“We all thought he was just mouthing off—that he’d never go through with actually hurting anyone. Blake always talked trash. We were going to turn him in after the game. I swear it.”
“You’re saying that none of you actually wanted to kill me, but you threw me in a lake and tried to drown me anyway? Fuck off, man.” I start marching back toward campus.
“Huff, Huff, listen to me.” He grabs my arm, and I stop, jerking my appendage free. “There were five other guys in the car besides Blake. Right? I’m telling you not everyone went along with it willingly. Blake threatened to have us all arrested by his brother—the sheriff—if we didn’t do what he said.”
Arrested for what? Wait. No. I don’t care. “You think that matters?”
“No. No.” He lets out a long breath. “I was there, Huff. I swear, we thought Blake was going to scare you. That’s it. The second you went in the water, I dove in, but I couldn’t find you. It was dark. The water’s deep. By the time I came up, maybe twenty seconds later, you were already out, knocking over Blake and Kyle. Then you disappeared with River.”
This guy could be full of shit, but my gut says he’s telling the truth. Doesn’t excuse what happened, though. Not even close.
“Where did you take me?” I ask.
He stares with a confused frown.
“Where did you take me and River the other night?” I repeat.
“Why?”
“I lost something next to the water. I need to look for it.” I don’t want him suspecting anything regarding my transformation. On the other hand, why hasn’t he noticed I look different? The only answer I’ve got is that he never really looked at me. I was nothing to him. Now I can’t be ignored.
“I’ll have to take you,” he says. “The place isn’t on any maps.”
“Then take me. Now.” Or I’ll be sure you join Blake.
He bobs his head remorsefully. “Sure. Whatever you need. No problem.”
I pause to think. “Why are you being so cooperative?”
“The guy you just saved is my brother. Don’t know what I’d do without him.”
And now I get it. “Then let’s go.” Take me to my grave.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
His name is Lyle. His brother is Kyle. They happen to be twins, and Blake told them each he’d go to the sheriff—Blake’s brother—and blame them for kidnapping us if they didn’t go along with the initial phase of actually kidnapping us.
So, according to Lyle, each brother kept his mouth shut and obeyed. Until, of course, they realized Blake wanted to do more than scare us.
Gives a whole new perspective on stuff when you hear it, I guess, but like I said before, the color commentary doesn’t make things right.
“So,” I say as we turn down a dirt road in his brand-new, shiny pickup, “how do you guys know about this place?” We pulled off the freeway and had to take the frontage road to get here.
“I’d prefer not to say.”
“I prefer you do.”
Lyle keeps his intense gaze on the road for a prickly moment. I’m on a razor-thin edge with him. Fucker touched River. Hurt her. Scared her. I suddenly realize I’m this close to beating his face in. The only thing holding me back is that he’s showing remorse and doing what he can to make things right.
“So?” I push.
“Blake’s dealer used to work here,” he finally says.
“In the middle of a swamp?”
“No. This leads to the back lot of a manufacturing site.”
“Don’t tell me they make radioactive products.” I refuse to let my life be altered by tired fiction plots.
“Naw, man. They make supplements. Protein drinks and stuff.”
That somehow sounds way worse than radioactive waste. “So the guy who used to sell Blake his juice worked for a sports drink manufacturer?”
“Yeah, he was some chemist guy—you know, the kind who makes all those fitness supplements for bodybuilders. He left the company and went into business for himself. Vitamins in the front door, steroid injections through the back.”
“So what’s with the water Blake dumped me in?” I ask.
“I dunno. He said his dealer told him about it.”
“Why?”
“Never asked.”
“Which company does the factory belong to?” I wonder if it’s a cover for some covert government lab where they make super soldiers. Yes, another tired fiction plot. I know.
“MJP.”
I want to laugh. Muscle Juice Potion? Here I was thinking my transformation was a miracle from God, but I was probably dumped into some sludge pond for experimental muscle-gain drinks.
“What’s so funny?” Lyle asks.
I shake my head. “Nothing.” Before all this started, River called me out on needing to unpack my mental baggage, and I didn’t listen. I really should have, because I’ve just spent the last two days running around thinking my body’s undergone a massive transformation.
But really?
I’m probably suffering from a form of body dysmorphia, where I look in the mirror and think I’m ripped. In reality, I’ve taken an overdose of workout supplements.