As I became aware of my surroundings, I realised I was in a moving car. A car I recognised. A car that I’d ridden in every Monday afternoon for a while now. Remaining perfectly still, I tried to make sense of what was going on. Why was I in Dylan’s car? I was supposed to be meeting Carter, wasn’t I? Or had that been a dream? My head was so fuzzy; I couldn’t make sense of anything.
I trusted my instincts, though, and all my senses were on red alert. Something was wrong, and I didn’t know what.
“Dylan?” It was an effort to form the words. My tongue felt thick, like it was too big for my mouth, and my voice came out as an unsure mumble. “Where are we going?” Turning to look at his profile, I watched a smile appear on his face.
“I wondered when you’d wake up. How are you feeling?” His tone was light and conversational, but there was something so off about him. He was all jittery, clasping and unclasping the steering wheel, his breaths coming in shallow pants.
“My head feels funny.”
He chuckled. “That’s an unfortunate side effect of the sedative. Don’t worry, it won’t last. I only gave you a small dose.”
He sedated me? My brain tried to make sense of his words. It was such an effort to think.
I suddenly realised that he’d brought the car to a stop by the side of the road. “We’re not getting out, but I need you to do something for me. I need you to send a text to Carter to tell him you’ve gone home, okay? Tell him you’re not feeling well.” He reached his hand out towards my face, and I jerked away on instinct. His eyes narrowed, and he shook his head. “No funny business, Raine. No trying anything stupid like attempting to run away. I don’t want to hurt you, so please don’t make me.”
Make him? I could only watch as he placed my phone into my hands and waited, expectantly. Everything seemed so sluggish, like I was underwater or something.
“Send the text,” he prompted, when I remained still.
Right. The text. Think.
I typed slowly while he watched my every movement, reading the words as I wrote them. “I’m making it sound more personal.” I coughed, then licked my lips. “So…so he won’t get suspicious.” As soon as I hit Send, Dylan took the phone from my hands and turned it off, then threw it into the back of the car. All I could do was hope that Carter would understand my coded message. If he didn’t…I couldn’t let myself think about it. I had no idea what was happening, but the fact that Dylan had not only sedated me but had basically kidnapped me…my odds weren’t looking great.
I felt a sudden, sharp sting in my neck, and everything faded to black.
“Dylan Rossiter? Mr. Jackson’s nephew?” Preston gave me a questioning look, his brow raised.
“How do you know he’s his nephew?”
“Who’s Dylan Rossiter?”
“What’s all this about?”
Everyone was suddenly speaking at once, and I held up my hand. “Stop. Preston, what was that about Mr. Jackson? Are you talking about the school caretaker?”
Preston nodded. “Yes. I got talking to Mr. Jackson one afternoon—his cousin lives in Connecticut, close to where I’m from, and anyway, he mentioned his nephew attended AHS and told me his name. I’m not sure if it’s common knowledge.”
I doubted it was. Dylan was one of those people who, like Raine, flew under the radar. I barely knew who he was—it was only through his connection to Raine that I’d had any idea. But being related to the caretaker—that could explain how he had access to the office of the head of the drama department. That was if he was behind the other things that had happened to Raine.
The more I thought about it, the more the idea solidified. I didn’t have any proof, yet every instinct was telling me that this was our guy. And if he was behind it all, and if Raine was worried enough to send me a coded message, then she could be in real danger.
Passing my phone to Xavier, I showed him Raine’s earlier text, and he immediately came to the same conclusion. “You know, she was telling us about all this stuff that had happened to her, earlier. She thought Ana might have been behind it. Do you think this Dylan guy could be the culprit?”
I shrugged. “I have no proof, but…yeah. Yeah, I do.”
He nodded. “Then we need to act. And fast.”
“Where has he taken her? We don’t even know his address.” The panic was rising again. “Fuck. What do we do? Do any of you know where he lives? Can we…wait. Can we get into the school records?”
Across from me, Lena cleared her throat. “Maybe I can help with that.”
We all stared at her. A small smile flickered across her face, before she turned her attention to her phone, her fingers flying across the screen. Eventually, she raised her head. “We just need to wait for a few minutes.”
Standing in the cold night, we fell silent. Every one of my senses was on high alert. After the longest few minutes of my life, Lena’s phone beeped, and she smiled triumphantly. “Got it. Full name, address, date of birth. I’ll forward you the info now.”
Less than thirty seconds later, I was staring at the information on my screen, memorising the address, committing all the details to memory, before I forwarded the information to Kian and Xavier.
Already moving towards my car, I spun to face the others. “Ready?”
Dylan Rossiter was going down.
38
When I awoke again, I was lying on a soft surface. Blinking my eyes open, I attempted to focus. My vision was
