Page 38 of Half Truths (Secret Society 1)
“Yes.” My voice shook.
“Is that a yes, you want to find out? Yes, you’ll start taking steps to join our group?”
“I said yes.” My hands balled into fists. I was standing my ground dammit.
“Good.”
A rush of air fell over us and all of the candles went out suddenly, all at once, and we were all covered in darkness. Not even the stars on the other side of the window above us were helpful to light the room.
“What is happening?” I asked. I looked around, relying on my senses as I blinked in the darkness and prayed my pupils got used to it quickly. I was shaking as I asked, “What are you doing?”
If I’d walked into this room and it had been dark, I could’ve relied on my senses. I could’ve listened for footsteps, but I was completely lost right now, unsure of whether to move forward or back or trip over candles if I tried going side to side. I didn’t hear their approach, but suddenly, there was something over my head and my arms were being held behind me. My first instinct was to scream and kick, trashing against the grasp of the person who held me and lifted me off the ground, but it was useless. It was definitely a man, a strong one who was probably used to taking hits and stood despite them. My mind went to my brother first. Lincoln could take a hit like nobody’s business. Then instantly my thoughts turned to Hailey’s words when we first met. She said she suspected that the four hockey players we’d seen, Logan included, were in a society. All of those thoughts jumbled together as I gasped, took in air to scream again, but the oxygen was limited and with him walking as I tried to scream, the cloth kept going into my mouth, making me feel more out of breath. I felt like a fish out of water, quite literally.
His grip tightened around me, but I continued to kick, to move, in hopes that he’d drop me. I shut my eyes tightly in hopes that it would help the feeling of confinement, but all it did was intensify it—the silence, the boots thumping on the floor as he walked with me in his arms, the darkness, my shallow breathing. He stopped walking suddenly and I was set down like a bale of hay. His hands were gone. His footsteps retreated. And then a door shut, leaving me in the complete darkness. I yanked the cloth from my head and tossed it aside, trying to catch my breath in heaping gasps as I sat there.
Chapter Fifteen
My eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room. There were more candles in here—six of them on the other side of the room. It was like a cave, a dungeon of sorts. Clean though. It smelled clean, as if someone had taken the time to mop the floors and dust off the cobwebs. I launched for the door, trying the knob but found it locked from the outside.
“You can’t keep me in here!” I banged. “Someone knows I’m here. I sent the location. He’ll call the cops!”
No response.
“My father will end you for this.” I tried again, pounding with both fists.
Again, no response.
I searched for my phone, my purse, and found they’d confiscated both. That enraged me further, so I tried again.
“I’ll sue you for this. You won’t ever get a decent job in your lives!”
Typical rich girl shit, I knew, but it normally worked. Not on them. I was met with more silence. I screamed until my throat felt dry. Finally, I stopped and looked around. There was a water bottle with a little card that read: Drink Me. I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t Alice and I sure as shit wasn’t going to drink it. I picked it up. It was sealed. I set it down and screamed again, and again, until my throat hurt. Then, I stopped. I walked over to the candles and noticed there was a small box. I sat in front of it, hesitating. What if this was a sick joke and they’d put a rat in it? I put my hand over it cautiously and shook it before picking it up. It was definitely something light. Papers? I opened the lid slowly and saw pictures. They’d taken the time to have them printed. I took out the stack and saw Lincoln. Then, Lincoln and Lana. All of the photographs were taken by someone who seemed to be trailing them without their knowledge. In one, they were standing close to each other, Lincoln was at least a foot taller than Lana, who was short and petite. Something about the picture was weird. I knew my brother better than I knew myself, and I knew how he looked when he was dating someone or interested in them. This wasn’t it. They were looking around in some of the pictures, as if trying to make sure they weren’t spotted together or overheard. An unsettling feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. For some strange reason, I felt like I was going to throw up. Maybe because my brother looked like himself in all of these photographs and Lana was still here and alive. Were they trying to get me to believe Lincoln had something to do with her disappearance? I hoped not. He couldn’t have something to do with that. He wouldn’t . . . my stomach lurched again. I glanced up at the water bottle on the table and stood to grab it. It was sealed. It was safe. I intended to take a small sip, but downed half the contents instead.
