I frown. “What notebook?”
Bobby raises his eyebrows. “Don’t play dumb with us, little girl. Or do you need some reminding of who’s stronger here?”
“Don’t come near me,” I say while holding up my hands. I tuck my gun away and open my palms, showing them I’m no longer holding a weapon. “Start sending her over, and I’ll hand you the notebook.”
I pluck the phony notebook from my bra, where I typically keep the original, and edge toward them as Coach Neill shuffles toward me. Dried blood cakes the right side of her face with her hair matted against her neck. I’d say she’s seen hell and back in the time she’s been in their clutches—and there’s no telling how long precisely that’s been.
I give her a worried look as I shuffle past her. After extending the notebook to the nearest Sanderson, I reach for Coach Neill and rush her toward the door, disregarding the shouts from the brothers behind me. I yank the gag from her mouth and snap the rope from her wrists, urging her toward the tree line.
Looking over my shoulder makes me nervous, but I have to keep checking to see if those grubby men are following us. God, what the hell did they do to my coach? She hasn’t said a word while we race through the trees, my braid catching on a branch and causing me to yelp. She helps me free and shoves me forward, racing after me as I break out in a sprint.
We’re panting by the time we reach my car. The sun hangs lazily in the sky as birds sing around us, a contrasting scenery to what I just encountered in the abandoned boathouse. What has Coach Neill experienced lately? Is this the first time she’s been outside in days?
I yank the passenger door of the Mercedes open and push her inside, ignoring the guilt I feel from her cringing and then crying out. Once I’m strapped into the driver’s seat, I start the car and speed away, the tires catching for a moment on a patch of wet mud near the side of the road.
We’re about a mile away from the boathouse when I feel comfortable accepting that we haven’t been followed. Adrenaline courses through my body as I check the rear-view mirror, regardless of the empty road behind us.
“Why did you give them the notebook?” she grunts while bowing forward. “Oh, my head. Will you slow down?”
“Can’t,” I gasp. “We have to get you somewhere safe. You need to leave town.”
She winces. “Fuck leaving town.”
“Coach, you can’t stay here.”
“I can’t leave you here.”
I slam my fist against the wheel. “They could have killed you! You could have died! Why do you want to say around here after that bullshit?!”
Silence invades the cab of the Mercedes. Only the sound of the tires whirring rhythmically against the tar and the hum of the engine penetrate the curtain of quiet between us. She turns to me and says resolutely, “Just take me home.”
I can’t argue with her. I can’t blame her either. She’s probably been in Macedon her entire life. And after being so loyal to my family, she probably feels like she can’t abandon her duties.
I’m in charge. I can tell her I don’t need her anymore.
My heart seizes at the thought of never seeing her again.
But fuck, I’m selfish, too.
When I roll up in front of her house, I try not to cry. I turn to her for a moment, giving her a tight-lipped smile as she struggles to pull the lever for the door. I reach to help her and pop the door open, lingering close for a minute to keep her from falling over. She turns and leans against the door, looking much more ragged in direct sunlight.
“Thank you, Alexandra,” she says softly. “You saved my life.”
* * *
I think I sit in Coach Neill’s driveway for about ten more minutes after she leaves the car. I watch her hobble inside and wait a little while, scanning the surrounding area to make sure nobody is going to hop out of the forest and try to hack her to pieces. With so much on the line, it’s hard for me to trust that things will stay cohesive when I’m not looking.
Panic takes over once I hit the highway. I cut off onto a side road and head for Evelyn’s house, my muscles reading the road for me as my vision narrows and my spirit leaves my body. I don’t think I even realize I’m sitting in front of Evelyn’s house until she knocks on the window.
I roll down the window and say, “Get in the car.”
“What?”
“Just get in.”
As soon as she’s safely tucked inside, I drive around her house, take a back road, and then park near a pond, leaving the air conditioning on full blast and pointing the vents at my face. She touches my shoulder lightly, causing me to jump.
“You look rough,” she points out. “Everything okay?”