Song(s) that inspired this chapter: Alive Again by Marianas Trench
Max's P.O.V.
"Raquel? That sounds like a French name." Said Victoria as she followed close behind me. Nosy as ever, after Rachel and Chloe left she was bombarding me with questions.
"Yeah well she comes from a French family." I replied, sighing as I did. I kept answering her questions with great annoyance all the way to my dorm.
"You know, she looks pretty familiar. Don't you think so?" Victoria asked, crossing her arms and cocking her head at me. I turned away from my door to face her. I knew it was a stupid idea to bring Rachel near Blackwell, and now I might have fucking blown it.
"Familiar? I don't think so. I've only met her once, today." I tried to keep a strong face, not let my wavering fear show as I faced Victoria. She was staring me dead in the eyes, as if she was trying to break me.
"Really? She kinda reminds me of Rachel. You know, Amber? I think it's the hair. She kinda dressed similar too."
"Well, I couldn't say. I've never met Rachel, plus she's dead." I said quickly and harshly. Victoria's mouth opened in surprise and she raised her eyebrows. "I'm sorry Victoria, but I have some work to catch up on." And with that I shut my dorm room door and left Victoria standing in the hall, jaw practically resting on the ground.
It was harsh of me to bring up her 'death', especially since Victoria didn't know she was really alive, but I had to do something to throw her off. She obviously had some suspicions, and I wasn't about to let Bitchtoria spoil it all. Yes, I'm back to calling her Bitchtoria.
I sat with my back pressed against the door for a moment, listening to see if she was still there. After a few seconds I could hear her shoes clicking against the floor and walking away. I let out a sigh of relief.
"Is she gone?" A familiar, gruff voice asked. Stepping out from in front of my closet was Frank Bowers, drug dealer of Chloe, former lover of Rachel and the man I almost shot.
"What the fuck?" I whisper yelled, quickly straightening up and dropping my bag to the floor beside me.
Frank stood in the middle of my room, a few feet away from me. He wore a ratty black tee and baggy jeans being held up by a ragged leather belt. He had an open zip up hoodie over top of it and a faded blue baseball cap sat atop his head, covering most of his messy dark blond hair. Brown running shoes (that used to be white) were planted on my floor, and they weren't going anywhere. His eyes were bloodshot and had heavy bags underneath them, giving the appearance that he hadn't slept for days, and that was probably the case.
"Oh cut the shit." He replied, his face masked with anger and annoyance. "You know why I'm here."
Holy fucking shit. He knows about Rachel. How? I need to lie.
"Is it about Chloe owing you money? I keep telling her to pay you back but she never-" I sputtered out nervously but he cut me off.
"Max." He drew out my name, long and slowly. It sent shivers down my spine. Something told me this wasn't a friendly visit. "Don't lie to me. Where is she?"
"Chloe? I don't know where she went, maybe she went to the diner to see Joyce or-"
"Max! Stop lying to me. I don't want to hurt you. Where is Rachel?" He shouted angrily, his face stony and serious.
"Rachel is dead." I said in a hushed whisper, motioning my head towards the door. People could be listening, especially with him yelling. He understood and nodded.
"Call her. Now." He said through gritted teeth.
"I don't have her number." I replied, holding my phone out to him to show my contacts.
"Then call Chloe!" He demanded angrily.
With a shaking hand I dialed her number and held the phone to my ear.
Please pick up, please pick up. Don't leave me with him.
But instead of Chloe answering I was left with her passive aggressive answering machine.
"Hey, it's Chloe. I didn't answer because I'm doing shit or I don't want to fucking talk to you. Either way I don't listen to my messages."
Fuck.
"No answer." I held my phone up to show him. He grabbed it out of my hands, held it to his ear then tossed it on my bed with a scowl.
"Meet me in the RV in five minutes. I parked on the side of the school. Come or I'll find you." Frank said menacingly, then walked out of my room.
x-x-x
Before leaving my dorm I had sent Chloe multiple text messages to be met with no response. I don't know what she was fucking doing but she needed to finish it, quick.
I reached Frank's trailer and knocked on the door nervously. He opened the door and moved aside so I could step in, saying nothing. I reluctantly walked in and was greeted by the smell of dog piss, which was unsurprising because it smelt like that every time I came in here. His dog Pompidou ran up to me from the back and I stuck my hand down for him to sniff. He licked it and I pat his head before joining Frank up front.
"So where are they right now?" He questioned as he turned the key in the ignition to start the vehicle.
"I don't know Frank. They dropped me off at Blackwell around a half an hour ago then left." I answered honestly.
"And she didn't answer you?"
"No."
"Where were you coming from?" He gripped the steering wheel tightly and turned. I don't know if he was taking me somewhere or just aimlessly driving around but it was scaring me.
I hesitated to answer, but it'd be better not to lie, so I told him the truth. "Portland."
He wrinkled his nose in confusion and turned to face me. "What the fuck's in Portland?"
"Nathan Prescott." I said with a gulp, anxiously awaiting his reaction.
"That little shit? How do you know where he is? And why the fuck would you go see him?" He slammed his hand against the steering wheel in anger. I knew he still hadn't forgiven himself for selling the drugs that hurt Rachel to Nathan.
"Chloe and I....we have our ways, we got his address. And we went to see him to get help." I explained, fidgeting in my seat uncomfortably.
"Help? For what. You found Rachel."
"How did you find out about Rachel?" I ignored his question with my own.
"Damon Merrick came to me and told me. 'As a friend' he said." He sighed. "I was going to fucking kill him for coming back here, but then he told me and I let him go. I just need to see her."
"Damon told you? Did he also tell you that he's threatening to expose Rachel if she doesn't run his errands?" My face twisted into a mask of anger, my voice becoming harsher with each word.
Frank turned to face me, his face angered. "He's doing fucking what?" His voice raised.
"Rachel doesn't want people to know she's alive. He found her, and as long as she does what he says he won't tell everyone." I explained, gritting my teeth. This entire situation makes me so angry, to think of him using Rachel like that. She deserves to live her life however she wants.
Suddenly our conversation was interrupted by the ringing of my phone.
"It's her." I said to Frank as I held the phone to my ear. He pulled the RV over and his face looked hopeful.
"Hey." I answered a frantic Chloe on the other end.
"Oh my god Max, where the fuck are you?" Chloe asked worriedly.
"Frank and I are just driving around in his RV. We're fine." I responded, and she sighed with relief.
"Chloe, calm down and give me the phone." I heard Rachel say to her. After a few seconds of bickering, Rachel took the phone.
"Hey Max."
"Hey." I replied.
"What does he want? And how does he know?" Rachel's voice turned sour, annoyed at this inconvenience.
"He wants to see you. And Damon told him." I explained quickly. "Just meet us at the junkyard." And with that I hung up. I turned to Frank who was staring at me expectantly.
"Let's go to the junkyard." I said to Frank, and his solemn face broke into a grin.
a/n: What do you guys think of the story so far? Do you have any predictions? I'd love to hear them!