Page 105 of The Lair

“Allie.”

Travis.

“Allie, talk to me.”

Everything comes back at once. The sounds, the smells, the feeling of Travis’s hands on my shoulders that I shrug off.

My head pounds with embarrassment and regret as I look around and find everyone I’ve grown to love in the past year staring back at me, shock written all over their faces.

I lied to them. I betrayed their trust, smashed it to pieces. For nothing.

I try to breathe, but my lungs won’t fill up. Moisture runs down my cheeks, and sweat clings to the back of my neck.

Travis tries to stop me. Charlie says something, but I can’t…

I can’t.

I give up.

There’s no point in fighting anymore when everything I’ve tried to build for myself has never been real. And it’s all my fault.

“I-I’m sorry.”

An apology is the only thing I can offer them. They deserve so much more than the words of a liar.

Using the last of my strength, I exit The Lair for the last time, knowing I can never come back. Not after what I’ve done.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Age 19

I staredat the Los Angeles skyline from the rearview mirror. When my chest constricted, I took a deep breath through my nose and focused back on the highway, all while trying to convince myself that I was doing the right thing.

Leaving didn’t make me a coward—it made me a survivor.

And that video…

It wasn’t a mistake. It was my only way out.

Los Angeles took everything from me—my safety, my happiness, my chances at a worthwhile future. I could never come back to a place that never felt like home.

As I sped down the highway, I wondered if I’d ever find a place that did. And I promised myself that if I ever did, I’d never ruin it.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Heavy clouds settleover the Fore River, visible from my hotel room window in Portland. The water matches the muted gray-blue shade on the walls almost to perfection. I would know since I’ve spent the last four days looking at it.

Four days since I stormed out of The Lair, turned off my phone, packed my things before Travis drove back to his farmhouse, and left.

For good.

I thought I’d hit rock bottom six years ago when I left Los Angeles. I was young, scared, hurt, and lost beyond all sense of direction. Now I look back and wonder how my nineteen-year-old self had the strength to road-trip across the country in survival mode. More than ever before, I wish I could go back in time and give that Allie a bone-crushing hug.

But I wouldn’t have the courage to tell her all she went through was for nothing.

My gaze travels from the river-blue walls to my backpack, resting on top of a small desk across the room. I haven’t touched my phone in four days. Haven’t even turned it on.

Because I’m a coward. I always have been.

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