“I can’t keep secrets from your mother.” He shook his head, but I could see the lack of confidence in his stance. He was lying. But I didn’t have time to worry about his problems.

I lowered my voice, begging for someone to see reason. “I would never hurt Katie. I would never do the things they are saying I tried to do to her. I was protecting her from Bryce.”

“I know that. I know.” He nodded, but I knew he was placating me, hoping to defuse the situation. He wasn’t hearing anything I was saying, and it was infuriating.

“Then why are you looking at me like they do? Why won’t you tell me where she is so I can see that she’s okay?”

“Come to my office, and I can explain.” His voice was too calm, and I wanted to scream at him, to make him understand how serious this was.

“Explain it now.” My jaw was clenched in anger, and I knew I was getting louder. It wouldn’t be long until a teacher became curious and stuck his head out in the hall.

He sighed, his shoulders dropping fractionally as he rubbed his fingers over his forehead, as if to force the right answer to appear. “Her mother signed her out of school this morning. She’s moving to her father’s in North Carolina. She’s safe. You don’t need to worry about her.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? How could you not tell me? You can’t let them do this. I need to see her.”

“I don’t have a choice, and honestly, I think it might be for the best. You’re too wrapped up in her. At your age you should be going on dates with different girls and hanging out with friends. Had I known about the two of you sooner, I would have intervened. You got arrested, Ryder. You brought the cops to your mother’s door. That can’t happen again.”

“No. You don’t understand. She’s not just some girl. Katie was there for me when I had no one.”

“You have your mother. You have me. After your father died…” His voice died as I lurched toward him.

“No!” I was in his face, my breathing coming so rapidly, my chest was pressed against his. “You don’t get to talk about my dad. You don’t get to say shit. You barely waited until his body was cold before you were all over my mom.”

“That’s not fair, Ryder. You’re projecting your anger onto me.”

“If I was, you’d f**king know it. I have to see her before she goes.” I turned to walk away, no plan in mind. I just needed to tell Katie that I’d wait for her or I’d run with her.

Mr. Thomas grabbed my arm, and I spun around, causing him to flinch as if I’d hit him. “Think things through, Ryder. You’re only going to cause her more trouble, cause all of us more trouble. This is what is best for Katie.”

“I’m what’s best for Katie. I was only trying to protect her, and you left me with no way to talk to her, to make sure she was safe. She wouldn’t leave without saying good-bye.” I ran my fingers through my hair, gripping it and pulling, adrenaline causing me to shake with anger. I couldn’t get my thoughts in order. Katie had always been the voice of reason, the only thing that could stop my mind from racing.

Mr. Thomas put his hand on my shoulder, pity in his expression. “First love is the hardest to get over. If you just give it some time—”

I knocked his hand away, and he took a step back. “I’m not going to get over Katie.”

I stormed off down the hall and out the front door of the school, pacing the sidewalk as I waited for the cops to arrive, but they never did.

Survivor

Chapter 11—Ella

Survivor: to continue to function or prosper

The room was small but clean, and the hotel had been recently built, so it didn’t feel seedy and dirty. The walls were white and the bed and accent furniture a deep blue that reminded me of Rellik’s eyes. There was a bed in the center with a dresser directly in front of it that held a flat-screen television. I turned it on to have some background noise so it didn’t feel so empty. I hated being alone ever since I was little.

On the far side was a small desk and chair that shared a wall with the bathroom. On top of the desk was a black duffel bag. I stepped inside the bathroom and flipped on the light. The walls and floor were covered in tiny one-inch tiles, all different shades of blue. The shower had a thick glass door that made the room appear larger. A sink that looked like a glass bowl on a beautiful, reclaimed wood table sat to the right next to the toilet. It was modern and streamlined, and I was dying to take a hot shower and wash away the stress of the day. I looked up at the mirror and took in my dark circles under my eyes. My hair desperately needed a trim, and a few hours in the sun would do my skin some good.

I turned on the shower, giving it time to get warm as I took off my clothes and tossed them in a pile by the sink. I grabbed the soap bar from the shelf and ripped open the plastic wrapping. Rubbing it between my wet hands, I glanced down at the fading scars on my torso and thighs. I tried not to think about how they had gotten there. I wore them as a badge of honor because each mark was another tally in the list of things I’d survived.

* *

“Stop pretending you don’t like me.” He took a long drink from a beer bottle and sat it on the bathroom sink. I covered myself, trying to hide behind the spray of the shower to obscure his view.

“Get out of here.”

“Make me.”

“You don’t scare me!” I knew my lip was quivering, and I took a step back as he grabbed a razor from the sink, a sadistic smirk on his face.

“You look scared, Mikaella.” He stepped toward me as I slipped, falling in the tub. Laughing, he bent down over me and ran the blade against my upper thigh, leaving behind a one-inch gash. I screamed as the pain seared through me, but there was no one else home, no one to come save me.

“I love it when you scream.” He grabbed himself over his jeans as I pushed myself to my feet, refusing to let him have his way.

“I’ll tell them! I don’t care if they send me back!”

“Tell them what? That you cut yourself shaving? Maybe they’ll send you to a psych ward. Does that sound fun?” He grabbed my wrist with so much force, it felt like the bones would crumble beneath my bruised flesh.

“When my father finds me, he is going to kill you,” I seethed.

“Oh, that’s cute. You think your real parents are going to come for you? Why don’t we have a little more fun until they arrive?”

* *

Stepping under the spray, I closed my eyes and cleaned myself as quickly as possible, a habit I had developed over the last few years. The flesh over my right hip was tender from the alley fight, and I exhaled through clenched teeth as I rubbed over it again and again until the pain no longer caused me to wince. They couldn’t hurt me anymore. No one could hurt me.

I quickly lathered up my hair with the complementary mini shampoo bottle and rinsed away the smell of sweat and stale beer. I splayed my fingers out in front of me and watched my hand tremor. It had been years since I had slept without the aid of medicine, and tonight was going to be brutal.

I grabbed the small, rough, white towel that hung just outside the shower door and tried to wrap my body, but even with my small frame, I was unable to get it around me. I padded out into the bedroom, leaving wet footprints behind me, and glanced around the room. I couldn’t put my dirty clothes back on until I washed them, and they would be uncomfortable to sleep in.

I glanced over at the door as I slowly unzipped the duffel bag. It was full of men’s clothing, a journal, and a few odds and ends. I grabbed a gray Doors T-shirt and a pair of gray boxers that would pass as shorts while I looked for the Laundromat in the hotel. I pulled the clothes on quickly, and a small folded piece of notebook paper caught my eye. I pulled it out of the bag and unfolded it. It had a phone number with no name. I stuck it back inside the bag and grabbed a blue bottle of cologne, Polo Sport. Pulling off the silver lid, I sniffed it before spritzing some of it on the T-shirt and dropping it back inside. Under the clothing was an old notebook. I glanced to the door as I pulled it out and flipped it open to a random page. Random lyrics were scribbled across the pages in different-colored ink. Some looked much newer than others.

Dark and dirty, your secrets untold

You should have been mine to have and to hold

Blood on my hands, emptiness in my heart

Time came too soon for death do us part

I shoved the notebook back under the clothing as I thought over the lyrics. Zipping the bag closed, I pulled the collar of the shirt to my nose and breathed in the scent again. It was masculine and clean, and I could have bathed in that scent. I rounded the bed and wrung my hands together as I looked at the hotel phone.

I gripped the receiver and took a deep breath as I lifted it from its base and dialed the only phone number I still had committed to memory. After three rings a deep voice answered.

“Hello?” With that one word, my heart sank, and my stomach twisted in pain. He spoke again, but it was the female’s voice in the background that caught my attention. I wrapped the cord around my finger but didn’t respond. “Mikaella,” he whispered into the receiver.

I swallowed hard at hearing my full name for the first time in as long as I could remember.

“Is that you? Tell me where you are.”

I hung up the phone as tears fell free from my lashes.

I hurried to the bathroom and grabbed my dirty clothes and a key card from the small envelope on the stand. I scribbled out a note for Rellik and left it on the desk, even though it would probably be hours until he came back.

I slipped my feet into my sneakers, stepping on the backs as I shuffled down the front of the building to a lit alcove between the rooms. An ice machine and several snack machines sat to my right, with a laundry room and small indoor pool to my left.

One older woman in a sweat suit was doing laundry. She smiled as I walked by her and slipped my clothes into the machine.

“Shit,” I groaned as I noticed the coin slot.

“You need some help?”

“I forgot my purse. My boyfriend ran to the store, and I left it in the car.” It was better than the awkward truth that I was staying in a stranger’s room.

“Here.” She dug through her bag and pulled out several quarters.

“Thank you so much.” I stuck them in the slot and glanced over at her machine as I chewed my lip.

“I guess you need soap too?”

I nodded, feeling like a complete jerk, but she just smiled and held out her small sample-size bottle to share.

“Thank you so much. That’s incredibly kind of you.”

I used what I needed and started the small load as we fell silent, Rellik’s singing playing over and over in my head. You could tell he felt every single lyric, and I wondered what could have happened to him.

By the time my laundry was washed and dried, I was exhausted and ready to curl up in bed.

Self-Preservation

Chapter 12—Rellik

Self-Preservation: an instinctive tendency to act so as to preserve one’s own existence

I had grown tired of Phantom’s glares as some emaciated redhead with fake tits ground her bony ass against me to the beat of “Sail” playing in the background. The guys didn’t know I had Ella back in my room, and I was happy to keep it a secret, but I couldn’t wait to get the hell out of there and make sure she was okay. I drained what was left in my glass of Jameson and tried to pretend I was interested in the woman in front of me. I closed my eyes, and the room began to spin.

“I have to call it a night.” I smacked the girl’s ass, and she jumped from my lap.

“What’s the rush?”

I groaned as I stood, rolling my neck from side to side before responding to Phantom. “It’s three in the f**king morning, and I have to visit family tomorrow.”

He nodded and took a drink from his bottle of Budweiser. “I’ll catch a ride.”

“I’ll ride you, baby.” The redhead sauntered seductively across the room to Phantom.

I stumble-stepped out of the door and down the long winding hallways until I found the exit into the humid morning air. The oppressive wall of humidity turned my stomach.

I blared 3 Doors Down as I made my way toward the hotel, becoming more alert the closer I got. I parked directly in front of my room.

I slid the key card into the hotel door and opened it slowly. The light was off, but the television was still on and turned down low. Ella was in the bed, her dark hair splayed across the white pillow. She was wearing one of my vintage band T-shirts and a pair of boxers. I could smell my cologne in the air.

My eyes danced down her long legs to a small dream catcher tattoo on her ankle.

I stumbled across the room and slipped into the bathroom, my hand pressed against the wall for balance. Taking off my T-shirt, I glanced at the mirror over the sink at the slight swelling of my lower lip. I slid my jeans and boxers down over my h*ps as I kicked off my shoes. I caught myself on the doorframe as I began to lose my balance.

I kicked my clothing to the side and took a quick shower to wash the sweat from my body as I thought over the day. I was exhausted and needed to sleep, but the hotel had no rooms available because of a convention in town this weekend. I should have told Ella that before, but I was afraid she wouldn’t stay, and I didn’t know what would happen to her.

I wrapped a towel around my waist and quietly made my way to my duffel bag. I glanced over to the bed where Ella lay unmoving. I unzipped my duffel bag and pulled out a pair of basketball shorts. I dropped the towel and tugged them on as my eyes continued to drift over her as she lay on her side. She was here and she was safe. I should have gone back to the bar. But she rolled over, whimpering as her eyes blinked open. I froze, suspended between memories and reality.