Foolish Games (21 page)

“Shane’s feeling good.” A girl laughed.

The murmuring of conversation got louder around us. Turning to Lizzie, her eyes were wet with tears, so I squeezed her hand to comfort her. It was the first time that I had a moment to think clearly. Pulling out my cell phone, I texted Riley, “Get back to the van, but be careful, the Grimm Reaper is in the parking lot.”

“Riley is in danger,” I whispered. “It won’t be long until Cyrus finds the van.”

“The van is beside a really big, green camper like forty six lanes back from the entrance.” She gulped and nodded along in agreement. “It’s going to stick out eventually.”

My eyebrows raised in astonishment. “You know where the van is?”

“Yeah, weren’t we running towards it?” She looked at me questioningly.

“How do you know how many lanes of cars?”

“I counted them,” she said, like duh.

“That’s pretty resourceful. You should really consider getting a job as one of the venue crew,” I mumbled in awe.

“Hello, that’s why I have Warren so I don’t have to get a job.”

“Oh yeah, what was I thinking?” Rolling my eyes, I heard the group of friends’ loud conversation fade into the distance. The cops had already passed three lanes away and were continuing their search further down the parking lot. Where did Cyrus go? Before I could stop her, Lizzie tilted her head up and I felt my stomach drop with fear.

“The coast is clear.” She smiled down at me.

Slowly, I lifted my head and sighed with relief. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Lizzie and I jumped down from the back of truck. Without even glancing over my shoulder, we ran flat out toward the van. Once we were a safe distance away from the truck and there were more people around us, we slowed down. We felt a little safer in the crowd of exiting people just as the van came into our view. We raced over and whirled around, looking for any sign of Riley as I quickly backpedaled to the door. Colliding into someone tall and strong, I screamed, “AHHH!”

“Joie, it’s me,” Riley explained.

Grabbing at my chest, I turned around to look up at him. “Oh, thank god. You’re safe.”

“So he’s really here?” Riley looked troubled. The blue paint had smeared down his face.

“Yeah, and he’s armed.”

“Can we save the chit-chatting for later?” Lizzie interrupted. “I just want to get the hell out of here,
alive
.”

Lizzie slid back the door and hopped inside the van as I came around the driver’s side. We quickly got situated and I started up the van while scanning the parking lot before pulling out of the space. A few minutes later, we passed through a police barricade without a hitch. Who would have thought that I would be relieved to be back on the highway again?

“Lizzie, you should call Warren.”

“I already am,” she said with a shaky voice.

“Riley, I hope you don’t mind starting our trip to Atlanta a little bit early.”

“No, I think we should stick around.” He smirked, but it didn’t reach his troubled eyes.

“Warren says that he can’t believe it.” Lizzie braced the phone against her chest. “He says that Jeff Monroe is as dependable as they come and that he’s been with the band since the beginning.”

“Who the hell is Jeff Monroe?” I asked. “Our driver went by the name of Cyrus Ripley.”

“Oh, hell,” Riley groaned. “He was your driver?”

We locked eyes with each other and I nodded.

“No, he wasn’t a tall black man,” Lizzie said while slightly frantic by the implications. “I don’t know who the hell he was!”

“No, I don’t want to talk to security!” Lizzie huffed while showing signs of losing it.

“Give me the phone,” I said, holding out my hand.

Lizzie slapped the phone down in my hand. “Hello?”

“How long has this ‘Cyrus’ been chauffeuring you around?” The bodyguard asked me, whose voice I recognized as Woodley’s with his thick New York accent. In the background another frantic, deep voice yelled for someone to contact Jeff Monroe.

“The last three days,” I explained. “I’ve never even met a Jeff Monroe.”

“Do you remember what he looks like?”

“He’s white, about six feet tall, shaved head, a built kind of a man, with a distinct neck tattoo,” I thought back to Cyrus in the Escalade and continued, “of a dark scythe. Tonight was the first time I saw it which made me realize who he was.”

“You think that he was The Grimm Reaper?”

“He held us hostage at gunpoint. I’m pretty certain.”

“I’ll get back to you,” he responded.

“Okay.”

“Thank you, I’ll be in touch.”

“Here’s Warren,” he said before I handed the phone back to Lizzie.

“It’s Warren.”

“Hi, yeah, I’m okay. We’re already heading to Atlanta.” Lizzie tried to sound brave for him. “Yeah, I’ll leave my cell on. Love you too, bye.”

“I got a bad feeling about this Jeff Monroe guy,” I confessed while looking out at the dark highway. “He was supposed to have been driving us around for three whole days now.”

Thinking back to the last three nights, I remembered how Cyrus was always in a hurry to leave the backstage.

“Oh, my god!” It suddenly dawned on me. “The first night, there was coffee spilled all over the front seat.”

“Like a fight broke out?” Riley looked at me in alarm.

“A struggle, maybe?” Thinking back to the night, I whispered, “I don’t know.”

A pang of guilt settled into my stomach for not recognizing Cyrus for the fraud that he was sooner, especially now that someone’s life might depend on it. Why had I never picked up on any of the clues while we were with him? He never spoke to any of the other crew members. Actually, if I thought about it, he was always quick to leave or flash his pass at a distance when leaving the gates. Of course, I did notice the creepy way he stared at Lizzie every time, like she was lunch. The thought alone made me shudder. Lizzie scooted in between the two of our seats, obviously still terrified from the experience. We continued to drive down the darkened highway heading for Atlanta in silence.

Lizzie would start to nod off and then jolt herself awake again. She continued to do this for another hour until she finally caved and went in the back to sleep. I, on the other hand, was traveling like I had downed five red bulls. Nothing could stop me and my need to get as far away from the Bonnaroo Festival as possible.

Continuously, I would look through the rearview mirror while watching to see if anyone was tagging us. If Riley sensed the panic within me, he didn’t talk about it. Apparently, almost getting abducted spoke for itself. It didn’t help that the van’s headlights only illuminated a couple feet in front of us; just enough to make out the yellow dash marks along the highway. The dark shadows seemed to hover around us.

We had driven many miles since Manchester, Tennessee, but I knew what I was truly running away from was a memory I couldn’t shake. It was of a psychopath pursuing us so intensely that I wasn’t sure if one failed attempt would stop him. No matter how many miles I physically put in between us and the horrific night it didn’t feel like enough.

After driving through the mountains with little traffic, which made us stand out too much for my liking, I practically welcomed the rush hour drag in Atlanta. I drove in the middle of the six lanes because it required the least amount of brainwork. We were bumper to bumper, slowing until we came to a complete stop. Releasing my tense grip on the steering wheel, I stretched out my arms and yawned from exhaustion. The jittery feelings of adrenaline were slowly wearing off.

When the traffic picked up again, we made a quick stop to refuel the van at a gas station. Riley, who was still mostly painted blue and had one alien antenna bent back in the wrong direction, offered to drive. As he drove, we discussed our sleeping arrangements. We vowed to never use a Walmart parking lot for sleeping again, but I still had an unsettling feeling that we were not far from danger.

We weren’t planning to stop attending the concerts and I feared that neither was Cyrus.  Lizzie probably still wouldn’t be able to pick him out of a line up, let alone notice if he was three rows back from her. It was terrifying since he seemed very interested in her.

On cue, Lizzie sat up. 

“Morning, sunshine,” I said brightly over my shoulder.

“We’re still on the road?” she croaked.

“We’re almost at our hotel,” Riley informed her while looking out at the packed traffic in front of us. “If we could only just get out and walk.”

Lizzie groaned and threw the sheet off of her. “I’m hungry.”

Passing back a box of donuts and a jug of orange juice, I called out, “Breakfast of champions.”

“I don’t want to get fat,” she muttered and tossed the doughnuts to the side. She had only been asleep for about three hours now so I wasn’t surprised by her less than chipper mood, but I needed for her to listen to me. This just couldn’t wait.     

“Why won’t you give Harrison your social security number?”

“Harrison?” she asked.

“Hawkins’ bodyguard?”

“I can’t remember the number,” she said flatly.

“Ah huh.” Not buying a word of it, I said, “Why is that? You got caught drinking under age?”

“No,
that
I’m proud of.” She laughed. “I don’t remember it, okay?”

“I think I know why.” Riley was hesitant to share.

“Whatever it is,” I reasoned. “It can’t be worse than being unprotected around The Grimm Reaper.”

Lizzie busied herself with twirling off the cap from the jug of orange juice.

“That stint in Juvi?” Riley perked up in his seat as he looked through the rearview mirror at Lizzie. “Stealing, wasn’t it?”

“What part of I don’t want to talk about it, don’t you understand?!” Lizzie shouted, surprising both of us. 

“What…stealing lipstick? Warren isn’t going to care,” I pressed. “But this guy, this stalker, almost got away with abducting us. Who knows what he’s capable of?”

“Am I stuttering?” Lizzie threw her arm out exasperatedly.

“We just don’t get it,” I continued while staring out at the congestion on the highway. Why wouldn’t she want to protect herself by being with Warren for the time being? 

“Grand theft auto, okay!” Lizzie barked. “I’m pretty sure that’s a hell of a lot worse than stealing some cheap lip stick.”

“Didn’t Rocco steal the car?” Riley asked. “Technically, it wasn’t your fault.”

“Explain that to Warren,” she said harshly.

Whispering, I said, “Oh, Lizzie, I didn’t know.”

“My mom didn’t want your mom to know.” Her shoulders slumped over with shame.

“Wait a minute.” I thought about it. “Is that when you said that you were home schooled for mono?”

“Yeah, my mom was ashamed,” she confessed. “So, sorry if I don’t want to give Harington my social.”

“Harrison?”

“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes, but then her face twitched with confusion. “I thought his name was Wayne?”

“It’s just a nickname.” I tried to dismiss it.

“I didn’t know that you were like that with the bodyguards.” Lizzie’s lips curled up into a smirk. “Is that why they give you all that special treatment?”

“What are you talking about?”

“They’re always ushering the other girls away from Hawkins when you’re around.”

“So it has to be the bodyguards, it couldn’t be because Hawkins wants to spend time with me?” I glared back at her through the rearview mirror.

“Whoa, could your head get any bigger?” She widened her eyes dramatically.

“What?!” 

“Okay, girls,” Riley interrupted us. “Retract the claws.”

What the hell,
I’m
the one with the big head? That’s rich, coming from her. I decided to just let her comments go as Riley pulled the van up to the front of The Sheraton Hotel. It was a bit pricier than we usually spent on a hotel, but Riley and I decided that it was safer than the regular Days Inn because of the enclosure of the building. We continued to follow the signs for parking and pulled into the underground garage of the hotel. It didn’t feel safe to leave so much money in the van now that I knew Cyrus could identify it, but I knew that we also shouldn’t have it in the hotel either. Standing outside the van, I tried to decide what to do with the money and the tickets when it hit me.

“Didn’t Cyrus drive us back to the hotel that night after the wardrobe malfunction?” I turned to ask Lizzie who was still fuming.

“I don’t know,” she growled.

“Remember, the doors were unlocked?”

“You think that he broke into our van?” Riley questioned me.

“Yeah, but why? He didn’t take any cash or tickets,” I reminded him.

“Remember we found a pocket knife?” Riley reminded me. “Are you sure it was your dad’s?” 

Chills ran down my spine. Quickly turning around, I went to the side and flung the door open. After jumping in, I proceeded to turn everything upside down and over, even the cot in the back, but I found nothing suspicious.

Riley checked up front while looking for anything unusual, but he was done in less than a couple of minutes. I felt silly and relieved with my hands on my hips when everything seemed in order. I stashed the money and tickets in my navy blue book bag where I also kept my clothes. Hiking it over my shoulder, we headed over to the hotel’s elevator. We hauled ourselves into the elevator and took it up to the hotel lobby.