He’s thought of everything. Every detail. ‘You should’ve warned me.’
‘You’d never have agreed to it. You’ve always needed a push.’ He sighs. ‘I wanted you to have deniability. This way, you’re not necessarily lying to the police about being abducted; you’re just bending the truth about what happened between the abduction and being found.’
He’s so self-assured and measured, every word smooth and authoritative, as though his plan is already a success. His confidence, his belief this is the exact thing I should do, is catching. ‘You’re an incredible writer, Elodie, but that doesn’t matter because the market is all wrong. You think it’s bad now? Agents earn commission. You’re taking up a spot of someone who could be making Lara money. She’s going to drop you if you don’t write something she can sell. You’ve given up everything for this. You need a publishing contract to make it all worth it. This is how you get it.’ He takes me by the shoulders. ‘I believe in you. God, Elodie, you have no idea how far I’ll go to make sure you’re happy. How far will you go, Fray?’
He’s serious. He means every word.
‘We’re done with crazy stunts, Jack. We’re not teenagers anymore.’
‘No, we’re adults. But really, what’s the difference between your life at seventeen and your life now?’
Humiliation and anger bleed across my cheeks. ‘Fuck you, Jack.’ I shrug out of his hands and walk away.
He follows, his long legs easily keeping pace. ‘When your family find out you’ve lied, you’re going to lose them along with everything else. If you do what I’m suggesting, you have everything to gain.’
I slow. The woods seem to shrink around me. This wide-open space feels like a coffin. He’s right. I know he is. I stop. ‘And what about my parents?’
‘It’s a few days of misery for a lifetime career. It’s temporary. They’re not actually going to find your body in a lake.’
‘They’re going to go out of their minds. I can’t do that to them. I won’t.’
‘Your whole life, you’ve felt like the square peg being shoved into the round hole of your family. All they care about is Ada, her house, her husband – everything they can shove under their friends’ noses. They don’t give a shit about you or your ambition because they can’t parade it around.’
It hurts. Slices. He is speaking aloud every one of my deepest insecurities. I feel myself shrinking. Rather than admit he is right, rather than let him see how small and insignificant I am, I lash out, words leaving my mouth like venomous hiccups. ‘Jesus, Jack, not everyone has the same relationship with their family as you had with Jeffrey.’
And I regret it instantly; his confident exterior slips and beneath it is a little boy who has only ever wanted to be loved. But I can’t take back what I said. That’s the thing about words – once they’re out there, they’re no longer just yours. They hang in the quiet and are plucked like cherries from a tree then, bitter or sweet, they’re devoured.
He clears his throat. ‘I know you don’t want to hear this, Elodie, but your family don’t love you the way they love Ada. They just don’t.’ His gaze burns into mine, sad and angry and honest. ‘First born, most loved.’
And the truth bruises something deep inside me. Even so, I can’t do what he’s asking of me. ‘I have to go back.’
‘If you go back now, you’ll destroy your life. My life.’
I shake my head.
‘If you go back now, I’ll be arrested.’
‘No.’
‘False imprisonment, accessory to kidnap.’
‘No,’ I say again, even though I think he might be right.
‘You missed Sunday lunch with your family. They’ve already reported you missing. The police are searching for you. If you go back now and tell the truth, I’ve ruined my life for nothing.’
‘I didn’t ask for this.’
‘But it’s done. I’m trying to help. Trying to give you everything you’ve always wanted. If you go back to Crosshaven today, you’ll have to tell the police the truth and I’ll be arrested. If you reappear in a week or two, we can stick to the story – masked man, shack in the woods, escaped as soon as you could – and I won’t get arrested, and you’ll get a book deal; no one ever needs to know you didn’t have one in the first place, Elodie …’ He looks pained, as though my name is glass-sharp in his throat. ‘Please.’