Snared (9 page)

“Barely,” Lindsay said.

“I don't doubt it,” he told her. Then her dad put a hand on her leg and patted it warmly. “I just want to make sure we're clear on a few things,” he said.

“Okay.”

“The man who came over today and the other one…Those men are social workers, and that boy is their ward. They are court-appointed guardians.”

“I just thought they were his dads,” Lindsay said, suddenly less comfortable with the lies. “I never thought to ask about it.”

“Well, they aren't. His parents died a long time ago, and the kid's had a rough go of it, but that doesn't excuse what he's done. Or what he might do.”

“No, it doesn't,” Lindsay agreed. Of course, she knew he hadn't done anything.

“Good,” her dad said, rising from the bed. “I'm glad you see it that way. I mean I know you didn't want to be here. We kind of dragged you away from your life, and I figure you're still upset about that.”

“I'm not upset.”

“You were. And you had a right to be. I was being selfish. I knew you didn't want to spend time with us. You're growing up and have friends and plans, and next year you'll have more friends and more plans. The year after that, you'll be a senior and then you'll go to college. I figured this was the last time we'd be spending any real time together, and I wanted that.”

Lindsay said nothing.

“I know I'm going to miss spending time with you,” her dad continued. “Hell, I already do. You're my favorite person in the world.”

Before Lindsay could say anything else, her dad left the room and closed the door.

She hadn't been this close to tears in a very long time.

When morning came, the sky was overcast with a summer storm. Lindsay snuggled into the comforter and looked at the window, resisting the urge to run to it and look out. Instead she climbed out of bed and went downstairs. As always, her parents met her in the kitchen. They seemed happy and relaxed, the issue of the boy next door resolved in their minds.

“No beach today,” her dad announced. “It's supposed to rain.”

“That blows,” Lindsay said. But she didn't really mind. Actually, she'd been thinking of doing something else all night. “Maybe we could hit the outlet mall? It didn't look too far from town.”

Both her parents perked up at the suggestion: her mom because it meant shopping, one of the few passions they shared; her dad because it meant the whole family would be spending time together the way he wanted. Lindsay didn't have to say another word about it.

In her room, she took her laptop off the window seat. She couldn't help but look outside, but she never got the chance to peer into Mark's window. The man that called himself Mr. Richter, the man Mark called Doug, stood on the sand below. His head cocked upward to stare at Lindsay's window.

You ass
, Lindsay thought, quickly backing away from the glass. She carried her laptop to the bed and powered it up. Lindsay spent thirty minutes reading and answering emails. She promised to call Kate when she got back from shopping with her parents. Then she logged off and went across the hall to shower.

She had a busy day ahead.

 

By the time her dad pulled the SUV into the massive parking lot of the Rocky Shores Mall, the rain was coming down hard. Though the storm didn't
even compare to the one that marked their first day of vacation, the downpour was substantial. Apparently the mall was a favored place for locals during foul weather, because the parking lot was almost full when they arrived.

Finally her dad found a space on the far end of the lot. They only had a single umbrella, so huddled together, they dashed for the covered walkway that ran in and around the outlet stores. Her dad laughed as he trotted along holding the umbrella over their heads. Her mom complained good-naturedly.

At first Lindsay stayed close to her parents. Her dad was having such a good time he bought her three blouses at Banana Republic and insisted she try more on. It was kind of like Christmas, only Lindsay got to pick out all of her own gifts. At the Coach store, her dad bought himself a new wallet and a belt. Her mom even considered a new purse, but ultimately talked herself out of the purchase.

After a couple of hours, Lindsay hoisted her bags and went off on her own. Her dad wanted to explore the Ralph Lauren store, and her mom needed to visit the Mikasa outlet. Lindsay took the opportunity and told her parents she would be at
the Gap, looking at shorts. It wasn't a lie.

She did go to the Gap to buy shorts, but they weren't for her. She'd hugged Mark, and he was about the same size as her first boyfriend, Todd. As a result, she had a good idea about his waist size. She chose two pairs—oatmeal and khaki. She stopped at a table loaded down with T-shirts and picked out three in a size that would actually fit him, unlike the black shirt he always wore. She made sure she picked bright, interesting colors. Mark was probably tired of black, probably hated the sight of it by now.

She couldn't believe his guardians had taken all of his clothes. That was third-world cruelty. She'd never heard anything like it before.

She made a quick stop in the Nike store and bought an inexpensive blue gym bag. She finished her shopping in just less than thirty minutes, which still gave her plenty of time before she was to meet her parents in the food court for a late lunch. Walking by the GNC, she noticed a display for protein bars and decided she would buy some of those for Mark.

If he were really running away, he'd need them.

Lindsay returned to the food court and nearly
stumbled to a stop in the doorway. Tee and Mel sat at a table halfway across the room. So much had happened in the last few days, Lindsay had all but forgotten the girls, but there they were, flipping their platinum hair and talking a mile a minute over sodas, totally engrossed in each other's words. That ended soon enough, though. As if a bell sounded over the food court door, both girls turned their heads and saw her.

Tee and Mel lowered their chins and looked at her harshly. Lindsay felt like turning and running, but instead, she stood her ground. She didn't know what Ev had said about her, trying to cover her ass for scamming on Mark, but it was probably nasty. No doubt Tee and Mel were full-on against her now because Ev told them to be. If they knew Ev's plan to ditch them, they might not be so loyal.

Lindsay strolled into the court and walked across to the Electra-Juice. She ordered herself a strawberry smoothie and waited while the pimple-faced boy made it for her. She could almost feel the girls at her back, even before one of them spoke.

“Hey,” Mel said.

Lindsay turned slowly, noticed the girls, and
then turned back to the counter. Whatever. She had nothing to say to the bonfire club.

“We're talking to you,” Tee announced, grabbing Lindsay's arm.

She spun around, shaking off Tee's grip.

“What is with you?” Tee asked. “We're all cool to you. We let you in, let you be one of us, and you spit all over it? Who do you think you are?”

“Yeah,” Mel said.

“I didn't ask to be in,” Lindsay snapped. “You and Ev can bite my ass.”

“Ev was nothing but cool to you.”

“She tried to snare my boyfriend,” Lindsay said. It was close enough to the truth.

“Oh, right,” Mel scoffed. “Like Ev would
have
to
try
?”

“You would so lose,” Tee added. “Whatever. Look, we were just coming over to tell you Ev was sick and all. We didn't see you at the hospital and you never called us back. We thought you might care, but obviously you don't give a crap.”

Ev was in the hospital? The news came as a shock. No wonder Mel and Tee gave her such nasty looks. They thought Lindsay was still Ev's friend, and she hadn't even visited her. That also
explained why Char wasn't with them. If Ev was sick, Char would never leave her bedside.

“I didn't know she was sick,” Lindsay said, feeling awful. “I'm sorry.”

“Yeah. Sure you are.” Tee crossed her arms over her chest.

“Is she okay?”

“Like
you
care,” Mel said. “She's having this total nervous breakdown, and you stand here talking trash about her. I do
not
think so.”

“Oh my god,” Lindsay whispered, shocked. “I didn't know.”

“Whatevs!” Tee said. She spun on her heels.

Mel did the same, and a moment later they both walked away through the crowded food court.

 

In her room at her uncle's house, Lindsay removed tags from the shorts she'd bought Mark. She folded the shorts and the T-shirts. She placed everything in the blue gym bag. As she did so, she thought about Mel and Tee. Thought about Ev.

A nervous breakdown? That was awful.

What did she see in Mark's room?

Lindsay tried to fold that thought and put it away, like another pair of shorts. More than likely
Ev was on her way to crazy before that night. She was so young and suddenly faced with all of this pressure in her career, and she snapped. That was logical enough. Lindsay wanted to believe it, but didn't. Something had driven Ev out of her mind.

She saw Mark's guardians in that room.

They perform these rituals sometimes
.

Ev stumbled onto one of these rituals, and it must have been horrible.

Like I said, some of that junk is just full-on creepy
.

But why were they performing rituals in Mark's room? God, what were they going to do to him? Lindsay went to the window and looked out. The shade was down over Mark's window. He couldn't even call her. He couldn't call for help because he'd returned her cell phone. He was alone down there, trapped in that house with two men who were becoming more and more dangerous.

Lindsay zipped up the blue gym bag, now filled with supplies for Mark. Would she get the chance to give it to him?

 

“Are you like totally in love with him?” Kate gushed.

“No,” Lindsay said. “God, I hardly know him.”

“Has he kissed you yet?”

“Yes.”

“You totally have to stick to our pact. Even if you are on vacation. It still counts.”

“Don't be a freak, Kate.”

Lindsay hadn't even thought about the pact in months. Last year, after watching
Titanic
for the billionth time, they swore to each other that they wouldn't go all the way until they were really, totally, completely in love. It had to be a Leo-Kate kind of love or else it didn't count. Looking back on it now, Lindsay found the pact rather childish and wondered why she ever agreed to it in the first place. It was like two little girls swearing they would only marry princes or something.

“So, is he taking you out or what?”

“Not really,” Lindsay said. “There's no place to go but the beach. So we just kind of hang around the house.”

That wasn't too much of a lie.

“I'm so jealous,” Kate said. “I can't believe you snared yourself a boyfriend. No one's ever going to talk to me again, not after the tragic fun-suck of a party.”

“Trey said he had a great time,” Lindsay assured
for the fourth time. “He said everyone had a really good time. Well, except for Constance.”

“She's such a skank engine. She knew I liked Chad. I totally told her last week, and the first thing she does is climb on him. At my party! In my BED!”

Then Kate launched into another ten-minute rant about the girls at school and how she didn't trust any of them, except for Lindsay of course. Lindsay grunted and said, “yeah,” in all the right places. She knew how girls could be. She'd seen Ev in action.

Instead of feeling angry when she thought about Ev, Lindsay found herself feeling sorry for the girl. It was strange. She didn't like Ev, but she pitied her. Ev was calculating and driven and would have done anything to escape Redlands Beach. It was her one dream: to get out. But she wouldn't get out now. She'd seen something that drove her crazy, and traded the glamour of a blossoming career for a hospital bed in a psychiatric ward.

“Are you seeing him tomorrow?” Kate asked.

“What?” Lindsay said. “Oh. Depends on his dads.”

She crossed to the window again and looked out. Mr. Richter stood beneath the scraggly tree, facing the house.

“They're really strict,” Lindsay said.

“That's weird. Rachel's moms are totally cool. Maybe it's a guy thing.”

“Yeah,” Lindsay said, forcing a laugh. “It might be.”

She wanted to spill everything to Kate, wanted to tell her about Mark's abusive guardians. How he was all alone with them. How he couldn't contact help. She wanted to tell her best friend about Ev, and how she'd melted down after seeing something in that house. She wanted to let Kate know that she was going to help Mark. It wasn't much, just a few supplies to get him started.

She didn't take the chance telling Kate, though. She couldn't. Not yet. When it was all done and Mark was safely away, Lindsay would tell Kate everything. Until then, she needed to stay quiet.

The rain finally stopped. Her parents announced they were going to take “a snooze for about an hour.” Lindsay returned to her room and went to the window.

She was surprised to note that neither Doug nor Jack stood in the yard, at least no place where she could see them. She was more surprised to see Mark in his window, looking up at her. He waved his arm frantically for her to come over. He looked totally desperate to talk to her.

Lindsay rushed down the stairs and out the door. At the side of the house, she paused, wondering how she would get near his window without
leaving tracks in the sand. The answer appeared quickly enough.

Like her uncle's house, Mark's sat up off the ground, giving way to low thatches of grass. All Lindsay had to do was cling to the side of the house and step on those. Sure she would still leave prints, but they wouldn't be nearly as obvious as tromping through the sand. She moved fast but carefully from one tuft of grass to the next.

At Mark's window, she peered in. He stood on the other side of the small desk, looking absolutely miserable. His eyes were swollen as if he'd been crying. Dark circles painted the puffy skin beneath. He looked very thin and quite ill.

Lindsay put her palms against the glass and pulled, but it didn't budge. Inside, Mark shook his head.

“They locked it,” he called.

“Are you okay?” Lindsay asked, trying to make her voice just loud enough for Mark to hear, but not so loud it carried to her parents' room at the front of her uncle's house.

He shook his head. Moving slowly as if in great pain, Mark grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and
pulled it over his head. Lindsay looked through the dirty glass, remembering her first view of him, topless and smoothly muscular. Her eyes roamed over his perfect pale skin, his wonderful abs, and she squinted, wondering what it was Mark wanted her to see.

Head low, like a beaten dog, Mark turned around.

Lindsay saw his back and gasped. Her stomach clenched tight and her throat closed with horror. She put a hand over her mouth to keep from screaming.

Two dark circles about the size of bracelets were carved or burned into Mark's back. The filthy glass and gloomy bedroom made it hard to tell exactly how the wounds were inflicted. But there they were, two circles filled with complex swirls and lines, etched on Mark's skin. They were puffy and red and recently scabbed over. They were awful.

“My god,” Lindsay whimpered, already crying from the horrible sight.

Mark turned back to her. He didn't bother putting his shirt on.

“I think they're going to kill me,” he said, his
voice barely loud enough for Lindsay to hear. “I tried to leave and they did this. They're going to kill me.”

“No, they won't,” Lindsay said, sniffing and wiping the tears from her eyes. “I won't let them.”

“You can't do anything,” Mark said. “I told you before.”

“It's going to be okay,” Lindsay said. “Just hold on. Okay? I'll be right back.”

Again Mark nodded his head.

Lindsay needed to get the gym bag and then get Mark out of that house, but it was so damn hard to leave him. He needed her and shouldn't be alone. She wiped the freshest of her tears away, then eased along the side of the house.

She looked back one last time, seeing only the angle of the window. Then she stepped onto the sand and headed for the porch of her uncle's house. Inside, she hurried quietly up the stairs. In her room she grabbed the blue gym bag and her tote, which carried her cell phone, Treo, and wallet.

Back in the hall, she was heading for the stairs when the door to her parents' room opened. Lindsay froze.

“Everything okay?” her dad whispered.

“Sure,” Lindsay said, hearing the tremble in her own voice.
Be cool,
she thought.
Be cool.
“I was just running down to the boardwalk for a bit.”

“Is it still raining?” her dad wanted to know.

“No. It stopped.”

“Good,” he said quietly. “I was hoping we'd get some more sun. I wanted to grill out tonight. Have a good time. Be careful.”

“I will,” she said, looking at her father's kind round face. He looked sleepy, but also concerned. Maybe he didn't believe her. She forced a smile and waved quickly.

She'd get Mark out of the house and then come home. Her parents wouldn't even know. It would be over in a few minutes.

 

Outside, she dashed across the sand to Mark, the blue bag and her tote striking her hips in turn. No longer worried about leaving prints in the sand, she raced through the alley right up to the window. Mark stood inside, looking dazed.

“You have to go,” Lindsay said. “Come on.”

Mark blinked and then his eyes grew wide when he began to understand what she was saying.

“I can't,” Mark said. “I can't open the window.
You'll have to break it.”

What? Why couldn't he open the window? Lindsay didn't understand, but she had no time to question him. She looked around the sand until she found a good-sized rock. Gripping it tightly, she smashed the glass near the lock, reached in, and unlatched the frame. She slid open the window and waited for Mark to climb out.

But he didn't move.

“Get out of there!” Lindsay said, her voice trembling with desperation.

“Give me the rock,” Mark whispered.

“What are you talking about?”

“Just give it to me.”

Lindsay did as he asked, anxious for him to get moving. With a high toss, the stone flew through the window and into Mark's hand.

Behind him, the door slammed open. Jack stood on the threshold. Before the door even crashed against the wall, he was already shouting gibberish at Mark, waving his hands in the air like a stage magician trying to sell a trick.

A tiny smile pushed up the corners of Mark's mouth. He spun and hurled the rock at Jack. It connected solidly with the burly man's forehead.
Jack's eyes rolled up. He staggered, then fell over the threshold into Mark's room, hitting the floor facedown.

“Bastard,” Mark spat.

He stepped forward and reached out a hand toward the opening to the hall. He snatched his fingers back when they reached the threshold. He tried again. Mark shoved his hand into the doorway as if testing the air, wiggled his fingers.

“Thanks, pal,” he said to the unconscious form of Jack. Then he stepped out of the room.

Lindsay jogged along the house to meet Mark at the porch. When she rounded the corner, Mark was already standing on the sand in front of her. Startled by his speed, Lindsay jumped a bit. Then Mark's arms went around her in a tight hug that nearly cut off her breath.

“I can't believe you did this for me,” he said. “Thank you. Thank you.”

Lindsay's legs grew weak, and she fell against Mark, letting his strength hold her up. He felt so good next to her; he felt absolutely perfect. She didn't want the embrace to end, but it had to end. He needed to get away from this house and this beach, and he needed to do it fast.

“You have to go,” she whispered, feeling so sad she could barely finish the sentence.

“I don't think I'll make it very far,” Mark said, sounding terribly weak.

“You have to try.”

“They hurt me pretty bad,” he said. “My back.”

“We have to get you someplace safe,” Lindsay told him.

“You'll go with me?” he asked.

“I'll get you someplace safe,” she said, burying her face in his neck, holding him as tightly as her arms would allow.