CHAPTER 1 - THE DIAMOND

Chapter 1 PART 1

...The Diamond...

Smell. The first of my senses to trickle in. I wish it were anything else

because I'm instantly overwhelmed by the scent of body odor, spiced

cologne, and what can only be described as the stench of evil incarnate.

And then my sixth sense seeps in, whispering notes of warning and

urgency.

I’m in danger.

Those notes turn into a song full of screeching and loud noises, filling my

body with heart-wrenching panic. Adrenaline spikes, and just barely do I

have enough sense to remain as quiet as possible.

Slowly cracking open my crusted eyes, I’m greeted by complete darkness.

It takes a second to process that there’s a blindfold strapped around my head.

Then, the blissful numbness I awoke in crumbles, and I lose my breath

when all-consuming pain filters in, engulfing my body in absolute agony.

God, is this what being alive feels like? It can’t be death. I’d be at peace if

it were. And I may have fallen for a stalker, but I’ll be damned if I didn’t land

a spot within heaven’s gates.

I fucking earned that shit.

Racking my brain, I try to think past the pain and remember what the fuck

happened to me. Vaguely, I recall text messages from Daya asking me to

come over. The urgency I felt when she wasn’t answering my calls. Getting

in my car, headlights, and panicking, being jerked forward, and then nothing.

And now I’m here… wherever that is. But not somewhere safe.

Christ, was that even Daya texting me? Did something happen to her too?

That possibility sends another wave of panic crashing through me.

Scenarios curtail and evolve until I’m a mass of anxiety and desperation. She

could be hurt or in serious trouble.

Fuck—I’m hurt and in seriouspp trouble, and I’ve no idea how the fuck I’m

going to get out of it.

My breathing is escalating further, and my heart is beating so heavily, it

physically hurts as it slams against my chest. It takes what little strength.

I have left to keep silent.

Where the fuck am I?

Where's Zade?

Quiet, dull voices are next, muffled by the noise in my ears but steadily

growing louder. I strain my ears, trying to hear over the beat of my heart and

the pain swelling in my body like a water balloon.

Somehow the agony has a voice too, and it’s fucking loud.

“Z will be looking for her,” one man says quietly. “But we’ll be fine once

we get to Garrison’s and chuck the van. We’ll get her there quickly.”

A particular memory knocks me over the head, flashes of being dragged

out of my car and the residual pain of glass and metal biting through my skin.

It explains why my back is on fire.

I’ve been fucking kidnapped—obviously. This had to have been the

Society’s doing. Zade had said they targeted me, and I know he had guards

stationed outside of Parsons Manor. They must have used Daya to draw me

out, which means there’s a high chance she’s been taken, too.

Fuck, I’m an idiot.

I didn’t even stop to consider it could be a trap when Daya wasn’t

answering the phone. I was so intent on getting to her in case she was hurt or

in trouble that it wasn’t even a consideration to call Zade. Not only could it

have saved me, but it also could have saved Daya, too.

I squeeze my eyes shut as a sob crawls up my throat. A tear slips through

my lashes, and my chest shakes with exertion, trying not to break down. This

was my own damn fault.

Zade warned me countless times they were after me, and the first trap they

set, I walked right into.

You’re such an idiot, Addie. Such a fucking idiot.

“You actually think we'll be able to hide her from him? It’s fucking Z,

man,” another man responds, this one with a slight Hispanic accent.

“We’re just giving the Society what they asked for. Which one are you

More afraid of? Then or Z?”

Fuck, it was the goddamn Society. I knew it, but hearing it confirmed only

sends a fresh dose of adrenaline into my system.

I don’t know why I got tossed into this shit, but they need to take me out

of this fucked-up salad of depravity; I don’t belong here. I belong in a salad

full of fruits and vegetables.

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