Page 70 of Wicked Deceit
“They’re on their way. So are the cops. We’ve got big fucking problems right now, Ains. We need to keep you safe, him safe, and find Kaycee.” Seger paces in front of us, biting his nails.
“We’ve got a plan,” Zepp reiterates, staring at the rising flames of the house.
Sirens blast in the distance, getting closer to our destination until blue and red lights cut through the pitch-black night.
Zepp and Seger peer down at their phones again and look at each other. They give a nod, turning back to Ains and me.
“We’re going to get Kaycee back. When the ambulance gets here, you have to go with them. Get help,” Zepp demands, and I nod.
With that, the twins rush from the maze into the darkness, disappearing out of view. Lead sits heavily in the pit of my stomach when I stare up at Ainsley. Tears leak down her face, and her sobs fill the air. Ainsley yelps when an explosion of people in uniforms converges on the maze. EMTs and firefighters rush to the scene, and head through the maze to the house. An EMT stops and looks me over.
“We’ll get you to the hospital now, okay? We need to get these burns looked at,” she whispers, looking over my injuries.
“Isyourphonevibrating?Or are you just overly excited right now?” I ask Chase through a giggle, feeling the buzz vibrating against my thigh.
"Worst buzz kill," Chase mutters, fishing out his phone and pulling it out of his pocket.
Crinkles form across his forehead when he reads the number flashing across the screen. His eyes dart to mine when he answers the call on the third ring with hesitation, giving a soft, cautious hello. His cute eyebrows dance up and down with excitement, and his shoulders slump in relief.
Every inch of him has been in a constant state of stress for the past few days and only intensified when he knew his dad would call. I know he’s been excited yet nervous to talk to his dad. And by the radiant look of admiration sparkling in his eyes and the easy smile crossing his face, I can tell it’s the phone call he's been anxiously awaiting all day. Every few minutes, he’d look at the clock with a dopey look on his face, counting down the hours until he got to hear from his father. It’s not often he gets to these days, so he takes what he can get.
My eyes track Chase as he crosses the room, pacing back and forth in true Chase fashion. When Chase suggested we watch a film, I was thankful for the distraction. Since the charity event a few weeks ago and everything surrounding it, I've needed something to take my mind off our situation. Something completely mind-numbing and unimportant did the trick; I never once thought about the event, snuggled into Chase’s arms. His embrace took away every bit of stress that had been pent up.
Chase nods, barely getting a word into the conversation. My phone vibrates on the table as he paces around the living room. My heart skips a beat inside my chest, fluttering with the hope that it’s one of the boys reaching out. The twins have been MIA almost all night. Their nurse texted them close to dinner time, explaining that their father had escaped again, and she needed their help finding him. I haven't heard a peep from either one of them since they took off. But they’re probably so busy searching the woods for their father, like last time, I haven’t bugged them. It hasn’t stopped me from eyeing my phone since they left, aching to hear from them.
Carter said he needed to check something on his computer again. Something about a website that he didn’t explain very well. I’m still in the dark about what he found on his dad’s computer from that time we broke in and placed the disc there. He’s kept a tight lip about it. And I’m not sure if it was for my benefit or if he found something horrible. Whatever it is, he’s bit his tongue on the subject, and it’s done nothing but piss me off. It’s like the black bag full of sex toys all over again. I want to know what he’s hiding. So, naturally, me being me, I tried to hack it myself. But of course, I couldn’t find a damn thing on his computer through mine. It was sealed too tight, and I didn’t have enough power to break through—what a shame. I can easily hack into AntiEyes and break into the Pentagon like it’s nothing. But Carter’s computer? It’s locked up tighter than Fort Knox, the only place I couldn’t break into.
A deep ache forms in my gut from the separation, which sounds completely insane because it’s only been a few hours, but I feel it manifesting inside me. Physical symptoms have already started to take hold through body aches and anxiety. My body longs to hold them again or hear their voices again, and it makes me feel pitiful. How can I survive this world if I can’t function without them for more than five seconds? Seriously. I survived Thanksgiving break and Christmas break without physically being near them, but here I am, whimpering on the couch like a baby because the other three took off. I’ll have to reconnect with my therapist about these new developments and discuss why I’m being so weird.
I sigh, almost in heartbreak, when it isn’t a text from one of them. I cock my head in confusion at the single notification sitting on my home screen, taunting me to open it. I shouldn’t. It’s too impossible to be real. There’s no way in Hell it could be. Whoever sent it must know my curiosity always wins. One day, it’ll be the cause of my death, too.
My fingers shake when I swipe it open, and my heart thrashes inside of me. Dizziness takes over, and the world sways around me. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and force myself to look at the message sent to me. It’s inconspicuous and innocent. But mostly, it’s completely impossible. The color drains from my face, and my fingers tremble as they hover above the screen. Every part of me freezes, and a bucket of cold water splashes over my head, rereading the words taunting me.
Chase stops at the corner of the room, making his way back toward me. Worry sits on every inch of his face at the sight of my frozen state. He holds my gaze and looks me over.
“You okay?” He asks in a soft voice, gesturing with his hand.
“Yeah,” I croak, barely getting the words out. Am I convincing? Probably not. I’m a walking, talking ghost sitting in front of him. His eyebrows scrunch, narrowing his eyes in disbelief of my statement. “I’m fine,” I tack on with the wave of my hand, sounding more confident than before.
I will be okay because I will survive. No matter what these assholes have thrown at me, I’ve survived to tell the tale. And I’ll continue to do so, no matter what. Goo down my shirt—I survived. A car crash and broken arm—I survived. Laxative sprinkles on my pancakes—I survived. Okay, well, that one I barely made it through. I think my soul left through my ass that day I ate those delicious pancakes, but you know what? I survived, damn it. And they can’t take that away from me.
Devastation clouds my mind all over again. Memories of the first night my mom sat me down and told me Magnolia was gone rushed back in a whirlwind of grief and anguish twisting my gut. Everything I've endured over the past year feels raw and at the surface. Tears burn the back of my eyes, but I swallow them down. This grief has to hang on for another few months so I can finally find more answers. Until then, I have to shove everything down into the box in my mind and forget it all. Mission first, grief last.
Ripping my eyes away from my phone, I slap it back down, leaving it on the table. To ease the worry wrinkling Chase’s forehead, I kiss his cheek, lingering for a second, basking in his warmth. Whispering, I tell him I’ll be in my room and head in its direction. When I look over my shoulder at his lingering stare, I see conflict brewing deep in his eyes. He wants to follow and make sure I’m alright, but I can’t let him.
I sit down at my computer and type a few things, gaining access to the innocent-looking message I received. Eyes burn into the side of my head, and I can feel his stress and worry from here. Looking up from the screen, I give him a reassuring wave. His face contorts, grimacing with indecision. I wave him on again, trying to get him to leave my sight so I can get into it. Chase finally waves, pointing toward the twins’ room. Albeit reluctantly, he walks out of view with one last dejected sigh.
A burning lump sits in my throat when I bring up my email. There sitting in my inbox is something I never thought I’d see again. Every week I waited on pins and needles to hear what Magnolia had to say. The good, the bad, and the incredibly ugly rested in her words. Back then, I tried to be as supportive as I could be, but I was far away. She was here, and there wasn’t anything I could do about it. I tried getting into the cameras, but it wasn’t possible from home. She repeatedly told me to stay out of it, that she had it handled. So many nights, I sat up wishing I hadn't listened to her and had gone ahead with protecting her. But she refused to let me, even threatening me if I showed up.
Regrets rush through me and pin me in place with the overwhelming what-ifs of life. What if I was here the whole time she was? I could have helped her more and done more to protect her. She’d still be alive and happy with Ainsley. But I wasn’t here. I was at home, going to our old school, living my own life in a bubble. Magnolia was here, suffering at the hands of the Apocalypse and their minions, and it eventually got her killed. I could have—I would have—I wanted to do more. I suppose that’s why I’m here now. Sure, I met the loves of my life. But I came here to find answers, and that’s what I’ve found.
So now, staring at her words on my screen once again raises the hairs on the back of my neck.
My mouth dries out, and my heart skips a beat when I open the email that will likely change my life.
Subject: Kaycee! I miss you so much. I wish you were here. See you soon!
