself smile at me, cocking his head when he does. “We’re ready,” he says. “Are you?”
I nod, my mouth dry. Fuck, I’m so afraid. My heart is hammering hard in my chest, I’m so scared I’m actually feeling a little bit faint. But miraculously, I manage to stay on my feet as Misha wraps his arm around my waist to keep me upright. He leans down and speaks softly into my ear. “Tie your hair up,” he says. “I don’t want it to get tangled or anything.”
