chapter twenty-five
bonnie and clyde
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Tragedy does not create heroes, it forges broken children with cracked skin and holes in their hearts. Izzy Windsor learned that the hard way. She learned that the way no child should have to; the way that almost seems too tragic to experience in real life, because really most people, especially people like her, only experienced that type of hard shit in the movies. Even then the rich and pretty (because let's face it, the glamorized version of Izzy Windsor was just that) would be amongst the fortunate ones. But movies weren't always two-hour-long shit-shows to escape reality. Sometimes the tragedies that happened in the cinema happened in real life, too. Izzy just so happened to be one of the unlucky ones to have the Hollywood movie experience without looking through rose-colored glasses.
Because of that, she always felt like she was carrying the world on her shoulders, struggling to keep all her little tragedies contained. It had always been too much for her. Too many problems, too many heartbreaks, too many tears, too many fatherly stab wounds to heal. Maybe she was too much, too. Too many emotions, too many mood swings, too much anger.
She had always been too much, and she had always known that, too. She was sure other people saw that too. She was sure they thought she was too much, too, so they didn't even try to know all of her. They only knew the parts of her that they liked, and when she did anything to counter that image they had in their heads, they were shocked. She did well to remember that was how they would always view her, but she understood it all because the thing was: Izzy Windsor wasn't meant to be understood, she was meant to understand. That was just how some things went . . . at least for her.
Tragedy had made her this way. She knew how dramatic that sounded, but you don't just lose your mom and come out without any burdens to bear. That shit just didn't happen. Maybe it could have happened in the movies, but Izzy's life wasn't a fucking movie, and tragedy hadn't made her a hero, it had made her too much. Like a glass filled to the brim with water, Izzy had the tendency to spill over the edge a few too many times. And as she hopped over the stone wall and her feet planted on the Camerons' backyard lawn, her emotions spilled over, reminding her of all the anger which poisoned her veins. It was too much.
If she peered over her shoulder she could still see the top of JJ's head. She could still go back and get herself to calm down. Surely, JJ would help her, but she couldn't. She knew she had to do something to get Sarah out of the house in order to not only save her from the men of the household but to get her to clear John B's name. Kiara wouldn't be able to get to Sarah from the outside. Ward always kept the windows locked after that one time last year when Izzy and Sarah snuck out of the Cameron house through Sarah's bedroom window. And if Ward were the man she knew and Sarah was on their side (which she knew she was, because, like, she knew Sarah Cameron) then Ward might have locked Sarah in her room as well and taken her phone. But no matter what, the point was that they needed to get to Sarah somehow. Talking to her through a glass window wouldn't help anything if she was locked in her room. Izzy felt like she were the only one who recognized that.
Anyway, the others couldn't make it inside without setting off alarms in the Camerons' heads. But Izzy could. She knew that. And if she did it well, then everything could go back to normal. It was all in her hands now. No, that didn't make her a hero because, really, she wasn't one and she didn't want to be. This was just something she had to do, hero or not.
Her thoughts alone were enough to give her a push, and soon, Izzy began making her way across the lawn and heading toward the front door. The Cameron manor was alive. Light consumed the area, illuminating a path to the front door. Izzy saw her destination clear as day. She only hoped that no one was looking out the window at that given moment. She couldn't let herself get caught running across their lawn. Her true motives would be revealed then. So, she stuck to the perimeter of the lot where the shadows consumed her figure. She continued walking, and as she walked, she caught sight of Pope lingering by a tree with his eyes sealed shut as he whispered something to himself. He must have been waiting on Kiara (considering she was nowhere in sight) or maybe having a mental breakdown. . . Izzy couldn't really tell if she was being honest.
She took that as her sign to take her plan a step further. Her eyes scanned the area and she caught sight of the back patio door slightly opened, signifying that someone had left it open in a hurry. She assumed Pope must have done something to draw attention to himself in order for Kiara to have enough time to show Sarah what her, quote-on-quote, noble father had been saying about John B. That was the plan after all.
Once she was sure no one was coming outside, Izzy booked it. She jogged toward Pope and reached for him. "Pope," she whispered as she placed a hand on his shoulder to grab his attention.
At her touch, the Heyward boy jumped slightly. His eyes snapped open in shock as he inhaled sharply. Recognition flashed in his eyes when he registered it was none other than Izzy Windsor standing in front of him. Only then did he relax (although it was impossible to tell if the boy's nerves could ever be calmed in the state he was in). "Jesus, Izzy, you scared me," he breathed in relief as he touched a hand to his chest.
Izzy shoved off his reaction. "Kie with Sarah?" she questioned. She knew she was being blunt, but she couldn't think clearly at the moment. It was too much.
Pope nodded. His eyes dimmed at the mention of Kiara's name and his shoulders drooped a second later. He seemed off.
The blonde's brows furrowed in confusion. "Why do you look like that?"
Pope was silent for a moment. He just stared at the girl in front of him without speaking a word. But then, he finally did find his words. "She doesn't like me," was all he muttered.
"Oh," was all that fell from Izzy's lips. She had no idea what to say. Because, really, what was he talking about? She wracked her brain for an answer, trying to figure out what or rather who Pope Heyward was talking about. And then . . . it clicked. He was talking about Kiara. In his intoxicated state, he must have confessed to the Carrera girl that he had feelings for her and she . . . rejected him (JJ had briefly mentioned his thoughts about the two, presenting the idea that Pope had a thing for Kiara . . . but that was almost too obvious to see anyway). Still, what the fuck! She didn't expect this to happen now of all times.
Before Izzy could react, Pope buried his face in the palms of his hands and shook his head. "I'm so fucking stupid," he mumbled, his words muffled by his hands. His voice cracked as he spoke, giving him away.
This couldn't happen. Not now. Now was not the time for the head and brains of their group to unravel into a mess of a heartbroken teenage boy. Surely, he would draw attention to them, and then they'd really be screwed. She had to get him out of there before they all got caught. So Izzy did the only thing she knew how to do. "Oh, oh no. Pope. Pope. Come on, you can't do this now," she said, her voice soft. She placed a hand on his arm and squeezed in an attempt to comfort him. But she knew simple words weren't going to help. She knew simple words had never comforted her either. She'd have to get through to him the only way anyone could. She had to speak his language, as JJ Maybank would say. "Would Han Solo let rejection get in his way of completing a mission?"
Pope looked at her, shock written across his face. He wet his lips and swallowed, his Adam's apple twitching while he stared at her in thought. "No," he muttered after a second.
A smile graced Izzy's face. "No? Didn't think so," she replied. "So you gotta pull yourself together and get back to JJ. He's in the van. You know that. You know where it is. Kie will probably meet you in a few and I'll get there as fast as I can. Got it?"
She nodded once and he nodded back—a silent agreement. And for a second, Izzy let herself look at the boy she had grown to call her friend. She looked at him and saw just a boy, heartbroken over a girl and all she could think was just how much she wished this whole shitshow would be over. Maybe then, he'd be able to deal with the bitter rejection the way he was supposed to, the way a normal sixteen-year-old was supposed to. Instead, he was stuck having to deal with his emotions all the while trying to save his friend from a life locked behind bars. She was sure this wasn't fair in the slightest. She wondered what horrible things the group of them could have possibly done to screw over the universe this much. How did they deserve this fate? It seemed cruel.
And as she stared at him, sympathy pulsing through her heart, she wondered if he ever felt like too much too? Because in her mind, either everyone felt like that at least a little bit, and they just weren't talking about it, or she was completely fucking alone. And Izzy Windsor was tired of being alone.
It was that thought alone that brought Izzy back to reality and out of her head. The driving desperation to not be alone anymore made her remember what she had set out to do. She had to get to Sarah. She just had to. If she found a way to get Sarah out of that house without raising suspicion, then she could clear John B's name and everything would work out alright. Everything would be okay if she could just do that. Lonely Izzy would be no more with the people she had come to know as her friends by her side once again. She just had to get into that house.
Her eyes flicked to the lights leading to the front porch. Then, her hand slipped from Pope's arm and she prepared herself to take off without another word. She wasn't sure if she could manage words. She just knew she had to get there. That was her driving force. She couldn't let her emotions get the best of her. She couldn't be too much right now.
But before she could make an advance to the front door, Pope wrapped a hand around her arm, halting her in her actions. "Wait, where are you going?" he whispered, his voice full of concern.
Izzy didn't look at him. "I'm getting Sarah out of that fucking house."
Pope's brows twitched. A look flashed on his face and it almost seemed like he was confused or something, but the look didn't stay long before it was replaced with understanding. He nodded at his thoughts as if to give the girl a go-ahead. "Uh . . . good luck?" His hand dropped from her arm as it fell limp against his side. He was still too high to function all that well. That much was clear.
"Thanks," was all Izzy said.
She made it a few more feet before Pope called out to her again. "Hey, Iz?" he hissed. He was clearly unaware of how his voice carried.
Izzy then did glance over her shoulder to look at him. She raised her brows at him and pursed her lips, slightly agitated. She hoped the Camerons hadn't heard them. It would so not be fun getting caught at that very moment. That would be, like, one big 'fuck you' from the universe.
But Pope didn't seem to take note of her annoyed expression. Instead, a lazy smile lifted onto his face as he offered her a small shrug. "Didn't take you as a Star Wars fan," he stated, amused.
Izzy gave him a look. "I'm not."
"Liar," Pope claimed as he shoved a finger at her and pointed. "We are so binge-watching all the movies when this blows over." A wide grin consumed his face as he nodded a few times at his thoughts. Apparently, he had forgotten about what happened between him and Kiara a few minutes prior (at least for the time being).
"Okay, sure," she agreed. "Good luck, comrade."
Pope slightly bowed. "May the force be with you."
Izzy shook her head. "Yeah . . . we're not doing that. See you soon, Pope." She offered him a small nod before she turned her attention back to her desired destination and took off. As she stealthily walked across the lawn, she briefly caught sight of Kiara running out from the other side of the house, but she didn't make a move to run toward her to catch her up on the new plan. Izzy figured Pope would fill Kiara in, and that had to be enough for her.
The Windsor girl had more pressing issues to worry about anyway.
The more pressing issues in question stood before her. The Cameron estate stood tall and proud like its owners. With its head held high and mighty, overlooking the island, it almost seemed too proud of itself, like, it was taunting the inhabitants of the Outer Banks. But chip away the paint, and you'd see what really lied below all the power and pride that fueled the house. Hunger and greed lied under the floorboards of the manor. So hungry and so bitter, the house had poisoned its owners to the point where Izzy wasn't sure which of the two had continued to taint the grounds.
Because the truth was: whether the Camerons had poisoned the house or if it was the other way around, it didn't matter. Both were fueled with equal parts of anger and greed.
Fuck you, was all Izzy could think as she glared at the house. Her mind was racing too much to think of anything else. Because, really, fuck this place and everything it stood so fucking prideful for. Fuck all of this.
Her mind was still racing by the time she made it to the front door of the Cameron estate. She couldn't think. She hadn't been able to since the day began. She was sure she looked like a dead girl walking as the events of the past few days rolled by in a blur. But what she wouldn't admit was how familiar that feeling was to her. It was almost comforting, but she didn't want it to be. It was the same feeling which consumed her after her mother died. The same feeling which ruined her life. She almost let it convince her that being too much would be all she could ever be.
Because, really, falling back into that rut would be so easy. To let it consume her would be expected, it would be what was always expected. Maybe a part of her would enjoy it. She knew the feeling as if it were a caretaker. It had equally nursed her wounds and created new ones. It would be easy. Almost too easy. Because sometimes the things that felt so familiar could be mistaken as comfort, no matter how lethal they actually were.
But . . . it was different now. Izzy had to believe that. She had to believe that no matter how familiar, how comforting it would be to slip back into that mindset, she wouldn't let herself.
Nothing good ever came from toxic cycles. Izzy would do well to remember that.
As Izzy stared at the front door of the Cameron estate, those thoughts solidified in her mind. She inhaled sharply and squeezed her eyes shut. Push yourself, she thought. You have to push yourself to be better. No one else could help her but herself. She knew that and she knew it well. So, Izzy being Izzy took one more look at the house in front of her and glared at it with equal amounts of hate and anger almost as if she were challenging it, and then . . . she knocked.
It was silent for a moment as the sound of her knock echoed in her head like a haunting lullaby. She could hear her blood pounding in her ears, growing louder the longer she waited. And just when she was about to raise her fist to knock again, the sound of a lock clicked and the creak of the front door opening followed. Izzy prepared herself to meet the eyes of Ward Cameron. Scratch that . . . she prepared herself to meet the eyes of a killer. But as the door opened completely, it revealed none other than Rose Cameron standing in the doorway.
Izzy's brows knitted together. "Rose?" she questioned before she cleared her throat and flashed the woman a smile. "Um, hi." She didn't have a plan for this.
Rose looked just as, if not, even more confused than the teenage girl. "Izzy . . . hey, honey," she began. "What—"
But another voice cut her off. "Izzy!" the voice yelled, drawing all the attention to them. Ward Cameron stood at the top of the staircase, and for a second he almost resembled the house he owned. He stood tall, his head held high with pride as he stared at the girl standing on his front porch. His eyes narrowed into slits, analyzing her collected state. It was almost as if he were trying to see through her stiff posture and find out why she was there. But Izzy knew how to lie, and she knew how to do it well. Ward wouldn't be able to see past anything. But . . . if you looked past his facade, you'd see the same anger and greed which fueled the Cameron estate also flowed through his veins.
Greed was a deadly disease. That much was evident. Ward Cameron just so happened to be one of its victims.
And all Izzy could do was watch in horror as he walked down the staircase, sweat beads dotting his forehead as he offered the girl a small smile. But it wasn't one meant to be comforting. And it did its job well—it made Izzy's blood run cold.
Ward reached the bottom of the staircase, then walked to stand beside Rose in the doorway. But his eyes stayed trained on Izzy Windsor, almost as if he were studying her. "Hey, kid . . . what are you doing here?" he asked, his words holding more accusation than actual curiosity.
Lie, a voice hissed in her ears. And Izzy listened. She listened well.
Izzy blinked once, then let herself speak. "I know it's late, but I had a talk with my dad and I've had a few hours to think it over. Anyways, I just wanted to come by and apologize face-to-face," she claimed as she offered them a sweet smile. She hadn't really thought about what'd she say when she reached their door. She just knew she had to get in there. Somehow. "I'm honestly . . . ashamed that I ruined Midsummers. I know how hard my dad and you—" she gestured to Ward— "worked to orchestrate it, and it was stupid of me to do what I did. Also throwing away the awards was, like, totally the wrong move. So I'm sorry to you both. Honestly." She glanced between them, hoping the anger in her eyes wouldn't give her away.
Her words made Rose smile. "Honey, it's okay—"
But Ward cut her off. "Your father called earlier," he stated, simply, his words curt. "He mentioned the talk, but he didn't say anything about an apology. He told me you barged into your house with Luke Maybank's kid, refused to listen to him, and then ran off with the rest of that . . . crew." He crossed his arms over his chest all the while maintaining eye contact with the teenager. He hadn't stopped staring at her the entire time. "Now . . . I have reason to believe that your friends are trying to . . . lure Sarah out. So, I'm going to ask you once, and trust me I'll know if you're lying . . . are you a part of this?"
Fuck, Izzy thought as she breathed, although she wasn't sure if she was anymore. She was sure she had to think to breathe at this point, but she didn't make that obvious. "I was," were the words which flowed from her lips. She wasn't thinking anymore either. She knew she lied better on autopilot. "I haven't seen my dad since then, but I swear I'm not with them anymore. I went with them, but then the Sheriff got shot. I didn't see it happen . . . but I saw John B afterward. He looked fuckin' crazy, like . . . like . . . like he killed someone." She squeezed her eyes shut and forced out a shaky breath. She forgot how easy lying was. "I ran after that. I saw him covered in blood and I ran, Mr. Cameron."
The silence consumed them as Izzy took her act a step further and fluttered open her eyes to stare at the Camerons. And then, she gave them this look. It was the same look which she had worn after her mother died, except this time it was fake. This time she wore this look to cover the anger coursing through her veins. If she didn't, she was sure Ward would see the hate she carried for him. This was a man she kind of trusted (she wouldn't admit it but she had trusted him a lot actually) and he had betrayed that trust. He had stolen and killed. He was all that Izzy hated. He ripped John B's father from him and made the kid fatherless. Izzy knew how much it hurt to lose a parent and she hated Ward for the sole fact that he had made that a reality for one of her friends. She almost couldn't believe it . . . but she did and the fact that it was the truth made her so fucking angry.
But she managed to mask her anger well. After all, she had been faking almost all her life. This was second nature to Izzy Windsor. (Maybe she should've been a fuckin' actress, right!?)
"I promise I would have never sided with them had I known what he'd do," Izzy mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper. "That's the reason I'm here. To apologize for even associating with them in the first place. I'm so sorry. It makes me sick to think that I was running around with a fuckin' murderer." She swung her arm out as if to express her emotions in a way she knew she could sell well. She brought her arm back into herself and let herself fully sell her act. She knew she had to do something big to win over Ward.
And so, she thought of Ward killing John B's father. She thought of how he had taken in the kid while knowing he had been the reason John B was fatherless. She thought of how he had covered for his son's brutal actions all the while shifting the blame onto none other than the kid who he had screwed over the most. She thought of all the blood he had spilled. She thought of her mother. She thought of her death and the blood that had been spilled there. She thought of all her ghosts. She thought of it all—the red lights, the drugs she abused, the sound of the machine coding, the funeral. All of it.
And as it all rushed back, it evoked something inside of her. Her thoughts jumbled in her head as she thought of every bad thing that had ever happened on that stupid cursed island, and then . . . she let herself become too much. She let her emotions spill over the edge as her thoughts consumed her and a single tear trickled down her cheek.
That was the first of many.
As that single tear slipped down her cheek, it opened the floodgates. And once the floodgates opened, Izzy Windsor had begun to cry . . . no . . . sob. She wrapped her arms around her body and let herself cry. She let herself become too much, telling herself that this was all for an act. But she was no longer acting. This . . . this was real.
And then, Ward took the bait.
He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Izzy. "Hey, hey, hey—" he cooed, stroking her hair as she cried into his chest. (Izzy, however, felt sick crying in the arms of a killer. It made her stomach churn.)— "it's okay, kid. The good news is that you're not hanging around them anymore."
"I saw the blood on his hands and it reminded me of my mom," she cried out, speaking the truth. But she didn't blame John B. No, the man she wanted to feel guilty for this was the one who was holding her so tightly. And as he held her, all she could think was how she wanted him to hurt. "I don't understand how he could kill someone. He took a life. He should be fucking ashamed. He's a pathetic excuse for a man."
"He is," was all Ward muttered.
That was when Izzy knew he was suffocating under all his guilt. It was eating him alive. Good, she thought. Let him rot.
She let him hold her for a few minutes just to make sure he believed her. And as he held her, rubbing her back like a father would, she only felt disgust cloud her senses. If she really thought about it she could peel over and hurl any second, but she kept herself composed and focused on her thoughts. She focused on the hurt in her heart and the pain etched into every part of her life, and then, she let herself cry harder. She cried for everything she had lost and she latched onto him tighter to seal the deal. But whether she admitted it or not, she knew deep down she was holding onto him for dear life because she needed this. She needed to let herself unravel and have someone hold her up even if that meant coming undone in the arms of a killer. And that was the real reason her stomach churned—the fact that she needed comfort so badly she'd accept it from a person poisoned by greed and rage.
Because here was the thing: letting go of people wasn't as easy as it sounded even if they were so clearly greedy, horrible, and downright evil people. Izzy hated the man holding her more than she could describe in words. But (and there was always, unfortunately, a but) she had grown up with this man in her life, and he had served as a father figure of some sort. She had watched him be so good to Sarah and she had always wished he were her father. That had all changed, as you can imagine, but letting go of the comfort he once gave her was harder than she thought it would be. That made her hate him all the more.
Izzy supposed she should have seen this all coming. After all, the rich (those plagued by greed and the desire to succeed no matter what) would do anything to come out victorious even if it meant destroying those around them. It was just how they were. Only a few dared to break the chain.
Izzy broke away from the embrace first. She slightly stumbled backward, wiping her tear-stained cheeks as she tried to breathe properly. She blinked once then looked up to meet Ward's concerned gaze. She offered him a small smile to hide the fact she wanted to punch him in the face. Then, she looked at Rose and smiled a little wider. It was all so painful because, like, how could people like this just watch as the world burned around them, knowing they were the root cause? How could they watch everyone suffer so greatly? It almost seemed sinister.
But never mind that, Izzy decided. The Cameron's would get what was coming to them soon enough and she could aid in that. She only needed to get to Sarah. If she could do that it would be them burning to ash as the world watched in judgment. That would be their atonement.
The Windsor girl wrapped her arms around herself and bit her lip out of nerves. She hoped her demeanor would look natural and not like she was hiding her true motives. She took that leap of faith that they thought of her like that and then, she spoke. "I'm sorry, but I was also wondering if I could see Rafe," she mumbled as she brought a hand up to curl a piece of her white-blonde hair behind her ear. She shook her head and wet her lips, trying to come up with an explanation. "It's just . . . this whole thing made me realize I wasn't being fair to him. I want him back. But . . . I just . . . I need to apologize to him."
Now, of course, Izzy Windsor wasn't actually planning on seeing her ex-boyfriend. She just knew if she had a shot of getting inside the Cameron house it would be because of Rafe. She had to make them believe she wanted to see him, and then, she could get to Sarah. She would do anything to get to Sarah.
Ward only sighed. "Look, kid, I don't know," he said in a low tone as he pinched the bridge of his nose in agitation.
Fuck, Izzy thought. She needed him to let her in. She needed this. It was her only hope. "I'm sorry. I know it's late and it's been a long day for you, but I need to see him," she whined, trying to convince the two adults that her heart beat for Rafe Cameron only. "I made a mistake and I want to make it right. I have to apologize to him, Mr. Cameron. Please, it'll only take a minute. Please."
Ward opened his mouth to respond to the teenage girl but before he could, Rose put a perfectly manicured hand on his shoulder, silencing him. "Ward, look at her," she cooed as she gestured to Izzy Windsor, who was standing in their doorway with mascara running down her cheeks and this look in her eyes. "She loves the boy. It'll be good for Rafe to see her. It'll calm him down."
The two looked at each other for a minute. Ward was analyzing his wife's face, trying to read her. While Rose only gave him a warm, knowing look as if to say 'It's okay'. And then, Ward Cameron finally took his eyes off of the woman beside him and focused his attention back on Izzy. He stared at her for a minute, too as if he was trying to figure out if her words were true or not. Of course, they weren't, but the look on her face never gave that away.
Another minute passed before Ward closed his eyes and sighed. "All right, but only for a minute," he said, gruffly. "I'll have to call your father and let him know where you are. He's worried about you."
Izzy nearly rolled her eyes. He's worried about you. Sure he was. This was all bullshit if you asked her. She just wanted to get to Sarah. That was the only thing keeping her going.
But she didn't speak her mind, instead, Izzy complacently smiled and said, "Uh . . . is Rafe in his room?"
Rose nodded and Ward answered, "Yeah, he might be asleep, though, so just be cautious."
"Right," Izzy mumbled as she stepped into the Cameron house and walked by the two adults. She got to the edge of the staircase leading to the second floor, then glanced over her shoulder to look at Ward and Rose. "Uh, Mr. Cameron and . . . Rose?"
The two adults looked at her, waiting for her to continue her thoughts. And she did.
"Thank you," Izzy said as she smiled slightly. This was almost pitiful—how oblivious they were. "I appreciate you doing this for me."
Ward nodded once. "No, problem, kid."
And then Izzy was gone. She slightly sprinted up the staircase and pretended she was desperately rushing to Rafe Cameron's bedroom. But she knew her real motives. She knew she wasn't going anywhere near Rafe Cameron and his temper. She was headed straight for Sarah Cameron's bedroom. She was headed toward her best friend.
When Izzy reached the door at the very end of the hall, she tried the handle. It didn't budge. Of course, the door was locked. Ward was a fucking psychopath. So Izzy took a step back and stared at the white wood, analyzing the door while trying to think where Ward would put the key or a spare. But her mind drifted for a moment as she stared at the door and really took sight of the big, pink wooden 'S' ornament hanging from a nail hammered into the door. She remembered like it was just yesterday when Sarah got that ornament from the craft's store in town. But it wasn't just yesterday. Sarah had gotten it when they were kids, like, a long time ago, like, before Izzy's mother died and Sarah's mother left. They were kids back then.
Sometimes it felt like they had been kids yesterday, but adults today. It was a funny thing—time. How it snuck up on you. Izzy wasn't sure how to feel about it. She was certain she would have enjoyed it a lot more had the reason why they had to grow up so soon not been so . . . devastating.
Izzy shook her head of her intrusive thoughts and began her search for the key. She looked in the fake potted plant placed in the corner of the end of the hallway. No luck. She dragged her hand across the windowsill of the singular window placed at the end of the hall. But still, no luck. Then, finally, she stood on her toes and reached her hand up to drag across the little ledge to the top of the doorframe surrounding Sarah's bedroom door. She expected for it to not be there, but as her fingers traced toward the end of the ledge, she felt something metal. A smile spread across her face as she grabbed the key and quickly looked around once before she put it into the lock and twisted it open.
She pocketed the key in her bra, then quietly opened the door further. As the door creaked open, she caught sight of Sarah Cameron sitting on her bed while doodling in her notebook. The Cameron girl hadn't caught sight of her friend, instead, it seemed she had heard the opening of the door and assumed it was her father coming to bother her again. So, Sarah's reaction—rolling her eyes and throwing her notebook on the bed in a huff—was completely warranted and amused Izzy. Let's just say she had to stifle a laugh. She had missed Sarah Cameron like crazy.
"Dad, I still haven't moved," Sarah whined as she leaned her head back against her headboard and kicked the notebook with her foot. "It's not like I can—" her words fell short as she finally turned to look at who she assumed was her father standing in the doorway. But Ward Cameron was nowhere to be found. Only Izzy Windsor, her best friend, stood before her. She had missed her more than words could explain. "Iz?"
A wide, toothy grin spread across Izzy's face as she maintained eye contact with the girl staring at her in shock. She stepped further into the bedroom and turned around to quietly close the door behind her so no one could hear their conversation. Once the door was closed she turned to face Sarah again. "Don't talk too loud," she whispered as she tucked her ivory-colored hair behind her ears.
Sarah's brows pinched together. "What are you . . . ?"
"Your dad let me in," Izzy explained. "He thinks I'm here to see Rafe. But I came to get you . . . to get you out so you can clear John's name. So this can all be over."
That was all it took before this smile almost too big to even call just a smile consumed her face, and then she leaped to her feet and began to reach for Izzy. She collided into Izzy a second later, wrapping her arms around the girl and pulling her in for a hug. Izzy had never been too good at expressing her emotions or affection, but it didn't take her long before she was hugging Sarah back. Her arms wrapped around the girl as she buried her face into her shoulder and squeezed her eyes shut. Only then did she realize she hadn't seen her friend in a few days and in those days too much shit had happened for the both of them not to have each other by their sides. But, they were finally together again and Izzy wanted to cherish this moment, because, really anything could happen. And that possibility scared her to the core.
"God, I've missed you," Sarah breathed out, her voice shaky.
"Dito, bitch," Izzy laughed as she hugged her tighter. But then, she became increasingly aware of the situation they were in, realizing that Ward had locked Sarah up in her room and Izzy had no idea what else he had done or if he had done anything else. The truth was: he couldn't be trusted at all. So, with those thoughts tainting her mind, she pulled away from the honey-blonde girl so she could analyze her face. "Are you okay?" She began looking for cuts or bruises just in case Ward or worse . . . Rafe . . . had laid a finger on her.
"Are you?" Sarah questioned back, avoiding the question. "You look like you've been crying."
Izzy touched a finger to her face, feeling the grimy mascara stains on her cheeks, but that didn't matter now. What mattered was making sure Sarah was okay. "Don't avoid the question, S," she mumbled, sternly.
Sarah only gave her this look. Her eyes glossed over with an emotion Izzy couldn't quite place. Then, she took a step back from the Windsor girl and sat down on her bed. She was the first to break eye contact, and instead, she focused her gaze on her hands that were clasped together on her lap. "I saw it happen, Iz," she mumbled, her voice barely audible. "Rafe . . . he just shot her. Just like that—" her words fell short as she shook her head and picked at the loose skin around her manicured fingernails— "and then she was dead. I don't even think he realizes what he did." She explained this and more with her words, referring to what happened to Sheriff Peterkin on that airstrip.
The look on Sarah's face was haunting. Izzy knew this girl better than she knew herself. And she knew she wasn't lying. This wasn't a look of deceit. This was a look of betrayal. But Izzy still couldn't stop herself from asking, "But you're on our side, right?" She had to make sure. She couldn't just trust her by the look on her face. She had to hear her speak the truth or she'd never fully feel content. "Like, Kie got to you? She told you that they're framing John B and everything?"
Sarah nodded, but still didn't glance up. "Yeah."
Izzy nodded once as if to acknowledge her friend's words. "And you're not in on it?" she pressed, again.
Then, Sarah did look up. "No, I wouldn't do that to him," she said, quietly. She wet her lips while straightening her posture. She seemed unnerved . . . almost frantic. Her hands found their way into her hair as she scratched her scalp, her body shaking as she did. "I know it's fast, but . . . " She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. "I know you don't believe in this shit, but . . . but I do. It's like after that day . . . I looked at him and I just saw him in a different light than I did before." Her eyes fluttered open and she made eye contact with Izzy once again. "He makes me want to be better. It's like none of that superficial shit matters anymore. It's like what you said, Iz. There are, like, so many fucking people in the world and sometimes all you need is one to make all the bullshit better. And John B's like that for me."
Izzy only nodded.
Then . . . Sarah was apologizing. "Sorry, I know this annoys you and—"
"No," Izzy cut her off with a small, gentle voice. "No, I'm not annoyed." The corners of her lips twitched into a small smile as she took a step forward and sat down on the bed beside her friend. "I get it. You've come a long way. I'm proud of you, S."
Sarah blinked. "Really?"
"Look, I know I've been a bitch," Izzy finally said after a minute. "Every time you mentioned any one of your boyfriends I'd roll my eyes and it probably seemed like I didn't care . . . and for that, I'm sorry." Her words proved true as she grabbed Sarah's hand and squeezed. "You're really happy now, and okay, I don't know John B that well, but, like, we're friends . . . I guess . . . and he's honestly not that bad. He's a little annoying, but, he's brave and he . . . cares about you a lot. He'd do anything for you, and that counts for something in my books."
Sarah's eyes glossed over slightly as she offered up a smile. "You're like my best friend, you know that?"
You're like my best friend, you know that? Those words echoed in Izzy's head as it dawned on her that she hadn't been acting like that. She had never really acted like Sarah Cameron's best friend and that made her feel almost too guilty for her liking. It almost ate her alive.
Izzy gathered enough courage to stare at her friend for a moment, finally letting the silence consume them. She looked at her and saw the girl who had been her best friend since she was a child, the girl who had always been there for her even if she didn't want her to be, the girl who loved her through it all, the girl she should have always called her best friend. Sarah had made mistakes and so had Izzy but through it all, they were always there for each other even if they didn't see it. This was Sarah Cameron, her best friend and she loved her. Nothing would change that. She only wished she had realized that sooner. She wished she hadn't been such a bitch to her all those years. She wished she had been better if not for her own sake, then for Sarah's.
"I'm sorry," the Windsor girl finally mumbled.
Sarah's brows twitched. "Why?"
"I've always looked over you," Izzy spoke the truth. Because she had. She really had. She was always hoping someone would come into her life and be there for her all the while there sat Sarah Cameron trying to do just that but Izzy had never let her. She had always just ignored her, writing her off as a freeloader. But Sarah cared. She always had. She had never used her. If anything, she had kept her going. She had saved her. "You stuck with me. You've always been there and I never told you how much that meant to me. And now the world is, like, ending and it feels like it's just a little too late, and that sucks. It fuckin' sucks, and I'm sorry for that."
Sarah shook her head. "Iz, you don't have to—"
But Izzy quickly cut her off. She wasn't done. "No, Sarah, listen . . . " she trailed off, her words tangling around her tongue. She needed Sarah to hear just how awful she felt for treating her like second best all those years. She closed her eyes and breathed out through her nose, then she inhaled and her eyes fluttered open a second later. "When I think back to my life before this summer, it's, like, so obvious that you were the thing that kept me going. I know that sounds stupid, but I needed you and you were there no matter how many times I hurt you. I never saw it, but I do now, and I just need you to know that . . . you saved me."
Sarah only stared at her as a singular tear trickled down her cheek. She seemed at a loss for words.
Izzy took that as her chance to continue. "And I know you think that I'm holding some kind of grudge against you because you made one mistake when we were fifteen, but I'm not mad," she explained, truthfully as she searched Sarah's eyes for a hint of understanding. "You were just scared. We're all scared of something. And besides, that doesn't even fuckin' matter. You still stayed. You stayed and you saved me. You were one of the only people who stuck with me through all my bullshit when everyone else just left. I wish I realized that sooner." She swallowed, hard and avoided eye contact as she pulled her hands back to her own lap, folding into herself. "I, like, love you or whatever."
Silence only answered the Windsor girl in return. And then she felt, like, really stupid. She couldn't even look at Sarah without a wave of embarrassment consuming her. She was always doing this. She was always being too much all the time. Maybe that's all she would be.
Izzy anxiously tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. She hated when she got like this. "Are you gonna' say something?" she asked, hesitantly. "I feel like an idiot now."
Sarah only smiled in return, but Izzy didn't catch sight of it. The Cameron girl reached forward and put her hands on either side of Izzy's face, forcing the girl to look at her. Then, she smiled wider and spoke in a soft, nimble voice, "When I think of everyone else out there in the world that goes through their lives alone; and then I think of all the amazing years I got to spend with my beautiful, beautiful best friend, Izzy Windsor . . . I kinda feel sorry for everyone else."
Then, Izzy finally smiled as relief washed over her. She shook her head slightly and reached for Sarah, pulling her into another hug. She closed her eyes and breathed in, catching onto the smell of saltwater and mild berry-scented perfume on Sarah's person. (Maybe it wasn't actually perfume, because, to be honest, Sarah still washed her hair with those strawberry-scented shampoos for kids that you see at the grocery store, but whatever.) Sarah wrapped her arms around Izzy as well, and then everything just felt right even if it were just for a second.
"I swear if your stupid, skinny ass goes anywhere before I say so, we are so not best friends anymore, you got it?" Izzy said as she laughed into Sarah's hair. Sarah laughed along with her. It was a fleeting moment of bliss, one that the both of them wished would last forever.
Dread seemed to consume them as the next few seconds passed by almost too slowly. It was all so much. "I love you," Sarah whispered, but her words sounded a lot more like she was saying 'goodbye'.
"I love you, too, S," Izzy whispered back, her words falling short. She felt like crying again and she couldn't figure out why. She had gotten to Sarah which meant everything was going to turn out, so then why did she feel like this?
"Promise me one thing though," Sarah said before she pulled away from the hug and gave the girl beside her this look.
"What?"
Sarah looked at her for a moment, then sighed. "Promise me you'll tell JJ how you really feel," she said, her words curt. "Because you don't know what could happen. People are dropping like flies, and John B's in trouble and—" she cut herself off and shook her head of her previous thoughts. "Just . . . promise me you'll tell him before it's too late. I know you're scared, but you don't have to be. He literally looks at you like you're the fuckin' sun or something."
"It's not that easy."
Sarah deadpanned. "You're fucking stupid," she huffed. "You and I both know that's bullshit."
Izzy only shrugged, because it really wasn't that easy. She had never grown up with love in her life. The only love she had been shown had been faked, glamorized by the media. It wasn't real, and she knew that all too well. "I'm used to people using me. Boys mostly," she finally began. "Sometimes it's like . . . I don't even feel pretty anymore . . . I just feel used." She inhaled sharply, then heavily sighed. "People use me. Rafe used me. And I'm worried if I let myself . . . love JJ and then it falls apart, I might not make it. Because what if I get used to loving him? What if I lean on him a little too much and then he just leaves me like everyone else? I don't know if I can recover from that. I don't know if I'll ever be able to. I think it would be too much to come back from. Because, if I let myself love him, Sarah, I won't be able to do it in a simple way. If I love him, it'll consume me, comfort me. Because if I love him . . . I'll love him too much."
"Iz, it's a little too late for that. You already love him. Don't you see that?" Sarah said, in a soft voice as if she was trying not to scare off the girl beside her. She waved her hand in the air a second later, clearing the air. "Besides, you don't have to worry, Iz. It's JJ. He's as loyal as a dog. Let yourself care . . . completely. He's not going anywhere."
Izzy nodded. "Okay," she breathed out.
Sarah only smiled.
The Windsor girl inhaled sharply and shook her head, trying to forget what Sarah had just said at least for now. She couldn't be thinking about how her heart beat for JJ Maybank. She couldn't deal with that now. So, instead, she ignored the funny feeling and stood to her feet. "Now . . . let's get you out of here. You gotta' clear John's name sooner rather than later," she stated, truthfully, but really she was just trying to get out of there quickly before she got caught. Everything would be ruined then and she would be all to blame. "I'll go out first and distract anyone who I see, and then you make a run for it, got it?"
Sarah stood to her feet as well and nodded. "Got it."
Izzy sent her a smile, then headed for the door. But before she could open it, Sarah stopped her.
"Iz, wait," the Cameron girl called out.
Izzy glanced over her shoulder. "Yeah?"
Sarah didn't say another word, she just stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Izzy, pulling her in for a hug one last time. She hugged her like they were never going to see each other again, and then, she whispered, "You saved me, too."
With that, Izzy gave her friend a smile, then turned around and opened the bedroom door. She stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind her. Her hand fell from the door as she released a sigh. She wasn't sure why but a funny feeling consumed her, making her stomach churn. All she wanted to do was walk back into Sarah's room and pretend like the police weren't after one of their friends. She just wanted everything to go back to normal when she would come over and the two of them would watch television series on Sarah's MacBook all night long. She missed their slumber parties and she didn't realize just how much until that exact moment. It was funny how you realize just how much you take for granted only after you have lost it. She hated that, but maybe it would all work out. Maybe everything would be okay and they could have those slumber parties again, only this time they'd be happier and Kiara would join them. Maybe—
"Izzy?"
Izzy halted in her actions, turning to see who had called her name with her eyes wide and filled with shock . . . but she had a feeling she already knew the beholder of the voice. And as she turned to look at who had caught her redhanded, her eyes landed on none other than Rafe Cameron. "Rafe," she breathed. She swallowed, hard and took in his appearance. Although, there wasn't much to note. He looked fucking insane, like, one of those serial killers in a stupid horror movie.
Rafe shook his head as if he couldn't believe she was actually there, standing before him. "What are you—" he cut himself off as his eyes flicked to Sarah's closed door. "Were you just in Sarah's room?"
"No," Izzy said, bluntly, "I was coming to find you."
Rafe blinked. "Oh."
Fear consumed the girl as she realized if they stayed out in the hallway, Sarah would come out of her room and Rafe would realize that Izzy had let her out. He'd realize it all and everything would be ruined. So, Izzy thought quickly. She glanced at the room beside Sarah's and caught sight of its open door, figuring that Rafe had just come out of it moments before. She would have to drag him in there if this was going to work out as planned, so she did just that. "Let's talk in here," Izzy mumbled as she quickly reached for Rafe's hand and pulled him into the empty room, making sure to close the door behind them.
The Windsor girl breathed a sigh of relief once the door was firmly shut, encasing them in the dark room. She reached for the light, flicking it on, but it barely shed any light. She took that time to look around, realizing she had found herself in a small study. There was a tall armoire up against the back wall of the room along with a coffee table in the middle of the room that was surrounded by a few couches. She had never been in here before, and she wasn't sure why Rafe had been. Then, she caught sight of an old newspaper resting on the coffee table, but that wasn't what caught her attention. What grasped her gaze was what the article was about. It was an article from years ago stating how Peterkin had just become the new Sheriff and the island had thrown a parade in her honor.
She was most likely dead now. That thought alone was enough to make Izzy's stomach churn. And worst of all, the person to blame for this tragedy was standing a few feet away from her.
Rafe cleared his throat. "So—"
But Izzy cut him off. "Did you kill her?" she spat, bitterly. She wasn't thinking again. She couldn't. She was reminded of Sheriff Peterkin's death, and rage consumed her mind. Rafe Cameron had taken a life and Izzy Windsor wanted to hear him admit it. Maybe then she could completely believe that all of this was her cruel reality.
"What?" Rafe questioned, playing dumb.
Izzy met his gaze, narrowing her eyes at him. "Did you kill Peterkin?" she asked again as her hands clenched into fists. She wasn't going to hit him, but god, she wanted to. She had trusted him and he had done this. She didn't even know who she was looking at now. All the good that was once there had vanished and that was perhaps the hardest part to accept. Because a part of her still couldn't believe that the boy she once knew had become a fucking murderer. It just seemed so sinister.
And it seemed Rafe didn't believe it either. "No," he reiterated. "No, John B did. Haven't you heard the news?"
"Rafe."
Anger crossed Rafe's face, swallowing him whole. "You've been hanging around those people for too long," he bit out, his voice low. "You know me, Iz. I wouldn't kill someone. You even said that yourself."
Izzy shook her head as tears gathered in her eyes. "Yeah, but you're, like, totally fucked up now," she mumbled, and then she crossed her arms over her chest and shrugged.
Rafe ran a hand through his slicked-back hair, messing it up. "I'm just under a lot of stress, Iz," he muttered under his breath. "Give me a fucking break."
A scoff left Izzy's lips. She was more than angry now. Rafe just had that effect on her. He had always brought out the worst in her, and she knew that well. But she couldn't stop the storm from raging on inside her. So, she let herself become too much. "So you take your stress out by murdering people now?" she said, her voice rising an octave. "What kind of skewed notion is that?"
"I didn't fucking kill anyone," Rafe slowly spat out through clenched teeth.
"Look, Rafe, I don't know what your dad told you, but you need to confess. It's not right," she explained, secretly hoping he'd listen to her even though she knew he wouldn't. He never did. He never had. Rafe Cameron had always done exactly what he wanted. No exceptions. "You're nineteen. You can't screw over a sixteen-year-old's life because you don't wanna do time." She waved around her hand as if to emphasize her point.
Rafe shook his head. "You're such a fucking bitch," he uttered, his words laced with venom. His eyes had clouded over with this look, which made Izzy shift in her spot.
"Nice one," Izzy scoffed, trying to hide her unease. "I know you, Rafe. I know you feel guilty. It's eating you alive. I can see it on your face." She gestured to him, pointing at his face. "You hate yourself."
"Shut up," was all he said.
But Izzy continued. She knew she was getting under his skin. "You hate yourself so much that you'd do everything in your power to make everyone around you miserable just so you don't have to be the only one suffering," she explained, her words full of truth. "That's the real reason you're doing this."
"Shut up."
"This has nothing to do with self-preservation," she went on. "You just don't want to be alone."
As those words left her mouth, it looked as if she had hit a nerve. Rafe had fallen silent, seemingly trapped inside his own mind as he took in her words. He knew it was true, and now Izzy did, too.
"That's it, isn't it?" Izzy spoke up again, seeing how far she could go before he snapped. She just wanted him to admit it. "You don't want to be alone. But if you do this . . . you will be. Will you be proud of yourself then?"
That seemed to be the final straw. Rafe sprung forward, grabbing Izzy by the arm with one hand while he grabbed her face, securing his grip around her jaw with his other hand. "Shut up. Shut up. Shut up!" he yelled as he shook her face, his grip tightening around her jaw. "Get the fuck out of my head!"
Izzy winced due to his grip on her, but she didn't move. That would only anger him more. She needed to play her actions safe so her words could cut deep. "You really are too far gone," was all she managed to say as she searched his clouded-over eyes for any sign of remorse. And when she caught sight of that smidge of regret, she spoke to that part of him. "I guess I should've seen it coming though, right? I mean that one time you tried to quit smoking weed for a bet . . . but the entire week you just got blackout drunk every day, snorted cocaine, and took acid. Then you had a meltdown and beat the shit out of George Castro because he stole your bud, that you weren't supposed to have on you by the way. That was all before you finally decided the bet wasn't worth it and went back to smoking five or six times a day." A small, bitter smile lifted onto her face. She remembered telling him she was proud of him for quitting smoking. But that was before she found out what he had done in place of the drug. "I should've seen it then, huh? What a monster you had become."
Rafe didn't respond. He only tightened his grip on the girl in front of him.
So, Izzy took that as her sign to continue. "I see it now," she spat. "I see you now . . . and I hate what I see."
"See what?" he bit back. "That I'm exactly the person I was back then? You're the one who changed. You're the one who dumped me and started dating that freak. Who's to say you weren't cheating on me before then." There it was. There was the real reason he was so pissed at her. "You changed, not me." And he truly believed that. He couldn't see what he had really become. Perhaps he didn't want to see it.
But Izzy saw it. She saw it all. She also saw how Rafe was hurt by her and JJ being together. But there wasn't much to say about that. It wasn't complicated. The truth was: she and Rafe had ended long before she actually broke up with him. It wasn't hard to move on from him in that sense. She didn't even have to.
And maybe that was sick in a way, but Rafe had become cruel and abusive and Izzy had seen that long before he pulled the trigger on someone. He was never going to be the one she chose. This whole ordeal had confirmed that. Besides, it wasn't like he actually cared. She was more of an accessory to him than a girlfriend.
"He's good. He's sweet. He would never hurt me. I chose him," Izzy stated simply. "And I'm glad I did . . . because look what you are now. You're a fucking killer. You're sick."
Something snapped in Rafe, but he didn't act on it. "You're so fucking emotional," he scoffed. "I didn't kill her, Iz. I wouldn't. I . . . wouldn't." It almost seemed like he was trying to convince himself of his words rather than Izzy.
Rafe gave her one last fleeting look before he shook his head, then he let go of her, slightly shoving her as he released her from his grip. He took a step back and ran his hands through his hair as he approached the door. But before his hand could reach the doorknob, Izzy stopped him.
"Where are you going?" she questioned as she rubbed her jaw, trying to ease the pain. She was sure there would be bruises in the morning, and that thought pained her the most. Because, really, it was the fact that Rafe Cameron, the kid who would push her on the swings when they were kids, would hurt her this badly. It made her sick to think that she had trusted him all the while he was perfectly fine leaving bruises on her skin and speaking to her with such sick words.
"To find the real criminal," was all Rafe said. "You coming with? It doesn't have to be this way. We can . . . we can fix us. We could be like Bonnie and Clyde, Iz. Like we used to say." His words almost made Izzy laugh, because, like, what the fuck? He had always done this. After every fight, he'd try to go back to normal like he hadn't literally verbally abused her moments before. She hated how stupid she had been with him, how stupid he had made her.
But it was different now. Now, Izzy had enough courage to stand up for herself. "I'd rather drop fuckin' dead," she spat as she glared at him.
"Fine," Rafe muttered, "I tried."
With that, the boy turned the doorknob and opened the door. He stepped into the hallway and quickly shut the door behind him. Once he was gone, Izzy breathed a sigh of relief. But her relief didn't last long. No, instead, her nerves consumed her once she heard what sounded like a door being locked. And, then, she realized Rafe had locked her in the study, probably so she couldn't get out and warn the others. She was so screwed.
"Fuck," Izzy hissed as she ran to the door. She tried opening it but it was no use. Rafe really had locked her in there. "No, no, no. Fuck."
She had to think fast. She had to get out of there and quick. Who knew how long it would take before Rafe told Ward what she was really doing in the Cameron estate. Who knew what would become of her then. They'd probably take her to the police and have her sent to questioning. She'd be trapped. And Izzy Windsor hated being fucking trapped.
She had to find a way out.
The door was no use and it wasn't like she could scream for help. Plus, she was sure that Sarah had already gotten out so there went that idea. With those thoughts on her mind, she turned around and her eyes fell on the big window on the other side of the room, which overlooked the backyard. That was her only option.
So Izzy acted fast. She ran for the window, trying to see if it would open. No luck. She was going to have to break it. Fuck.
But Izzy didn't let that stop her. Instead, she gathered all her courage and looked around the study for anything she could use to break the window. She caught sight of the coffee table and sighed. That was her only option, huh? Fuck this. But whatever, Izzy still dove for the table, securing her hands around the heavy table as she tried to lift it in the air. She managed to carry it to the window (barely though). Then, she glared at the window before she carefully breathed in then out and nodded. And before she got too inside her own head and psyched herself out, she bellowed out a yell and chucked the table at the window.
The table collided with the window, going completely through it and breaking the barrier. Glass went flying everywhere, causing Izzy to shield her eyes from it as she watched in shock as the table shattered the window completely and then hit the ground below. The table itself broke once it made contact with the ground, and Izzy almost laughed. She couldn't believe she really broke a window with a fucking coffee table. But she didn't dwell on the thought for much longer before she, too, began to make her way toward the window. She was going to have to jump.
Wonderful, Izzy thought, sarcastically.
She peered over the windowsill, discovering that the drop wasn't too far, so it wasn't like she'd break any bones or anything. Luckily, the study, as well as Sarah's room, was only on the second floor, so she supposed she lucked out. But still, jumping in this skirt was so not ideal. And as she stared at the predicament below her, she heard distant footsteps, and she realized that Ward Cameron would be barging into the study any minute to catch her. But she wouldn't have that. She had to get out.
And she did.
Izzy Windsor took a leap of faith, and climbed onto the windowsill, careful not to come into contact with any glass. She whipped around to find her balance but in the process a shard of glass knicked her arm, cutting through the flesh. But she barely felt it. How could she when freedom was so near? And with that final thought, Izzy jumped.
In an instant, the girl smacked the ground hard on her back. Pain shot up her back, consuming her, but she didn't have time to dwell on the ache. She stifled her groans and tried to ignore the pain as she checked for any broken bones. She found none. That almost made her smirk. How many more times would Izzy Windsor escape death? It seemed she had nine lives or whatever.
Izzy gathered her nine lives and struggled to stand to her feet. She glanced behind her, finding that the back patio door was still wide open, but her friends were nowhere to be found. She was sure they had driven away now and gone to The Wreck to hide from the police. She knew she had to leave too. The Cameron estate was no longer a place of comfort. This was the monster she had been running from the past few days, and she needed to gather herself one last time to run away from it and run toward her friends who needed her.
With that singular thought on her mind, Izzy ignored the pain pulsing through her body and took a step backward. She stared down the house a moment longer, before she turned on her heels and took off running. She ran away from the monsters behind her. She ran away from the memories of herself that would forever stay locked in that damn house. She ran away from it all, from all her ghosts. And instead, she ran toward something new, something better.
Tragedy had consumed her life, but Izzy would be damned if she let it control her any longer. This was how she broke the chain. This was how she saved them all. Whether that made her a hero or not was not up to her. After all, she was just a girl who was made to believe she was too much . . . not some hero.
a/n: this is so very late. like over half a year late. i have no words. college and writer's block will do that to you yay.....
i hope everyone is well. tell me how u are :) also, also thank you to anyone who still reads this. you make my heart happy.
also i'm putting this in every chapter that rafe is in: so i don't know who needs to hear this, but rafe IS a toxic person. he's a toxic person in the show and he's a toxic person in this fic. i wrote him like this because it's canon to the show. his and izzy's relationship should NOT be romanticized. i am not romanticizing them, and you shouldn't either. so please don't romanticize them. it's not cute. it's not romantic. it's wrong.
^ hence the chapter title name "bonnie and clyde" aka a toxic relationship and also the episode title in euphoria where it explores maddy and nate's toxic relationship. i did this to show the parallels between them and how relationships like these shouldn't be accepted or romanticized.
thank you for reading!