Beastly (The Ever After Collection) (20 page)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Emma didn't know how many hours passed as she alternatively sat and felt sorry for herself and painstakingly searched the dark for anything she thought could somehow be used to aid her in breaking out of the prop room. At some point she pried a piece of splintered wood from a portion of a stage setting and made an effort to somehow use it to dislodge the door’s bolted lock. Then she tried the same thing with a thin branch she’d plucked from a plastic plant. Much like the script she’d attempted to pick the lock with the day before, however, both makeshift tools proved to be utterly useless.

As Emma searched the room for what had to have been the seventh time since she’d woken up that morning – she
assumed
it had been morning – her mind couldn't help but to drift to her father. Her friends.
Heath.

Emma wondered if they had realized she was missing yet. It was hard to say with Gunther in possession of her cell phone. She knew her father would practically drown in guilt when he was told she’d been locked in a dark, musty room for hours on end with no food or water while he’d obliviously gone about his routine. She imagined her friends would feel awful too when they realized that she’d gotten into the jam in the first place because she’d attempted to fend off Lulu for them. As for Heath, well…

As silly to be worried about as it was – considering her circumstances, anyway – Emma fretted about all the horrible things Gunther could be texting him from her phone, pretending to be her.

Heath, it’s Emma. We’re over.

After thinking about it, I decided I’d rather go to prom with Gunther, a real man.

Like I would ever actually tie myself down to a worthless sack of shit like you.

The possibilities drove her mad. And simultaneously broke her heart. Emma imagined all the potential ways Heath could react. While she hoped that he would know somewhere deep inside that she would never think those things (let alone
say
them), with his abuse-filled background, she couldn't say for sure.

Even worse than all the imagined insults she pictured Gunther slinging at Heath, Emma feared that Gunther might get it in his head to use her phone to lure Heath somewhere and jump him.
Hurt
him.

The very thought of it made her stomach churn.

It also gave her the motivation to keep going. To keep searching the prop room for
anything
of use when she felt like giving up.

Emma was limping over to the right side of the room, intent on pulling out the pockets of the costumes that she’d already blindly examined once when she tripped over a trunk she had to have dug through about half a dozen times. The trunk’s contents spilled out onto the floor and a distinct
clang
had her stopping in her tracks. It sounded like something metal had collided with the cement floor. Something
useful.

Slowly lowering herself to her hands and knees in order to avoid jarring her injured ankle, Emma crawled across the floor, exploring it with her hands as she searched for what had made the noise. Her hand passed over what felt like a handle of sorts. She grabbed it and pulled it to her face, examining what she’d found.

A screwdriver.

Someone must have brought in some tools to fix the set at one point and had left at least this one behind.

Emma fingered the sharp end of the screwdriver, an idea coming to her so suddenly that she forgot about the throbbing of her ankle and nearly re-twisted the limb as she hurriedly climbed to her feet and rushed to the door. While the tool might have been small enough to fit through the crack of the door and wall, dislodging the bolted lock was no longer what Emma had in mind.

Not caring in the least that she was destroying what was technically school property, Emma pulled the screwdriver back and stabbed it through the door, right near the lock.

It was easier to jam the sharpened metal through the wood than Emma had though it would be. (The inside of the door was hollow.) It
was
a bit trickier to pull the screwdriver back out of the wood, but Emma managed. Not wasting any time, she stabbed it through the door again and again until a semi-circle of punctures surrounded the lock. Emma used the screwdriver to chisel away at the wood until that semi-circle was nearly wholly separate from the rest of the door. Then, after twisting the knob, Emma closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and threw her shoulder into the door.

The holey wood splintered the rest of the way and, leaving the chuck that surrounded the lock behind, the door opened.

Emma nearly choked in relief.

Stumbling out into the hallway, she braced her hands against the wall and took a moment to orientate herself. Then, shoving the screwdriver in her back pocket and moving as fast as her injured ankle allowed, she hurried down the hallway and up the small set of stairs that led away from the room she’d been stuck in for…

Emma’s thoughts came to an abrupt halt, her body freezing as well, when she recognized the faint noise of what sounded like rap music at the top of the stairs. If Emma strained her ears hard enough she could tell it was originating from the opposite side of the school, in the direction of the gym.

She had been stuck in the prop room for over 24 hours.

Prom was already underway.

Limping forward, Emma’s entire being jolted when she was nearly blinded by the sudden brightness being projected upon her from the ceiling.

Stupid motion sensitive lights.

Her eyes had grown used to the dark during her time stuck in the pitch-black room. Emma blinked back involuntary tears as her pupils contracted into tiny dots as they were forced to take in the unexpected light. Then, steadfastly ignoring the brightness and the way it made her eyes tear, Emma resolutely pushed forward, intent on making her way to the gym.

The music got louder and louder the closer she got, and a few minutes later Emma was there. Standing in the hallway on the outskirts of the gym that was bustling with activity, however, she was debating her hasty decision to head there instead of going directly home. (Not that she really could without her backpack. It contained the keys to her truck.)

It wasn’t even the fact that she knew she looked like she had lost a boxing match with Mike Tyson that caused her hesitation.

What if Gunther was in there?
She hated to admit it, but the thought sent a spike of fear down her spine.

But what if Heath was in there?

Emma was waffling in indecision when she happened to spot her friends. Collette and Luca were huddled together in the northwest corner of the gym, the one closest to her. Collette looked magnificent in a burnt orange gown that sparkled in the multitude of lights that lined the gym. Luca looked dashing as well, dressed in a white tuxedo and matching orange tie. Despite how closely they stood, however, they weren’t dancing. They seemed concerned with something else entirely, Collette throwing her arms around in abandon while Luca wore a pinched expression.

Then, thank whatever deity was watching over her, Collette glanced in Emma’s direction. She didn’t think the redhead saw her at first, but then her friend performed an impressive double take, her head nearly swiveling off her shoulders as she turned back around to look at her. Collette’s eyes widened as they took in her appearance. She smacked Luca on the shoulder and pointed in Emma’s direction before starting to drag him over by the sleeve of his tux. His eyes widened, too, upon seeing her.

Emma wondered if she truly looked
that
gruesome or her friends were just shocked by the fact that in exception of her underwear and jeans, she was only clothed in a nearly see-through white camisole. Emma had realized she’d forgotten her shirt in the prop room about halfway to the gym, but wasn’t about to turn back around for it on her injured ankle. Plus, she never wanted to see the inside of that dusty little space ever again.

“Where in the hell have you…?” Collette began laminating loudly before coming to an abrupt stop, voice suddenly lost, when she reached Emma.

Then again, maybe her friends hadn’t had time to process her appearance yet.

“Oh my God,” Collette whispered, her hands lingering above the right side of Emma’s face. She was glad the girl had the sense not to touch her swollen cheek. “What happened?” she demanded.

Luca hovered worriedly by her side. “Are you hurt anywhere else? We should get you to a hospital.”

“No,” Emma protested immediately, shocking even herself by how defensive she sounded. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

It wasn’t.
She
wasn’t.

“What happened?” Collette demanded again, looking torn between ripping Emma a new one for batting down her boyfriend’s admittedly rational suggestion and hovering over her like a mother hen, doling out Band-Aids and hugs. “We’ve been worried sick about you. We were about to form a search party. And now you show up like this?” Collette frowned, looking pained. “Tell us what happened before we’re forced to come to our own conclusions.” She gestured at Emma’s face. “I mean, what are we supposed to think?”

Emma swallowed. “You’ve been looking for me?”

Her friends looked suddenly guilty, neither of them quite meeting her gaze. “We were
about
to form a search party,” Luca repeated Collette’s earlier words.

“We didn't know you were missing,” Collette said, the words spilling out of her mouth like a shameful confession. “Not until an hour ago at least. We were confused when you and Heath didn’t show up to the dance, but when we texted you, you just said you were sick. But then Heath
did
show up. He was a wreck, Emma,” Collette intoned seriously. “Not wearing a tux or suit or anything, just a pair of jeans and a holey t-shirt. He kept pulling at his hair. He was so agitated; I’ve never seen him like that before.”

“Then what happened?” Emma asked fearfully.

“What do you think? He confronted us, asked us if we knew where you were. We said no, that you’d texted us and claimed to be sick. Then he started going on how you weren’t at home and that he’d seen your truck in the school parking lot when he drove by,” she paused, her brow furrowing. “He showed us what you texted him, Emma.”

Emma’s bottom lip wobbled. “What was it?”

The wrinkles on Collette’s forehead smoothed over as realization dawned. “You didn’t text him anything, did you?” she asked.

“No.”

“Then it doesn’t matter what it said,” Luca swiftly interjected. He placed a careful hand on each of Emma’s shoulders. “Now, tell us what happened. Where have you been?”

Emma licked her dry lips. “I’ve been trapped in the prop room since y-yesterday,” she explained, stumbling over the words. Her tongue felt suddenly too large for her mouth. “When Lulu sent me down there…” Emma paused, admiring Collette’s impressive glower at the mention of the girl’s name. “Gunther followed me.”

Both of her friends stiffened.

“And what did Gunther do?” Luca asked carefully.

“He basically demanded that I go to prom with him,” Emma said, but she wasn’t up to explaining what
else
had happened just yet so she gestured vaguely at her face. “He wasn’t too happy when I said no.”

“Gunther did this to you?” Collette clarified, looking distraught.

Emma nodded. “Yeah. And then he took my phone and pretty much locked me away.”

Luca looked perhaps the most furious Emma had ever seen her usually easy-going friend. His cheeks were tinged red and his eyebrows were crumpled together in an overwrought scowl.

Collette looked pissed too. “I’m going to kill him,” she declared seriously.

Luca laid a placating hand on her shoulder. “Not if Heath does first,” he declared ominously.

They exchanged worried glances.

Emma frowned. “What?” she demanded, looking back and forth between their troubled expressions. “What does
that mean?” she asked again when neither immediately answered.

Collette sighed. “Heath tried calling your phone when he was here. I guess he saw Gunther look at his cell at the same time or something.” She paused, cringing. “He lost it and attacked him in front of everyone, demanding to know what he’d done to you. His actions make sense
now
, of course, but at the time, they
both
looked crazed. We didn't know what to think. I mean, Emma, Heath had Gunther laid out, his hands wrapped around neck, choking him. I really thought he was going to kill him.” She gingerly touched her throat at the memory before shaking her head. “Anyway, they were both kicked out about fifteen minutes ago for fighting.”

“And where is he now?”

“Gunther?” Luca inquired uncomprehendingly.

“No, Heath!” Emma snapped.

They both shrugged. “We don’t know,” Collette admitted.

“I’ve got to find him.”

“Emma, wait! Don’t-”

“You need to go to the hospital!”

Emma ignored her friends and limped as fast as she could to the nearest exit. She felt a few stares on the back of her head and heard a couple shocked gasps. She knew she must have been seen by at least a handful of her classmates, but Emma hardly cared. Her thoughts were focused entirely on Heath.