It makes for more interesting news to paint the girl who’s fled the country to escape testifying in a rape trial as a party girl who couldn’t care less that one of her classmates is dead.
“Fuck,” I mutter beneath my breath as the segment ends with a sound bite from the father of one of the accused boys, some B list celebrity who insists his son will be proven innocent once the truth comes out.
I have no idea what the truth is, but I know my decision to let Sam keep her secrets can’t stand. She can’t run away from this because she doesn’t want to testify against Alec, or whatever else is going through her head. If she ignores a subpoena, she could go to jail.
Which is why you’re in New Zealand right now, dumbass.
I turn back to Sam with my brows furrowed, determined to find out if this is why she dragged me halfway across the world, but her seat is empty. Sometime in the thirty seconds I was sucked into the news, she must have made good on her threat and went outside. I stand, searching the café just in case, but there’s no one here but the family we kayaked with and the old man running the joint who’s still glued to the news.
I hurry outside, but there’s no sign of Sam in the parking lot, either.
“You looking for your girl?” Blake asks. For the first time today he isn’t smiling.
“Yeah, you seen her?”
He nods and points toward the road. “She got into a truck with some fella like ten seconds ago. I told her the van was almost here, but…she didn’t seem to hear me.”
I curse as I run a hand through my hair, my pulse racing.
Where the fuck is she going? And what did she see in L.A. that has her so messed up she’s willing to run away and leave me in the middle of a foreign country without so much as a “see you later.”
“Did you see which direction the truck went?” I ask, prepared to run after her if that’s my only option.
Blake points back the way we came. “Toward Taupo. Sit up front with me, bro and we’ll look for it on the way back. I didn’t like the look of the driver.”
I’m about to tell him thanks, but no thanks, that I can’t wait even a few minutes to go after her, when a van with the Waikato River Tours logo painted on the side pulls into the parking lot.
“Get in,” Blake says, clapping me on the shoulder as he heads back into the café. “I’ll hustle everyone else into the van. We’ll catch up. A truck that old can’t be going that fast.”
I nod, trying not to imagine what could happen to Sam if she got into a car with a creep. I try to remember how strong she is, and the way she fought back against that guy in Auckland, but I keep thinking about how easy it was to lift her in one arm last night as I carried her into our cabin.
Sam’s got a big personality and a big smile, but she’s still only five seven and a hundred and fifty pounds.
Against a man my size, or bigger, she won’t stand a chance.
Chapter Thirteen
Samantha
“The thorns which I have reap’d are of the tree
I planted; they have torn me, and I bleed.
I should have known what fruit would spring from such a seed.”
-Lord Byron
* * *
It’s over.
There won’t be any fresh start, no happy ending.
I should have realized Todd’s father’s connection to Hollywood would make the rape trial news even overseas. The entire goddamned planet worships celebrity. Jesus may still fill pews on weekends, but it’s celebrity and scandal that drives clicks and powers the twenty-four hour news channels.
I should have known better than to think I could put the past behind me and move on. The past was always here, lurking in my bone marrow like a cancer, providing the illusion of safety when it had the power to resurface and destroy my life all along.
“You can come all the way to Auckland with me if you want.” The middle-aged man with the mangy beard who picked me up slows as we pull into downtown Taupo, but doesn’t pull over. “I don’t mind. I like company.”
I laugh, a strangled giggle that sounds as crazy as I feel right now.
I haven’t said a word to this man since offering my name thirty seconds into the ride, and have ignored all of his attempts to make conversation. I’ve just been staring out the window, chewing on my lip until the skin feels bruised, my thoughts racing as I try to figure out what to do next.
I can’t go back to the hotel and wait for Danny, but I can’t take the car and run, either. Taupo is hours away from Auckland. Even if I leave Danny a note and money for a flight home, he won’t be able to afford a taxi, and I have no idea if the buses around here run that far.