Chapter 21

21

MINA

The Past

May 26 th , 1:45 a.m.

I woke in a dark room, on the floor, and not entirely in control of all of my faculties—and the first thing I did was check for Ella, throwing an arm out to the last place I'd seen her at my side.

She wasn't there; all I felt was the stickiness of my own vomit.

I sat up slowly, panting, the taste of my puke still on my tongue—had I barfed enough up to stop from ingesting what they'd spiked me with? I'd only had that one glug on the dance floor—and— where was Ella?

I only barely stopped myself from calling out for her, but I knew I couldn't let them know I was awake.

My last memory of Trent flashed in my mind like a shiny penny falling into a dark pond.

If I wasn't his girl, then what was Ella to him?

Fuck!

I dragged myself up the frame of the bed that Trent had eaten me out on.

It was my fault Ella was here.

But where was she?

I knew where the door was, because I could see light leaking around its edges, so I staggered that direction. I tried the handle ever so slowly—but it was locked, this time from the outside.

Where else could I go?

I tried to remember the layout of the furniture on the far side of the room, and walked over there with all the care I could manage— not much —before stubbing a toe on what was, I realized after I patted it down, probably an end table.

But behind it and other furniture, I could make out a window in the wall, letting a little bit of moonlight in.

I grabbed hold of the end table and pulled, wincing as it scraped against the wooden floor. That got me a little closer—and my shins helped me find a chair as I patted the air in front of me.

I moved it, and then another, and another, and crawled up onto a low dresser, to open the window and look outside.

The chilly night air helped wake me up at once. I was still dizzy if I moved too fast, and my stomach wasn't sure if its remaining contents wanted to come up or not, but my ability to think was clearing.

Which meant that as soon as I looked around, I realized that jumping two stories down to rescue my friend was an incredibly bad idea .

I pushed my head further out the window though, taking big gulps of fresh air, praying that it would make me smarter—when I turned and saw a trellis covered in heavy ivy to my right.

Was it as old as the rest of the cabin seemed to be and made of the same heavy wood?

Or was it a Home Depot special, likely to peel off the wall and kill me when it fell?

There was only one way to find out. I took off my heels, put their straps in my teeth, reached for it and I?—