Page 101 of Madness & Mayhem

“Don’t cry, baby Lake. This is only the beginning of our story.”

Slowly, her face brightens. It brightens the entire room, and all I can see is her beauty, and the madness that brims beneath.

And I know our future will be filled with magnificence. And absolute mayhem.

Chapter SEVENTEEN

LAKYN

Three months later

“It should be on the news. Go turn it on,” Reign grumbles from the kitchen, loading his plate with tacos.

I frown at him, setting my glass of wine down on the island before walking to the living room. “Did Pete say it was going to be on the five o’clock news?”

Reign drops a pile of salsa on the corner of his plate. “Yep.”

I nod, anxiousness and nerves filling me as I walk to the living room. Grabbing the remote from the end table, I turn on the large flat screen attached to the wall. Flipping to the national news station, I instantly fall back on the couch when I see our old pictures, along with a picture of two people walking down the street.

It’s us, but it’s not us.

“A tip of the long-gone cold case of Lakyn Ashford and Reign Whitmore has been heating up. There have been multiple sightings of the couple in London. They have yet to be apprehended, though local officials are looking for them. It was once thought that they had found refuge in Canada, but they quickly went cold, almost as if they dropped off the face of the earth. This is the first sighting since they were last seen crossing the border. If anyone has any information of their whereabouts, please contact the number for the tip line at the bottom of the screen.” The newscaster continues to drone on as I stare at the pictures of a couple that looks nearly identical to Reign and I. A double, is what Pete, Reign’s right-hand man, set up. They are a decoy, in hopes we can finally begin living our lives here in Canada.

It’s been three months, and we’ve done nothing but stayed holed up in this apartment. We haven’t left, except for a few rare times, but we never go alone. It’s either myself with Pete, or Reign with Pete.

Pete is someone who used to work for the Whitmores. He’s one of the few that stayed on as the Whitmores’ business was passed down to Reign. Though the Whitmores are no more, and neither is the family business—or any of the money.

It’s all been transferred, secretly, into a new business, under a new name.

Ryker Jarvis.

Ryker, aka Reign, has taken over his father’s business and made it flourish. He’s a ten times better businessman than his father ever was. He works a lot, though all of it is from the apartment we’re in.

It’s been stressful, but we’ve made it work.

And I hope today is the day we can finally move on with our lives.

"Arch is calling me,” he grumbles, lifting the phone to his ear. “Yeah. Hold on.” He puts his phone on speaker, setting it on the counter.

“Lakyn!” Archer laughs through the speaker. “You’re free, baby Lake!”

I laugh, walking toward the kitchen in my sweats and Reign’s shirt. “I mean, I wouldn’t say fully, but I guess this is a start.”

"Don’t be such a pessimist. You’re growing grumbly holed up in your castle. Get the fuck out there and enjoy your life in Canada, and we’ll see you tomorrow.”

My eyes bug out. “What?” I scream.

Archer, Kyler, and Posie stayed here for an entire month before they made their way back to the United States. At first I wasn’t able to get ahold of anyone, and we were—I guessIwas—freaking out that they were apprehended or that the police were on their way to get us. Anything. My thoughts were running wild and they were all negative possibilities.

Though they never were. And it took a week for Posie to reach out to me. They were grilled and held at the police station in Hellcrest Heights for forty-eight hours before they were released, and then they were held by the FBI and border patrol were involved, and it was absolute madness.

Archer’s father fixed it, as he always does. They said they didn’t know where we were. That we vanished in the middle of the night staying at some place in the middle of the woods; that they haven’t been able to reach us since. Archer’s father went with that story, paid some people off, and the three of them were off the hook.

The focus came back on us, and we were two fugitives on the loose. I’ve watched from outside our large windows as the police presence grew from sporadic to constant. It’s slowly died down as the weeks went on, and now it feels back to normal.

And I hope it stays that way.

I haven’t been able to speak to Posie or Archer much, as they have kept their distance through this entire time, not wanting to raise any flags anywhere to alert the authorities they are still in contact with us.

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