Random Question: What do you think of the cover?

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Chapter 8 | Secrets And Struggles

"Because the brightest smiles hide the darkest secrets."

-Anonymous

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"So what will you wear?" Ben said barging into Mallory's room and plopping down in the bean bag chair.

Mallory, who had her eyes glued to her laptop, pulled out the ear plugs and pressed 'Pause' on the episode of 'Teen Wolf' she was watching. Getting interrupted while binge watching was Boone the things she despised the most. With a groan she pulled the screen down and looked at her best friend who in turn gave her an expectant gaze.

"When did you come?"

"Oh, only a couple of hours ago. I was downstairs watching TV."

"Who let you in?" She cocked her head sideways.

"I let myself in," he shrugged. "I have the key, you know."

"So, you had been downstairs all this time when I was sitting here upstairs thinking I was alone. Talk about creepy," Mallory remarked quirking her eyebrow.

"Don't look at it me like that. My cable subscription expired just like that and I was in the middle of an episode. What was I supposed to do? Breaking into your house was my only viable option," he defended with a scoff.

"Accept it, Ben. You are a sick pervert who admires me and you were here to fulfil your sick fetish."

"Jeez, woman. Cut down your crime television shows, they are making you dramatic."

"Baby, I was born dramatic," she said with a cheeky grin.

"That is, in fact, very true!" he agreed. "Anyway so, watcha going to wear?"

"What do you mean?" She stared at him blankly.

"You are going on a date. Aren't you? That too with Mister Mystery!"

Mallory blinked repeatedly. Then she threw her head backwards and bursted out laughing "Mister Mystery? Seriously, Ben?"

Ben grinned sheepishly, "Isn't it a cool nickname? I was thinking of something along the lines of 'White Devil' or something, but that's extremely racist so 'Mister Mystery' has to fill in the slot for the time being."

"Benny. Benny. Benny," Mallory shook her head sideways and patted his cheek, "You need medical help."

"Melly. Melly. Melly. Changing the topic is a classic distraction technique. Now, tell me what you gonna wear to your date?"

"It's not a date."

"Then what is it?" He winked suggestively.

"He just wants to talk," she shrugged.

"About?"

"I don't know..." She trailed off.

After her conversation with Andrew, Mallory couldn't stop thinking about it. He looked vaguely familiar when she first met him, but that was about it. Was it possible that they had before? And if they did indeed meet, then how? Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that they hadn't met in the best of the circumstances but she divulged the fact, even from her own self.

One moment, she would think that she had seen him, at other she almost made herself believe that he was lying. That there was no way, that she had seen Andrew ever before in her whole life. And that is why she almost decided not to go. But the fact was that she couldn't shrug off the strange inkling she felt. She couldn't make herself forget his words.

'You need my help more than you could imagine.'

What was that supposed to mean? She couldn't help but wonder. She needed to know what he was up to. She needed to know why she felt such a compelling need to see him. And even though curiosity killed the cat, she couldn't change her nature. She had to know and that is why she decided to go.

"Hello! You there?" Ben said waving his hand in front of her eyes. "Earth to Mallory."

Mallory blinked repeatedly. Ben was now plopped down at the foot of her bed and was staring directly at her face with a rather confused expression.

"What does he want to talk about, Melly?"

"I don't know," she repeated and then hastily got up. "I think I should get going. It's almost six."

"You will wear that?" Her best friend pointed at her attire.

She grinned with a nod looking down at herself. She was wearing a black baggy sweatshirt with a pair of grey sweat pants. From the corner she picked up her white sneakers and began tying the laces. Once done, she lazily combed her hair and then pulled them up in a rather messy bun and began walking towards the door.

"Mallory," Ben called out from behind, "I know you hate him but even he doesn't deserve that."

"So, what do you suggest, Mr. Jones? What should I wear?" She turned around with a hand on her hips.

"Something a bit more humane?" Ben smirked.

"A cocktail dress, perhaps?" Mallory teased, puckering her lips seductively.

"Maybe a skimpy bikini?"

She scrunched up her nose, "And the pervert is back, fellas."

Ben grinned. "At least wear something that's your size and doesn't look like you borrowed it from your brother."

"Mr. Benjamin Jones, there's a thing called comfort which vain and superficial people like you compromise with. But I am different." She flipped her hair backwards. "That being said, I am going exactly like this."

With an eye roll Ben got up from her place and followed her out of her room saying, "God, save Andrew."

• • •

'The Cookie Jar' was a little café located in the vicinity of Delvinshire High School. And even though, it wasn't very majestic, it was generally bustling with activity. The gate had a small bell which chimed whenever someone entered. Inside, the wooden walls were covered with retro music posters. The booths comprised of a wooden table with leather seats. The displays were piled with all sorts of cookies, muffins, cakes and some snacks like sandwiches, croissants, pretzels et cetera.

The sweet smell of caffeine lingered in the atmosphere greeting Mallory with a heavenly treat. She ordered a plate of butterscotch cookies and some cappuccino. Once her order was ready, she picked up the tray and slipped inside the far end booth. Tapping her fingers impatiently on the wooden table, she picked up her cup of coffee and began slurping it.

'6:32 PM.' Her cellphone screen read and still there was no sign of her companion. With a sigh she wondered why was it so hard for people to be punctual. She almost considered leaving but it was only her curiousity and the warm smell of chocolate which were urging her to hold on lest she would have left long time ago.

"Hi," Andrew said nonchalantly slipping into the seat opposite to her.

"You are late," Mallory said, her disapproval evident in her tone.

"I know. I was busy." Andrew muttered. "Anyway, so tell me everything. Start from the beginning and spare no details."

"Woah, you really don't beat around the bush. Seriously, this aura of confidence you have, it's remarkable," She picked up a cookie and but into it.

He narrowed his eyes, "I am not here to chit chat, you kn--"

"What makes you think I will tell you anything about myself?" She interrupted and then timidly added, "Not that I have anything to hide...And the only reason I came here is to tell you that."

Andrew gazed at her and cocked his head, "I know exactly why you came here. You want to know who I am and what do I want from you. Right?"

Her eyes widened and even though she tried to hide her expression it was evident that he had seen it. He continued seemingly satisfied by the girl's reaction, "I will give you answers, if you do the same."

• • •

"What do you wanna know?" Andrew saw Mallory's hand wrapping around the cup of coffee, her gaze glued to the rising steam.

He stared longingly at it too, wanting to get some caffeine in his system. He had had a nightmare again and didn't get more than two hours of sleep the previous night. That is why, he took a nap after school but ended up oversleeping and hence late to his meeting with the girl. He stifled a yawn envying her coffee. He'd have it soon. But for now he had to focus on the problem at hand.

"First, I want to make sure that I am talking to the right person," he said after momentary silence.

"Okay...and how would y--"

She was evidently confused. But he didn't have time for sweet reassurances. He cut straight to the chase, "Have you ever seen me before?"

"I told you, I haven't," she replied almost reflexively.

"Okay, I will tell you something. Tell me, if it rings a bell?" He was going to try a psychological trick, something he had learned at the academy.

If he were to believe his intuition, then Mallory wasn't lying about not remembering him. Her brain must have suppressed the memory or she simply didn't recognize him anymore. Whatever it was, he was about to find out.

"Should I begin?"

She nodded.

"An abandoned building surrounded by armed men. There were rooms rooms with girls lying...h-half naked," Andrew stuttered whilst he relived his nightmares.

He slowly whispered every word letting it all sink in whilst focusing his gaze on his shaking hands folded on the table. When he looked up he saw that her eyes had glazed over. Like a psychic having a vision, she was lost in her own brain, only she didn't see the future, she saw the past. To him it was evident that both of were together reliving their own nightmares.

"A girl, blonde hair, black eyes..." He paused to take a look at the brunette sitting in front of him.

The contrast in the image in his mind and the one sitting in front of him was excruciating. The blonde girl was frail and broken, the brunette looked strong and happy, at least she seemed a while ago. And maybe that was the reason that he found himself praying that the blonde and the brunette turn out to be different girls. For the first time in his life he wanted to be wrong.

Only he wasn't.

He wasn't wrong.

"A young boy stood at the door and the girl said 'Help' an--"

Mallory gasped, a lone tear rolled down her cheek, "'I will come back', he had said only he didn't. I waited, I waited for hours for him, but he didn't come. He promised me. I took the worse beating that day, in the hope that I would be saved...but he lied..." She trailed off.

Andrew looked at his companion but his entire focus was stolen by her eyes. They held the same hurt, the same longing he had seen in them years ago. The girl who had accused her of killing her over and over again in his nightmares was in fact alive. The eyes which haunted him for years, the face he thought he would never see again, laid right in front of him.

"Mallory..." He placed his hand on hers. Never did he ever had the urge to comfort someone in a way he wanted to confront her then. But he couldn't, because he knew that the girl was somewhere far away, reliving agonizing memories in a grisly world, much like his own.

Unexpectedly, he heard another gasp.

"It was you," the girl hissed vehemently wiping away her tears. "The boy w-who promised me, it was you..."

An accusing finger was pointed at him much like in his dreams. By then they had started to attract the attention of a couple of people sitting in the adjacent booth. Andrew promptly ignored the inquisitive looks of people and turned her attention back to Mallory.

"I would have escaped, you know." She sniffled. "I had a plan. But no! You had to barge in and give me hope. False hope. And then they took us away. Because of you."

"I know," he whispered.

For years, he condemned himself, he incriminated himself for his folly. It was because of his misjudgements, because of his sheer idiosyncrasy that those girls couldn't receive help. They would have been saved from any future horrors if he hadn't taken that irrational decision. But he did. He was the culprit.

He was her culprit.

He saw the girl looking at him in contempt. But a moment later her expression relaxed a little. He could only assume that it was because she realized that he was hurt. Even in her fury, she concealed her sentiments for him. It was hard for him to keep up with his tough facade anymore when all he wanted was to apologize profusely. But he couldn't, he couldn't allow himself to feel.

After all, sentiments were a defect found in the losing side.

Andrew collected himself, regaining his composure, "So, how did you even end there in the first place."

• • •

Mallory took a sip of her coffee, cringing at the taste. It had been sitting untouched on the table for a while and had lost the warmth. It was cold and bland.

"Oh, I love hanging out there," she said pinching the bridge of his nose. "What do you think? Obviously, I was taken."

"How did it hap--"

All of a sudden, his cellphone began ringing in his pocket, cutting him off. He took it out and mouthed, "Excuse me for a second."

She nodded.

"Yeah..." he began. "RIGHT NOW? --Okay -- No, I was not doing anything imp -- Yeah, yeah, I am coming," he tapped the end button rather forcefully.

"I need to go," He said shuffling out of the seat.

"But, wait. At least complete the conversation. Why were you there? Who the hell are you, Andrew?" She said holding his hand.

"I really have to go," he turned around. "I will talk to you tomorrow."

"You were the one who called me and now you are walking out on me. Seriously?" She said disapproval clear in her voice. She got up too and began moving with him trying to keep up with his long strides.

The bell of the door chimed as the duo exited.

"Mallory Millington, stop following me," he said rather dismissively.

"Oh, I would; until you complete this conversation."

"I'll say it once loud and clear. Do. Not. Follow. Me." He said and stormed off to the nearest alley.

Mallory gaped, standing in the middle of the street as she saw his receding back. She was furious. Who the hell did he think he was? Storming out on her like that. She was no pushover. No one could tell her what to do. And maybe that's why she did exactly what he asked her not to do. He followed him through the dingy alley. Once again she struggled to stealthily walk behind him keeping up with the sharp twist and turns, he took.

Who was he? Why did he come to that place all those years ago? Her mind was boggled by the number of questions that ran around in her mind. It was pandemonium, it was chaos. And she would do anything to get rid of it. Curiosity was gnawing at her brain, turning it inside out.

Her train of thought stopped as she heard voices and whispers from an alley nearby. She stopped for a moment as she heard them talking. And what they were saying made shivers run down her spine. Their words made her blood cold and she couldn't seem to move ahead. She had stopped dead in tracks, rooted to the spot.

"Let's kill him," A heavy masculine voice declared. "He betrayed us."

"Let's take him to master?" Another hushed whisper suggested.

"Where are the others?" Someone asked.

"They are coming," came the reply.

There was momentary silence where she waited in anticipation for something to happen. What had she done? She slapped her forehead as she tried to move back as inconspicuously as possible. She looked around for any trace of Andrew but obviously she had lost him.

Suddenly she heard footsteps behind her. Her knees turned into jelly as she realized what was happening. The opening in the lane was occupied by some criminals and some others were making their way right towards where she was standing.

She was stuck in an ugly middle position. She could neither go forward nor could she recede backwards. She was trapped. And so she did the only thing she thought could be done. Forgetting about being inconspicuous, she dashed to the small passage which led to a better lit area wishing to end up at the main road.

"Someone is here," came a voice.

"Let's get them." Another voice joined.

She looked behind her and heard footsteps. She didn't need to be a genius to figure out that they were coming in her direction. She looked ahead at the faint glow of the street light; it was still a significant distance away. She knew that she couldn't outrun them, they'd capture her long before she would escape.

And so she did the next best thing to keep herself safe. Or she thought it was safe. She took a sharp left and sprinted to a narrower passage which led to a rather dark area. Once she thought that she was substantially deep in the darkness, she turned around to see the mouth of the passage whilst slowly backing away deeper wishing the shadows would hide her.

The group of men, stood right in front of the passage looking around. When one of them spotted her, he yelled, "There, I cans ee someone!"

Before she knew it, they began sprinting in her direction as she blindly dashed through the unfamiliar nooks and corners. She could hear them behind her, she knew they were closing in on her. And her fear was proved correct when a hand was slapped over her mouth roughly shoving her in the wall.

Any moment the companions of the man who had captured her would catch up too and she shuddered at what would happen next. Would they kill her? And as her tormentor put his lips on her neck right below her ear, her eyes widened realizing what was happening. Whilst two hands reached down to her hips and then upwards feeling her up, she realized that there were fates worse then death.

Immediately, snapping out of her stupor she began struggling. She fisted her hand and punched the man in his stomach. A groan escaped his lips. All she had to do was to get rid of the iron grip and she could run, she would run as fast as she could, away from everything. She reassured herself.

But when she heard the next words, she froze. Not because of the intensity of the tone, but because she knew the owner of the voice, she knew who her captor was.

"Stop struggling," Her tormentor demanded.

And then she did something she knew she would regret, she punched him, right on his face. "Don't tell me what to do!"

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Hit that little star if you liked this chapter.

Hi there lovely readers!

So I updated again, because I love you people. ;)

Thoughts on the chapter? Who's this guy? And what do you think of Melly? ;)

What did you think of Ben and Mallory in the beginning? Frankly, Ben is probably my favorite character in this book. He's just amazing. Did you like their conversation? Would you go to a "date" in sweatpants? Comfort of style? ;)

What did you think of young Andrew's mistake? Why was he even there at the first place? Something oughta be fishy? What about Mallory? Was she stupid to follow him or is her curiousity justified? And finally who is this captor? What do you think happened to Mallory in the past?

Go ahead, comment your theories, they are always fun to read.

Don't forget to vote, comment and share. Now, I'll shut up.

See ya people sooooon.

-Ridhima ☺