40 thoooooousand fucking votes - insane, unbelievable and I cried. Thank you so so much. Not only that but 740K reads too? and we hit 2,600 of us??? 

It's genuinely just getting crazier and crazier and I cannot express enough how much I appreciate you guys and everything you do for me! 

I LOVE YOU.

I'm just going to sit here and sip my tea while you read this chapter... yeah woops.

Apologies.

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CHAPTER 71

Surprisingly, this wasn't the most awkward car journey I'd experienced. 

After pretty much being frozen in shock at her kindness, I had jumped at Tracey's offer and the two of us raced to her car without another word. 

So far we hadn't said much to each other - the radio had been a nice alternative to trying to make small talk. 

Outside, I was beginning to lose track of how many forests we had driven through. I didn't recognise a single feature anymore and definitely could not pinpoint on a map where we were. We'd been driving for over an hour and my phone hadn't stopped ringing. 

When it vibrates for the hundredth time, I don't even glance at the name before switching it off completely and throwing it in the side door.

"Is there a reason you don't want your boyfriend coming along?" Tracey asks, her usual snideness still present but much less aggressive than usual, "Couldn't he take Matt out in like, one punch?"

I snort slightly at the image - she wasn't wrong. 

"I don't want anything to escalate, I need to make sure that my friends are alright," I pause, "I can't lose anyone else."

Tracey let's out a sound of boredom, a low one that drags out and when I look over at her she's rolling her eyes. 

"Even when someone else dies and I'm the one that should feel guilty, you still somehow make it about you," she laughs, "Typical, what more should I expect from 'perfect' Annabelle Williams."

I frown at her, "I mean it is my fault, Matt-"

"Nothing that Matt does is ever your fault, alright?" she butts in, her tone almost bored as she turns another corner and heads down another empty road, "If anything, you should be praising yourself. God knows how out of control he would be if you hadn't been dealing with him all these years."

It's strange - I think that's the first time she's ever not outrightly insulted me. 

"You shouldn't have to be dealing with him either," I reply after a moment, my voice soft, "As much as we don't get along, I would never wish anything like that on you. Or anyone."

Her hands tighten around the steering wheel in response, shoulders straightening as she glances over at me. 

"What's it like?" she asks, real curiosity in her voice, "To always be good?"

My confusion must show on my face because she rolls her eyes again and lets out another bark of forced laughter. 

"What do you mean?"

"Like that!" she half shouts, motioning over to me, "What's it like to have a moral compass that always points you in the right direction. What's it like to be so good naturally, to be born knowing how to be kind to people and  to always pick the right path?" 

I'm dumbfounded. 

She thought I was good?

"I mean... I don't think," I shrug, my words stumbling, "I don't know if I'm good I just..."

I trail off, not knowing what to say but I can feel her eyes continuously glancing over to me. Like she's trying to figure something out like she's the one who's confused. 

"You know I've been jealous of you since we were kids," she finally says, breaking the silence as I look at her in shock, "Before Matt or highschool or popularity I just... You always seemed to just get it right, y'know."

She laughs and shoots me an embarrassed smile.

"It's stupid, I know, considering the amount of fucked up situations you were actually dealing with but to me, you always seemed to just get it. Like you never seemed to not have a friend around you, teachers would let you off with not having homework but then would shout at me and I was struggling to even find one person who could put up with me for longer than a week to be my friend," she sighs.

"That's why I envied you - not because of anything you had but because it just seemed to come to you so naturally, you didn't have to try. You never even stumbled or had a bad moment that you lashed out - even when I used to say the most horrible things to you, you never treated me the same," she winces, "And believe me you had every right to."

That's how she saw me? All these years I thought that she thought I was stuck up or spoiled or any of the other things she used to say to me - take a pick there was at least one hundred - but I had never thought that she viewed me at all positively. 

"I don't know why," I mumble after a moment, still trying to wrap my head around her view of me, "I never saw myself as good I just... I guess I just never wanted anyone to feel like how my father made me feel. I didn't ever want to be the reason for someones pain."

As I say it, it resonates with me. I'd never realised it before but it was the truth - if there was anything that my grandmother had taught me in life it was to be kind.

Plus, Mrs Grenway had definitely made me terrified of karma as I came into my teenage years.

"Your dad," Tracey pries, "He wasn't nice to you - was he?"

I almost want to laugh at her question, it seems so silly to me. I could probably count on one hand the number of times my father was 'nice' to me and I still don't think it could be classed as anything other than not being overly horrible. 

"You know how guys always joke that girls with daddy issues end up dating someone just like their father?" I joke, trying to ignore the pain in my chest, "Yeah, they might have had a point."

"Well, my dad left us for his secretary so I guess we're both screwed."

Our laughter sounds strange together. It's something I would never have expected and I find it even more strange when I actually find myself actually smiling at Tracey. 

Even more weird - she's smiling back.

Our chuckles die slowly and it seems like she's thinking about the same thing as I am. How odd this situation is, the years we've spent hating each other. 

"I know I should apologise for being the person your boyfriend cheated on you with, but I'm not sorry."

There's the Tracey I know.

Catching my expression of disbelief she laughs again, shaking her hair out before fixing it almost immediately.

"At the time I just wanted everything you had, and that included Matt. I kind of revelled in the fact that your little life wasn't so perfect and I could take something from you, but now?" she takes a deep breath, "Now I think it was probably the only good thing that I ever did for you."

If someone had told me a year ago, a month ago, even a week ago that I would be sitting in Tracey Ryan's car laughing with her and actually getting along - I would have sent you to a sanitorium. 

But here I was - and she was right. She was the final straw for me leaving Matt, in the strangest way I owed her for showing me his true colours.

Not that I didn't already kind of know them.

"You know, I think that might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me," I tease causing her to chuckle, "Careful, I might start to think you want to not hate each other anymore."

"Me and you get along?" she laughs, throwing me a wink, "Annabelle Williams, you have gone mad." 

"You know my friends call me Elle," I point out with a raised brow. 

"Well then," she smirks, pulling up at the side of the road, "Good thing we're not friends."

All the teasing tone and laughter dies from both of our figures as we stare out the window, the cabin way in the distance cutting all humour from the moment. 

"That's it," she points, her hand moving to a gap in the trees in front of it where I can see a worn path, "That's the way I went in, I don't know what you're planning on doing but there's a lot of them and only one of you."

I grit my teeth at her words, already knowing that I didn't stand a chance if anyone was to see me.

"I just want to see if Cam and Kristie are there," I reply, fear lacing my words, "I know it's a lot to ask but-"

"I'll stay here," Tracey states, boredom in her voice that almost makes me feel calm, "You have no way of getting home otherwise, so."

It's almost comical that the one person helping me is the one person who I thought hated me most in this world. But here we were.

"But, if anyone comes towards me I'm leaving you behind," the calmness to her voice disappears for a moment as her neck tenses, "I don't want to end up like Andy." 

That makes two of us.

"And that's completely fair," I agree, opening the door of the car, "If I'm not back in thirty minutes then-"

"Then I'm driving home and getting myself a Starbucks while pretending that I had nothing to do with this," she finishes for me, her deadpanned expression letting me know how serious she is.

Well, safe to say I had thirty minutes and that was it.

Out of everything, this makes me laugh, the normality of Tracey being a bit of a bitch puts my nerves at ease and lets me get out the car with a small smile on my face. 

As I go to shut the door I quickly catch it, poking my head down one last time. 

"Oh by the way Tracey," I say casually, interrupting her self assessment in the mirror, "I still think you can be a good person...you might just have a lot of apologising to do."

I shut the door quickly after I finish, making sure to not slam it as to alert anyone to my presence. Tracey's shocked face is clear through the windscreen and I try not to laugh as I walk away, my heart already beginning to beat faster. 

I could do this, I could do this.

"Hey, Elle," I spin around quickly to see the blonde girls head sticking out her window, her voice a hush, "Try not to get hurt, I'm not living with that guilt."

The window slides up straight after but I still smile at her, appreciating the words - the ones she has said and the ones that she hasn't.

I would love to spend time sitting with her and talking about all the hardships that we've gone through and how we're probably not that different at our cores but, as the wind picks up around me, I'm blatantly reminded that my two best friends could currently be getting held captive by my psycho ex and his friends. 

"There's a sentence I never thought I'd say," I whisper to myself as I crouch down, moving behind the row of bushes. 

Tracey was right in saying the cabin was old - it looked like it hadn't been lived in for quite some time but from the lights inside and the cars peeking out from behind it, it was clear that that wasn't the case. 

Then I spot it. 

"The rolling lemon," I whisper.

Kristie was here.

Now I just needed to show Trent this place. 

I reach for my phone, ready to take a picture and send it to him so that he can find it and help get her back but my hands come up empty, my pockets far too light.

I don't have my phone.

Panic fills me as I glance back at the way I've just come, my eyes scouring the ground for it in case I've dropped it. It's only when I look up and see Tracey's car in the distance that I remember shoving it in her door. 

"Fuck," I mutter, already beginning to turn to go back and get it, "I'm the worst rescuer ever." 

"Yes," a voice says from behind me, a dark, humourous tone twisting my guts as I freeze in place, "Yes you are."

I open my mouth to scream and prepare my legs to run but before I can so much as take a breath, something hits me over the back of the head and I fall to my knees, my head spinning. 

I was definitely going to be longer than thirty minutes.

.

I'm back in the same place a dreamed before. 

I don't know how I know that it's the same place because it's still blurred and unrecognisable, but something I feel let's me know that I'm there.

The pink that I saw above me before, I now realise is blossom trees.

Running water that sounds like an electric pulse.

It's quiet.

Peaceful.

Still.

The woman stands in front of me again, faceless but her hands stretched out, waiting for me to accept it.

As I reach, her mouth forms, lips on a bare canvas.

Wake up, Elle she whispers to me, voice so familiar.

Wake up.

"Elle! Wake up!"

My eyes pop open as my body is shaken gently, the soft cries above me and the panicked tone letting me know immediately that wherever I am, it's not good.

As fogginess disappears from my eyes and lingers in my head, I realise that there's a person sitting beside me - eyes wide and full of tears. 

"Kristie!"

Immediately we're in an embrace, our arms latching onto each other with soft sobs and I cling to my best friend like our lives depend on it.

Maybe they do.

"Oh my god, Kristie you're alive!" I cry, relief pouring over me as I hold her tear-stained face in my hands, "I was so worried!"

She doesn't look hurt; apart from the marks of dirt on her face and the red ring around her eyes from crying, other than that she looks the exact same. 

"What are you doing here," she cries, her smile happy but confused. 

"I came to see if they had you but someone hit me over the back of the head and I-"

"You came alone?" 

Her tone of disbelief doesn't get missed and I wave a hand as I let out a strained laugh. 

"Of course not!" I say as though it's obvious and I watch the relief on her features, "Tracey drove and she's waiting outside so-"

"I'm sorry, what?" Kristie says flatly, sitting back on her knees and taking her hands off of me, "Did you say Tracey? As in the Tracey who hates us and has tried to ruin our lives for years? That Tracey?"

Shit.

"I mean...yeah," I wince, trying to put an innocent smile on my face, "she was pretty upset by Andy and she offered and-"

"I seriously go missing for not even a full day and you make friends with Tracey Ryan," she rolls her eyes, "And you trusted her? How do you actually survive without me?"

She had a point.

"Yeah," I frown, "Come to think of it, this definitely could have been a set up."

Kristie snorts, "You think? I heard them talking upstairs and they mentioned that she was heading here, so I think you may have been well and truly fucked over."

That bitch.

"Of course she did," I groan, now beginning to feel the pain in the back of my head, "and my phone is in her car."

"Oh, fantastic," Kristie sighs, sitting down beside me and getting comfortable, her legs stretching out ahead, "I'm not being funny but if you were planning on doing this again, maybe next time bring back up or someone who you can actually trust."

"How could I, you were in here."

She tuts at my comment and nudges me in the side, but we both smile none the less.

"Kiss ass."

I look around the room we're in, realising that of course it isn't a room but more a cell - the bars on one side letting me see out into the corridor that looks as dreary and damp as the rest of the place. Above us, I can hear peoples footsteps and mumbled voices.

"We need to try and get out of here," I say quietly, already moving over to try and see a way out in the light, "We can't stay."

"I know that I seem fine because I've already worked through the panic and confusion and cried it out for a couple of hours and now I think I'm just in numb acceptance," she clears her throat, "But Elle, what the fuck is actually going on?"

I pause in my movements, not really knowing quite what to say to Kristie or how to explain why exactly she was here. It's not as if I truly knew myself. 

I begin to turn around to her, ready to come up with an excuse or explanation but before I can there's a noise from the top of the stairs and a door swings open. 

Kristie and I look at each other with wide eyes as we move to the back of the space, our hands grasping onto one anothers as we hold our breath. 

Goosebumps rise on my arms as the footsteps get louder, the echo of them flooding the hallway and I hold my breath as they move closer. 

Was it Matt?

Their feet hit the last step.

My father?

Their shadow begins to creep over the floor, growing larger and larger.

Carter?

Finally, they stop right in front of us and the light illuminates their face.

"Cam?"

At the sound of my voice his head snaps up, his own relief evident as he shouts my name and runs at the bars, his hands reaching through as I run at him. 

"Thank god you're okay! You've been out for about an hour," he exclaims as soon as his hands' touch mine, "I was beginning to worry."

"I'm alright," I assure, managing to wrap my arms around him as he does the same to me, the bars between us digging into my skin and bones but for the moment I don't care.

He was alright.

"I was more worried about you!" I gasp, pulling myself out his hold and wrapping my fingers around the metal, "What happened, where have you been?"

He opens his mouth to reply, hesitance on his face but I quickly shush him, my eyes darting upstairs. 

"Actually, we can talk about it later," I suggest with a wince, "Can you get us out? If we make a run for it we could probably make it, especially with you they won't be able to..."

It's now that I take in the way he's standing across from me - almost embarrassed, quiet... and completely unharmed. 

"Cam?" I ask, taking a step back, my mind already objecting to the thoughts that are beginning to grow in it, the tickling of realisation making my knees lock and my fingers shake.

He has a stone-like expression on his face - his puppy dog eyes begging me to listen but his jaw gritted like he's struggling to figure out what to say. 

"Elle."

From behind me, Kristie gently takes my hand, her eyes locked on Cam and his shoulders that have bent forward in shame. 

I think of him smiling, laughing with me and telling jokes to stop me crying. I think of him at the beach, joking with Scarlette and chasing after Tom, his arms open wide as he turned to pick me up and throw me in the water. 

My best friend.

No.

"Why aren't you letting us out, Cam?" I ask, a breathlessness to my voice that tells him that I already know, I just need him to say it, "Why are you on the other side of the bars and not in here with us?"

Traitor.

"He's the one that brought me here," Kristie spits, betrayal burning in her features and my mouth stops working, my lungs stop working.

My mind stops working.

This can't be right.

He moves forward, stretching his hand through the gap at me, pleading brows and a quivering lip beg me to listen. 

"Elle, please," his voice croaks, "This isn't about you, I swear. They just want Trent."

What?

"This is about you and this vendetta you have against her boyfriend?" Kristie laughs venomously, "Jesus Cam, you are so pathetic you know that."

His eyes snap away from me and turn to her, a darkness coming over his features as his knuckles turn pale. 

"Stay out of things you don't understand, Kristie," he warns and she lets out a shrill noise in response, her voice getting louder.

"'Stay out of it'," she mocks, "I don't think I really got the choice to do that when you abducted me and drove us here in my own car, you moron." 

Cam sighs. His hands loosen their grip and his head bows down, "I already apologised and told you that wasn't meant to happen."

"Oh right, like an apology is going to cut it right now."

The pieces all fall together one by one, my mind picking up on everything that's happened over the last few days. 

Cam being attacked, needing a place to stay - it was all a set up. He was there to get into the packhouse, he was there to get to Trent, he-

"You were meant to take me, weren't you?" I ask, staring at the top of his head as he hunches over, "That's why Scarlette could smell you, you came to my room to take me but-"

"But you were in his room, that monster," Cam hisses, head slowly rising and now I see the anger in his gaze and the twitch of his forehead, "Kristie was in yours and I panicked, I needed to help you quick after what happened at the beach and I-"

"What do you mean I need help?" I cry, stepping towards him, my words shaking with every emotion that it possibly could - fear, confusion, pain, betryal, sadness.

He would never hurt me, I know that. I have to know that otherwise my entire life would have been a lie, our friendship would have been fake. I just can't let myself believe that he would ever betray me.

"Why are you doing this Cam," I ask, wrapping my hands around his, begging to break through to him, "what do they have over you?"

His eyes turn soft, his hands uncurling from their fists to entangle them with my own. There's a flicker of regret across his features and his mouth opens, ready to speak.

And then clapping from above us begins; slow applause that accompanies every step coming towards us. 

"And there she is, ladies and gentlemen - Annabelle Williams, the girl who thinks her friends can do no wrong."

I shouldn't be shocked that it's him. I already knew that he was involved in this, that he was hurting people and that he could have been here.

But hearing his voice is different. 

It brings back the memories, the pain. 

The remembrance that to him I was property - worthless unless doing something useful. 

It brings back the nights crying.

The hopelessness.

The fear.

Seeing him as he steps around the corner is much worse. 

It makes the memories of him when he was kind flood my mind. 

Warm days in the sun, experiencing the first of everything hand in hand, together.

When it seemed like he cared.

When I thought it was love. 

"Matt." 

The word falls out of my lips, a gasp that's barely audible.

He runs a hand through his hair, the blonde still shining but the length longer now; unkempt, untamed. 

"Hi Princess," he chuckles, his tongue running along his teeth, "You missed me?"

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... I honestly have nothing to say but I apologise and I hate Matt.

Get those votes and comments flying in and I'll probably upload again :)))))) I can't stop writing it's actually concerning but I LOVE IT X

Please don't kill me x