Page 61 of You Make Me Feel
“Goodnight, Zach,” she says.
“Goodnight, beautiful.”
When the line goes dead, I sit back, phone still in my hand. My pulse is steady, but my thoughts are not. The next time I see her, she will be running. From me. From her fear. From whatever this is about to become.
seventeen
SADIE
Zach’s message arrives at exactly six o’clock. My phone lights up on the dresser, and for a second, I just stare at it. The screen glows against the soft amber light of my apartment, a quiet buzz breaking the stillness.
I already know who it’s from, but my heart still races as I swipe it open.
Drive to the north of the island. Take a left on the path before the resort. Follow the track for a mile. You’ll come to a small, wooded area, park on the left. Leave your keys in the ignition. At seven-thirty, get out of the car and head toward the tree with an x marked on the trunk. And thenyou run. – Zach
I let out a ragged breath. This is really happening. The adrenaline is already rushing through my veins. God knows what I’ll be like by seven-thirty. A wreck, I’m guessing, which is exactly how he’s planned it.
Because he’s planned everything. For me. He’s made it clear that if he’s going to give this to me he wants it to be right. To be perfect.
Truth be told, I think he’ll catch me before I’ve even stepped a foot in the forest.
I put my phone down and look at myself in the mirror above my dressing table. My face is flushed despite the makeup I’ve applied. The full works. Foundation, concealer, my eyes are made up like I’m off to dance the night away at a club. And my lips are a deep blood red.
I want to reply to him, to ask him which way I should run. But if he’s doing this properly then so am I. I’m not going to ruin the vibe. Even if my heart is slamming against my chest at the thought of hearing this man’s breath as he hunts me. Of feeling his hands as he takes me.
Of giving him everything. Because he asked me for that, too. He’s not going to do anything without my consent. And maybe that’s the biggest turn on of all. That with every step he takes, he’s thinking of me.
I’m not sure I’ve been the focus of anybody’s attention like this for a long time. If ever.
And I know I shouldn’t get used to it. That he’s only doing this because somehow he feels responsible for me.
I stand and glance toward the painting on the wall. The woman is still standing there, turned halfway toward the light, staring toward the water, always waiting.
Did the person she was waiting for ever come for her? I wonder that a lot.
But I don’t have to wonder if Zach will come for me.
At seven, I walk downstairs in the short silver dress that molds to my every curve, thankful that Romy isn’t here to ask any questions about where the hell I’m going looking like this.
I thought about wearing heels, but I stumble in them at the best of times. Instead, I’m in a pair of flats. Sandals that show off my fresh red pedicure. Everything about me is on theme.
A pretty girl being chased by a man obsessed with her.
The evening air hits me as soon as I step outside. It’s that drowsy hour between sunset and dark when the streets are empty and the gulls have fallen silent. Only the faint hum of the ocean waves carries on the breeze.
My car is parked under the streetlight, pale silver against the deepening blue of the sky. I slide inside and start the engine, the soft rumble breaking the stillness. The road north is narrow and winding, the kind that hugs the cliffs before slipping into wild stretches of grass and trees.
I don’t turn on music. I want to be alone with my thoughts. To prepare myself. This is just a game, I know that. A stupid adult version of tag that I’m doing because I read a book and found it interesting. But still, there’s an undercurrent to my pulse that makes me feel like it’s so much more.
And I like it. I like that I’ve chosen this. I like that I can stop it at any moment.
But I won’t.
The further I drive, the darker it gets, the air cooler, tinged with pine and damp earth. This part of Liberty – after the busy rush of Main Street and the glamor of the Grand Liberty Hotel, but before the new resort and the bustling port area to the north – is undeveloped. Silent and beautiful, like a lover waiting to be discovered.
By the time I reach the turnoff Zach told me about, the sunlight has almost gone. The track he mentioned no more than two tire marks through the grass, half lost beneath the shadows. I follow it slowly, the tires of my Honda crunching over loose stone.
At the mile mark, I see it. A small break in the trees. I pull over to the left, my heart racing, the headlamps slicing through the dark.
