Score (Skin in the Game Book 1) (15 page)

20
Bee

M
isery
.

Pure, unadulterated misery.

That’s all I felt as I trudged inside after another red-letter Thanksgiving at the Mitchell household.

I’d expected I’d feel cruddy when I came back to the empty Kappa house after Thanksgiving dinner. But I hadn’t known I’d feel
this
cruddy.

Damn it, Cal.

Most of my sisters had gone home for the holiday, Flora included, so I collapsed in the darkened gathering room and stared at the blank television screen through tear-blurred eyes for a while, just trying to make sense of what had happened.

I didn’t know why I felt so shell-shocked. I knew this would happen. He was a football player, after all. I’d totally called it. The ache in my throat built as I thought of our time in the clearing on the front seat of his truck. The way he’d taken it upon himself to make me relax, how his tongue had felt on my body, and I shivered with the memory. How had things gone off the rails so badly so soon after?

And it wasn’t just my parents. Them, I was used to. But Cal being there had added a whole new layer of horror to the situation. I’d
warned
him this would happen. I’d told him it was a bad idea to come. Then he’d stuck up for my dad, practically telling me to just accept that my mom should live with that miserable asshole for the rest of her life. I had every right to be pissed off at Cal.

Or did I?

I cringed as I remembered what I’d said. I’d accused him of sleeping with me for the opportunity to meet my dad.

I knew I’d gone too far the second the words left my mouth. The way he’d looked at me when I said that was enough to tear my heart to pieces.

It was that look that told me he probably wouldn’t have an easy time concentrating on tomorrow’s game. What if he couldn’t concentrate because of me?

Great, Bee. Way to heap on the pressure and destroy his life’s purpose.

And for what? Just because I was hurting and wanted to make sure he was as miserable as I was?

Was that the person I’d become? Or had I just expected it to be so terrible that I’d created a self-fulfilling prophecy. After all, he didn’t have to help me relax. He could’ve bailed when I told him what a freak-show my family was. And he was right. He hadn’t done a single damn thing to show me he was anything like my father.

The food in my stomach felt like a lead weight as the reality of what I’d done hit me like a baseball bat. I’d taken this precious, new, amazing thing and had tossed it on the floor and crushed it beneath my heel.

If anyone had behaved like my dad today, it had been me.

I reached for my phone, ready to call Cal. To beg him to forgive me, but then I set it down with a groan. What could I possibly say to make up for what I’d done? Sorry seemed so small. Fact was, maybe everyone else had it right all along. Maybe I wasn’t good enough for him after all.

I managed to haul myself off the couch and slog upstairs, suddenly so exhausted, I could barely stand. I tugged on an old t-shirt and boxers, gathered my toiletry caddy and walked to the empty bathroom to brush my teeth. The house was dead silent but for the creaky floorboards as I walked. Ordinarily that might’ve freaked me out, being all alone in a big, possibly-haunted old house. But today, I didn’t care if any ghosts wanted to screw with me. I deserved it.

Pity party, table for one?

I finished washing up and crawled into bed, doing everything in my power to stop the images replaying in my head over and over. And, just as I expected, lay there staring at the ceiling that seemed like it was imprinted with Cal’s devastated face after I’d accused him of being an asshole who used people.

No doubt about it
. I
was the asshole.

I needed to get dressed and go to his apartment. If sorry wasn’t enough, I’d just have to try something else. Anything to somehow make it right. The game was tomorrow. If I waited until morning, he’d probably spend his whole night tossing and turning either pissed off or just as broken up as I was about the whole thing.

Energized and practically choking on a mix of desperate hope and bitter regret, I flipped the comforter off my body and swung my legs over the side of the bed. My feet had barely touched the floor when the screen of my phone lit up.

A text.

My hands started to shake as I spied Cal’s name.

Meet me outside? Want to talk.

Oh, thank god.

Be right there,
I responded.

My heart pounded as I tossed my phone on the bed and hurried down the hall.
After what I’d said to him, I wouldn’t put it past him if he never wanted to see me again. But now, here he was, hopefully giving me another chance. One that I intended to take full advantage of.

And by taking full advantage, I meant, apologizing until I was blue in the face.

I raced down the dark stairwell, still in my nightclothes, and yanked the door open. Expecting to see Cal waiting on the other side. The porch was empty and I stuck my head out, peering up and down Sorority Row.

It was uncharacteristically deserted.

The sky was dark now and the nighttime chill was seeping in. Goosebumps pricked out on my bare legs as I wrapped my arms around myself and stepped onto the front stoop. I closed the door behind me to keep the heat in and took a couple steps down toward the sidewalk.

“Cal?” I called, teeth chattering. The way we’d left things? No way would that have put him in the mood to prank me. So where the hell was he?

I was just about to head back inside to get my phone and text him when a voice called my name. It sounded like it came from the bushes that framed the stairs and one thing was for sure.

It wasn’t Cal.

The voice was that of a girl, sweet and sing-songy.

I strained to see over the railing into the inky darkness when the voice came again, behind me. I whirled to see a figure stepping out of the shadows, and I bit back a muffled curse of surprise.

I’m dead,
my instincts blared as I flinched, half-expecting to be assaulted by a husky intruder despite the voice.

But the first thing I saw was the white-blonde hair. Pretty features. Nothing intimidating. In fact, as she stepped closer, I realized that I knew her. Not a psychopathic assailant at all.

Just Renee. Cal’s bitchy, sometimes hysterical ex.

I started to sigh with relief when I saw the weird expression on Renee’s face. She was smiling, but not in a happy way.

“Hi, Bee. How’ve you been?” Her tone was shrill as she stepped closer.

“Hey, Renee. Um…Cal’s not here, sooo…” I trailed off, noticing that she had something in her hand.

Before I could process what was happening, she raised her arms high and brought something hard crashing down against my skull.

Screaming pain whistled through my head, and the next thing I knew, the welcome mat was rising up to meet me. My body hit the ground like a bag of sand as my last coherent thought faded to black.

Oh, God, Cal. Please be all right.

S
o cold
.

I knew before I opened my eyes that I wasn’t in bed, with my warm, snuggly comforter. I was curled in fetal position, and couldn’t stop shivering from the icy assault on my bare arms and legs. It felt like I’d slept on a pile of bricks.

I tried to open my eyes, but fireworks of pain ripped through my skull. Something sticky was crusted over the skin of my cheek and a thick, metallic tang coated my throat.

Blood.

Oh, my god.

Memory flooded back in an instant. Renee, walking out of the shadows outside my house. That creepy smile.

She’d hit me with something.

I forced my eyes open and rocketed to a sitting position, fighting against the throbbing pain in my head that sent a wave of nausea washing over me. At the same moment, sharp pain sliced my wrists and I looked down to see them, bound in front of me. Panic threatened to choke me as I struggled to free myself from the ropes tying my hands together but they didn’t budge. The knot was tight. So tight, the fibers were cutting into my skin. I tried to stand when I realized with dawning dread that my ankles were bound, too.

This isn’t happening. This is just a bad dream
.

But the throbbing in my head and the pain in literally every muscle of my body told me otherwise.

I opened my mouth to scream for help when I spotted a motionless Renee out of the corner of my eye. She was standing there, surrounded by rows and rows of packaged meats, blocks of cheese and cartons of milk. I’d never been inside one before, but I was pretty sure I knew where I was. An industrial-sized refrigerator.

She grinned at me in that same, sadistic way she had right before she’d bashed me in the head and I swallowed back a rush of bile.

“Wh-what are you doing?” I croaked, pulling my knees up to my chest in an effort to get warmer. I was only wearing boxers and a thin t-shirt. The skin on my thighs was already purple and dotted with goosebumps. “Where are we?”

“This place?” She pulled her parka tighter over her shoulders and touched the door handle. “In the bowels of Bedford Commons.”

Bedford was one of the smaller dining halls at the school just half a block from Sorority Row.

“I work here,” she said conversationally, twirling a ring of keys on her gloved finger. “They close down for the holiday weekend so it seemed like the perfect place.”

I swallowed hard as the realization hit me
.

Holiday.

Thanksgiving. The memory of Cal flashed through my mind. Us, together in the car. That was Thursday night. How long had I been in here? It felt like minutes, but the cold was so bone-deep, it must’ve been hours.

“If you had stayed away from him, I wouldn’t have had to do this, you know,” she murmured, raising her brow at me in consternation. “With a little time alone with him after the game tonight, this will all be fixed. I’ll be the one there to celebrate with him when he wins. I’ll be the one to comfort him when you don’t show. Then he’ll realize. He’ll finally understand what I’ve known all along. We’re soulmates.”

The sheer joy on her face clued me in to the level of crazy I was dealing with, because she clearly believed every word she was saying.

“And what are you going to do with me?”

She shrugged and examined her gloves for lint. “I’ll let you out once Cal comes to his senses. And if you promise not to tell anyone what I’ve done, I will let you live the rest of your life in peace.”

Dread pooled in the pit of my stomach as understanding dawned on me. She was going to leave me here. In a refrigerator.

“Wait,” I blurted, as she pulled open the door with a pop of suction. My teeth chattered uncontrollably. “You can’t just leave me here until then.”

She swung the heavy door back and forth and laughed. “Oh, yes, I can.”

“I’ll freeze to death, Renee.” I tried not to let the panic consume me as I spoke. “That’s murder.”

She narrowed her eyes and planted her hands on her hips. “You ugly little bitch. This is just your attempt to get me to let you out so you can stand between me and Cal again. Not going to work.”

I shook my head, and as I did, I felt something warm trickle down to my chin. It fell into the small cavern between my chest and my drawn-up legs, then continued to slide down my pale thigh. Fresh blood had started flowing again.

I blinked, my vision blurring as a sudden wash of dizziness came over me. I needed to keep it together. Needed to convince her not to go through with it, before it was too late. “It’s not true,” I said, pleading. “Cal and I are just friends.”

She scoffed, obviously not buying it.

If she left now, no one would even know I was missing until tomorrow night at best. Cal would be at the stadium all day. Eyes on the prize, on the thing he wanted most in this world. The big game. And stupid me? I’d told him I wasn’t sure if I would be there, so he wouldn’t even know to look for me.

And all the while, I’d be slowly freezing to death.

“Renee, please. Don’t do this!”

“Chill out,” she said with a light giggle. “Get it? Chill out? It’s not a freezer, it’s just a cooler. You’ll be fine. See you in a day or two. And enjoy the fine selection of foods while you wait.”

My heart thrummed wildly against my ribcage as she stepped out of the walk-in. “You’ll ruin your whole future. You’ll get caught and go to prison and—”

She ignored me and began closing the door.

Oh, god, oh god.
I drew the cold air into my lungs and let out a scream for help. A second later, the door closed. I heard the suction, the sound of the lock being turned as if in slow motion.

And then I was alone.

For a long moment, I couldn’t digest that it was really happening. I stared at the door and wondered if it was all a dream. Until I saw the frantic white puffs of air coming from my mouth. The sight galvanized me into action.

I had no time to waste. My body temperature was already dangerously low. I tried to drag myself to my feet, first rolling onto my forearms and knees. I rested there for what seemed like forever, unable to summon the strength to go further. So very cold. It was only when the icy metal floor numbed my elbows and knees that I came to my senses again and wiggled toward the door, like a lame caterpillar, leaving a trail of blood behind me on the ground. The red streak instantly turned from crimson to near-black in the cold.

I tilted my chin up, ready to try again, but the door seemed to have moved a thousand miles away. And what would I do when I got to it?

I dipped my head toward the floor. My brain felt slow and languid, even the panic cooling into a grim acceptance.

Cal.

I couldn’t give up. Not yet.

I kicked my legs, contorting my body with all my strength. I ripped at the bindings on my wrists with my teeth. I wriggled my hands, but the ropes didn’t loosen at all. For what felt like hours, I wrestled with my bindings until my body was so exhausted, I collapsed into a heap.

Well, Renee, you may have failed Interpersonal Relations this semester, and you’re dumb as a rock, but you get an A in Intro to Kidnapping.

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