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Rolls and rolls of gray duct tape. A dozen, maybe more.

Chuck groaned inwardly.

The situation was already seventy-seven shades of fucked-up, but the prospect of being restrained made it so much worse. He would be helpless, incapable of fighting or resisting. Maybe he should try one more desperate run to freedom while his hands and legs were still free.

Missy must have sensed his thoughts.

She got up and came over to him in two quick, long strides. The gun barrel was right in his face this time and he instinctively cringed away from it. “You’re not going anywhere, fuck-o.”

Chuck felt like crying, but somehow the tears wouldn’t come.

He was becoming numb inside.

Rob and the girls scooped up rolls of duct tape and set about the task of taping the four of them to the chairs. Rob started with Chuck, pulling his wrists together behind the back of the chair and then winding more than a dozen layers of tape around them. The son of a bitch was very thorough. Chuck tested the tape. There was no give at all. Maybe he wasn’t into this, but it was clear he would do whatever Missy wanted. Chuck felt that little flicker of hope snuff out as Rob used a full roll of tape to secure each of his legs to the chair legs.

Yes. Very, very thorough.

Just like a concentration-camp guard.

Chuck looked at Emily and frowned. They hadn’t dealt with her yet. She didn’t seem afraid anymore. In fact, she was smirking and her eyes gleamed with that same mad glee he’d seen in the younger girl’s eyes.

“Emily-”

She came at him fast and whipped a hand across his face. It was a hard blow and it snapped his head hard to the right. A bright flash of pain set his cheek ablaze with pain, but that was a minor thing compared to what he felt when her arm swung back around and she backhanded him, her knuckles mashing a nose still tender from the beating he’d received earlier in the week. A spike of agony slammed through the center of his head. She slapped and backhanded him several more times. Through it all, he was dimly aware of the confused and startled voices of his friends. Even Joe wanted to know what the hell was wrong with her.

Emily stopped hitting him and seized a handful of his hair to hold his head steady. His face throbbed and he stared at her through eyes bleary with tears. She spat in his face. “My hand hurts.”

He coughed and blinked at her. “Wh-what?”

She was smirking again. “My hand hurts, you fucking asshole. But it’s totally worth it. I can’t wait to see what Missy does to you.”

“You…know her?”

“Obviously. Now I have a question for you. Where’s Zoe?”

Missy had been standing back, watching the scene with an expression of mild amusement. Now she frowned. “Who’s Zoe?”

Emily let go of Chuck’s hair and turned toward her. “She’s Chuck’s girlfriend. Remember the hot blonde with us at Starbuck’s?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s Zoe.”

Missy’s frown deepened. “We need to find her.”

The bald girl moved closer to Missy. “We’ve checked all the rooms. All empty.”

Emily looked at Chuck and smiled. “She must be down at the beach. I’ll go get her.”

Chuck bucked against his bonds. “You bitch! You backstabbing cunt!”

The bald girl offered Emily a big hunting knife crusted with flecks of what had to be dried blood. “Here, take this.”

Emily smiled again and waved off the offer. “Won’t need it.” She shot another leering smile Chuck’s way. “Zoe’s not happy with me right now, but deep down, she loves me. She really does. And there’s nothing I can’t talk her into when I put my mind to it. She’ll come back with me hand in hand, never guessing anything’s wrong.”

Missy nodded. “So go. But make it fast. I’m itching to get started.”

Emily winked at Chuck and departed without another word. Chuck’s eyes tracked her across the room and out the shattered door, his soul seething with hatred unlike anything he’d ever experienced. He wanted to scream out a warning, but knew Zoe would never hear it over the wind and the sounds of the ocean. And he didn’t want to exhaust his strength by exercising his lungs. He would need every ounce he could spare for the ordeal ahead.

He couldn’t wrap his mind around what Emily was doing. She was a mean bitch, sure, but there were a lot of those in the world, just as there were a lot of mean, cold-hearted bastards. But there was a huge chasm between this and just being mean.

This was betrayal on a level beyond his comprehension.

It wasn’t human.

It was…evil. Yes, evil. It was a strange thing to think, but it was true. There was a devil living in that girl’s heart. She’d surrendered her soul to darkness.

He thought about the things she’d said about Zoe and wanted to weep.

Because he knew they were all true.

A dark figure came striding down the beach toward her as Zoe emerged dripping wet from the ocean. She wiped salt water from her eyes and smoothed her hair back, which fell in a thick, wet sheet across her shoulders. It was too dark to discern the figure’s identity from this distance, but instinct told her it was Emily. A surge of anxiety swept through her as she slogged through the wet sand toward the row of canvas chairs where she’d left her things. She gathered up her beach towel and wrapped it around her waist like a sarong. She glanced up as she stuffed a hardback novel into her tote bag and was unsurprised to find her hunch verified.

Emily had closed to within ten yards.

She smiled as Zoe’s eyes locked with her. “Hi.”

Zoe didn’t return the smile. She didn’t want to talk to Emily. Not right now. She didn’t want to start bawling. But she couldn’t just ignore her and walk on by. Well, she could, but it didn’t feel right. “I was just about to go back inside.”

Emily’s smile faltered slightly. “You mind if I at least walk back with you?”

Zoe suppressed a groan. “I don’t know, Emily.”

Emily came closer, stopping just a few feet in front of her. “Look, I know this has been a rough week. Nobody’s happy with me. Not even Joe, believe it or not. But you’re the only one who matters, Zoe.” Her voice became thick with emotion. She sounded on the verge of tears. It made Zoe feel bad. “You…you’re my best friend. My only real friend. Please just let me walk with you and say a few things. We don’t have to have a real talk until you’re ready.” A single tear traced a slow trail down one of her cheeks. “Would that be okay? Please?”

Zoe felt her heart begin to melt. And though it went against her better judgment in light of all that had happened, she found herself unable to deny Emily’s request. She really was her best friend. Still. Even now. Accepting this frightened her because she had no idea how things would shake out in the end. There were her other friends to consider. They all hated Emily. It wasn’t fair. She was an adult. Shouldn’t she be able to choose her own friends? She sighed. “Okay. But-”

She gasped as Emily grabbed her and pulled her close. Emily kissed her. Her tongue slid between her lips and tangled with Zoe’s tongue. Zoe braced her hands on Emily’s shoulders and tried to push her away, but Emily tightened her embrace and kept kissing her. The towel came loose and slid to the ground. Zoe tried to wrench her head away, breaking the kiss for the slightest moment before Emily’s mouth found hers again. This time she kissed back.

Jesus fuck, what am I doing?

She braced her hands on Emily’s shoulders again and shoved with all her strength. This time the embrace was broken and Emily staggered back several steps. The strange thing was, she didn’t look pissed. She was still smiling. She licked her lips. “You always taste so sweet.”

Zoe scooped up her towel again, grabbed her tote bag, and gave Emily a wide berth as she started up the beach toward the house.