Hey, Mister Marshall (St. Mary's Rebels 4)
Murmurs and gasps erupt across the room as I come to my feet.
As I pick up my box and tuck it under my protective arm.
But just as I step away from the chair, Robert Bailey bursts out, “Have you lost your mind? We need to discuss —”
“I don’t fucking care.” Then, looking at the room at large I say, “I should’ve done this years ago. I should’ve quit. Actually, I never should’ve come back to this hellhole of a town, but I did. And that’s on me. But still I’d like to say, fuck you all.”
With that, I turn around and stride out of the room.
Because I’m going back.
I’m going to her.
And I’m going to say thank you for the gift.
And then I’m going to say that I need her help picking out my favorite color.
And then, then, I’m going to say everything that she wants me to. All the things that she wants to know about me, about my past. All the shameful and ugly and cowardly truths. All the things that might disgust her, that might make her take away her love.
Because she loves me, doesn’t she?
She said so.
And maybe she will take her love away after she knows all about me.
But it’s okay.
Because I’ll still tell her.
I’ll lay myself bare for her.
It’s only fair, you see.
Because she isn’t unloved either.
My Poe is not unloved.
She can never be.
Because I love her too.
And I’m in such a hurry to go to her that it takes me a few seconds to realize that my phone is ringing. I fish it out of my pocket with irritation, ready to snap at whoever it is that’s bothering me right now but their voice, their heavy pants stop me.
“Mr. Marshall?” the voice says.
I stand by my car, my hand halted in the act of opening the door. “Who is it?”
And with the following words, my world fucking falls apart:
“If you want to see Poe Blyton again, you’ll do exactly as I say.”
I’ve been kidnapped.
Kidnapped.
I mean what?
How did that happen?
How did I get kidnapped from my school in broad daylight? By none other than my almost ex-boyfriend, Jimothy Wilson, who himself had confessed to me about his kidnapping plot.
Oh right, because I’m an idiot.
I’m a fucking idiot who believed Jimmy’s lies.
When Jimmy appeared before me from out of nowhere back at the school, he told me that Big Jack would target Alaric if I didn’t come with him. That Big Jack wanted the money and he was going to do everything possible to get it, including hurting Alaric. So if I wanted Alaric to stay unharmed, I needed to participate in the stupid kidnapping plot.
So I did.
I went with him.
Because the alternative was unthinkable.
The alternative was death.
Of me.
Of my heart. My soul.
The alternative was something happening to the man I love and God, no.
No, absolutely not.
I couldn’t let that happen.
Only I should have known.
There is no Big Jack. As in Big Jack has no plans of attacking Alaric. It was one of Jimmy’s lies. If Big Jack is going to attack anyone, it’s going to be Jimmy, as Jimmy said when he brought me to this place. This dingy motel with gray walls and gray drapes on the border of Middlemarch and St. Mary’s.
“I only said that so you’d go with me,” Jimmy said while tying my hands to the plastic chair. “Look, I didn’t wanna do this, okay? I didn’t fucking wanna do this. But you forced my hand.” I flinched when he tightened the knot around my wrists. “And now look where you are.” He came to stand before me, his eyes red-rimmed and his nose sniffling. “Now, as long as you sit here and cooperate, everything is gonna be fine. I’m gonna call your fucking guardian and demand the money, and when he gives it to me, I’ll let you go. And pay Big Jack off so he’ll get off my fucking back.”
I glared up at him, my wrists and my shoulders aching from all his stupid tying. “If you do something to him, Jimmy. If you fucking lay a finger on my Alaric, I swear to God, I will end you. I will fucking —”
He gritted his teeth. “Shut the fuck up, Poe, okay? Don’t try to scare me right now. You can’t do anything anyway.”
I struggled against the bonds. “Oh, you think I’m not gonna get out of here? You think I’m gonna stay tied up forever? Because if you think that then you’re dumber than I thought. I’m gonna get out, Jimmy, and I’m gonna find you and I’m gonna fucking strangle you to death, you understand? You stay away from my Alaric. You stay —”
He slapped me then.
Fucking asshole.
“This is your fault!” he screamed, sniffling some more. “If you’d just done what I’d told you to, none of this would’ve happened. So if something happens to your precious fucking Alaric, it’s gonna be your fault.” Then, “Now, sit tight. I’m gonna go make the call and get something to eat. I’m fucking starving.”