25: With Masks of Emptiness

"I'm sure it'll be fine." Sam was assuring me, fingers kneading my hair and eyes gentle as they gazed down at me. For once I was the one laying in his lap, feet propped up on the arm of the couch, and cheeks softly flushed by the heat of the moment.

"Or it will go horrifically wrong." I mustered up a sarcastic smile, masking the genuine fear tugging at my thoughts with an uncaring demeanor. If only it was true. Things would have been a lot easier if our day could end with Sam's hand in my hair and my head in his lap. Instead we had to go meet up with a group of crazed psychos with a particular love for ruining the lives of teenagers. Maybe we were soulmates, since we both managed to get thrown into the most bizarre and unlucky scenario.

How romantic.

"Or it won't." Sam said again, tone a bit more firm. "Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens, remember?"

"And then there's something about not vowing to do something stupid if you don't know just how awful the consequences are going to be." I pointed out, grabbing the hand he had tangled in my hair and intertwining our fingers.

"I think we both know how awful the consequences can be." He replied quietly.

I sighed, hating that we were both right in our own ways. On one hand, I was right for suggesting that we really didn't know how bad things could get. As terrifying as it was to admit, there were worse fates than being suffocated almost to the point of passing out. There were things worse than knuckles staining Sam's sun-kissed skin.

On the other hand, Sam was right as well. We already survived some of their torture methods. Would they take it further? It was hard to say, even if the pessimistic part of me insisted that it was only plausible that they would. If they relied on shock value, then the shocking acts they did always had to be increasing in stakes in order to stay shocking. And that was a terrible reality. One that I didn't think Sam would want to hear.

"You know what consequences I don't mind?" Sam changed the subject, squeezing my hand and leaning over a bit so that we were closer.

"I couldn't possibly guess." I brushed off those previous thoughts, taking the moment for what it was. A smile twisted my lips.

"I guess I'll have to show you then."

He cupped my cheek, and I propped myself up on my elbows so that the distance between us would be far less annoying to cross. Right as his lips grazed my own, the moment was ruined.

"Sam!" An extremely peppy voice echoed into the home.

Both of us desperately shot away from each other, and I nearly fell off of the couch in my frantic attempt. Without so much as a breath to spare, I managed to get out of his lap and several feet away right as the first person walked in. There wasn't even time to get my phone out or lay back casually. Nor time to fix my hair, though that probably didn't matter much since my hair was always a mess. Even Sam seemed awkwardly sat and unprepared for the sudden presence of his friends.

Caden, of course, was the first one to enter the living room. He was practically skipping with every step, always too energetic and happy for his own good. To my relief, he seemed utterly oblivious to our moment that he just stomped on and destroyed.

"Hello!" He greeted the both of us, Brian and Dennis trailing in behind him. My heart was still in my throat, and I was more stuck on the fact that they all seemed to manifest out of nowhere. How did they even get into the house? Sam always locked the door, and I was so certain that today was no different. The notion left me uneasy.

"Hey." Sam nodded to him, finally seeming to relax a bit. He was lucky that it was Caden who came into the room first, because he would never have noticed tension even if it hit him in the face.

"As you can see, Cade seems to be topped off with a little extra positivity than normal." Dennis said, walking over to the other end of the wraparound couch and plopping down on it haphazardly.

"I thought you'd be the opposite." Sam looked to Caden curiously.

"I'm trying to manifest an optimistic ending." Caden told him as though it was obvious.

"Good luck with that." I mumbled.

He turned his gaze to me, squinting his eyes as he scrutinized me. "Thank you, Sawyer. And I will pretend that I didn't hear your sarcasm."

That caused Sam to crack a grin. "You'd have to ignore everything he ever said if you wanted to ignore the sarcasm."

"It isn't the only way I talk." I furrowed my brow. When they all just stared at me, I rolled my eyes. "It's just how I mostly talk."

"I think it's funny most of the time." Caden said. "Just not when I'm already working extra hard to be positive, because none of you ever seem to try. I have to do all the heavy lifting myself."

Sam smiled, standing up from the couch. "And you're doing a great job at it. But it's time to head out."

"Already?" Caden's voice was suddenly small, and the room felt all too big.

Already? Already? Already? The weak way he said it made a home inside me. Was this going to end well? Already? Or were we walking into our own living hell. Already? I wanted nothing more than to crawl back into Sam's lap and let him pet my hair again. That was only moments before, and yet it would feel impossible far away the second we made it to our destination.

"Yeah, already." Sam nodded, and Dennis and I stood as well.

My feet seemed to be dragging beneath me as I trudged behind everyone towards the front door. I would be lying if I pretended that I wasn't scared of those druggies. Because in all honesty, they scared me shitless. I was petrified of them and what they could do to me. Or Sam. Hell, even Sam's friends.

I automatically went towards Sam's car, relieved when Dennis followed Brian and Caden instead. It left me curious, though, because last time Sam had to convince him not to come in the car with us. Did he know something?

As soon as Sam joined me, I inquired. "How come Dennis didn't even try to go in your car?"

"Remember last time? When I had that long talk with him before we left?" Sam explained. I nodded. "I made him think that I had to give you a pep talk so that you'd listen to what I said, otherwise you might try to sabotage everything."

"That's awful." I scowled. He made me sound like a complete asshole.

"It is, but it worked. When he finds out about what's really going on, he'll know that I was lying. So you won't look like an awful person in the end." He shrugged innocently at me, pulling out of his driveway with Brian's car not too far behind.

"Alright, then here's a better question. How the hell did they get into your house? I watched you lock the door."

That caused his smile to soften a bit, eyes trained on the road. "Cade has a key."

"What? Why?"

"His dad is an asshole, so I gave him a key to my house. In case he needs to get out of there when I'm not home to let him in." Sam sighed. That left me curious. I never would have known that Caden didn't have a good relationship with his parents, because he was so unbelievably happy all the time. And of course Sam would go above and beyond to look after him. He was always thinking about his loved ones before he even considered himself.

"Caden didn't need to use it earlier, and yet he still did." I pointed out.

"Yeah, he sometimes uses it just for the hell of it."

"That's going to bite you in the ass one day."

"Trust me, it keeps me awake at night." He laughed.

With that, I turned on his music and we both fell into a comfortable silence. Well, as comfortable as one could be while still knowing where we were headed. But I tried to not let my worry make Sam feel worse than he already did. He didn't need my constant stress, because I knew that he felt his own all the same.

All too soon Jack of Clubs approached. We pulled into the parking lot, the car coming to a dreaded stop. My hands were already shaking, but I just stuffed them into the pockets of my sweatshirt.

The following few minutes were strenuous, all five of us standing in palpable tension. Until the infamous van parked a few yards from us. The next thing I knew, Drake stood in front of us with his henchman dutifully at his sides. I wondered if he had any idea how much courage it took Sam to face him.

He could have gone to the police from the very start, but he didn't. This was the path Sam chose, and the rest of us blindly entrusted him with our lives. It terrified me just to stand there, but nothing could compare to the weights on Sam's shoulders. Our safety, our lives, were on him. That was a level of pressure I didn't even want to understand. And yet Sam had been feeling it for months, and through it all he managed to stay surprisingly calm. If there was anything I learned from the years of one-sided hatred once spread out between us, Sam had an immaculate poker face.

"Cough it up, rich boy." He immediately said, not even wasting a breath. Which was equal parts relieving and horrifying.

"Here." Sam said after retrieving another bag that was probably filled to the brim with money. He tossed it to Drake, who caught it with ease.

He proceeded to take his sweet time while looking through the contents, face steady as though he was simply having a leisurely trip. He pissed me off so damn much, but unfortunately he frightened me more. I had a feeling that Sam & Co. agreed with me on that front.

Finally, he lifted his gaze. "This is it?"

"Yeah." Sam firmly replied, eyes narrowed and teeth already finding their way to his lip.

"What did I tell you?" He asked, words harsh.

I snuck glances at the people around me. They were all so unreadable, as if a switch had been flipped and all of the emotion I was used to seeing on their faces disappeared. Replaced only with masks of emptiness. I couldn't be more unnerved than I was, feeling a bit sick to my stomach at what might happen next.

"To mark it up." Sam said, voice surprisingly steady.

"That's what you call this?" He laughed humorlessly, and I felt my stomach drop.

"That's what I call that." He nodded, his face finally taking on a frustrated edge. My heart was beating quickly in my chest, as though I could feel an earthquake about to shake our lives. Something was going to happen. I tried to brush the feeling off, but it was only festering further.

"Bullshit." Drake leered, holding the bag a bit higher. As if we couldn't already see it. "This isn't nearly enough."

"It's more than enough." Sam snapped.

"And who determines that?" He tilted his head, baring his teeth like a hungry dog.

"You told me to mark it up, so I did."

"And it's not enough." He drawled, handing the bag off to one of his minions.

I watched Sam swallow his anger, as though it was taking an unmatched amount of patience to get the following words out of his throat without screaming at him. "When will it ever be?"

"Getting brave, rich boy?" Drake took a step forward. Sam's friends clearly expected the worst because of it, all three of them stepping towards Sam. Was I a bad boyfriend for not following their movement? My feet seemed to be glued to the pavement, too petrified by what was happening to even decide what to do.

"Just trying to figure it out." Sam let out a slow breath, gaze unwavering as he stared Drake down. Sam was tall, taller than me and his friends. But Drake was practically a giant. He towered over him effortlessly, bone structure broad and muscles trained. It was laughable, really. How young and minuscule we all appeared in comparison.

Again, he took another step forward. Dennis was right at Sam's side, staring daggers at Drake. As if that would intimidate anyone. He was the bulkiest out of us all, but that didn't mean it was enough. Caden and Brian were flanking them, leaving me a few steps behind everyone else. I thought that maybe I should get closer, but I wasn't sure that I would be any safer while directly in the potential fray about to break out.

"You just don't seem to get it." Drake was close enough to reach out and grab the front of Sam's shirt. To mark his face once more. As though he wanted nothing more than to leave Sam with a reminder every time he looked in the mirror. And all I could think was how did any of this happen? This was the sort of thing that only ever happened in stupid movies or shows. But here we all stood, counting the seconds until our survival odds depleted until they were nothing at all.

"Then explain it to me." Sam was testing his luck. He was pissed. More pissed than I had ever seen him before.

"Okay." Drake said simply. The next few things happened too fast.

His eyes flitted past Sam. Past Dennis and Caden and Brian. Where they landed directly on me, who stood paces away from the rest of them. And I felt so fucking stupid for thinking my distance from him was a better idea than staying next to Sam.

I didn't have a moment to think. And there sure as hell wasn't a moment for Sam or his friends to get to me.

Someone grabbed me from behind, pulling me backwards sharply. It took me a moment to even react, the movement too sudden for my brain to process it. As soon as I did, I struggled to break out of their grasp. Everything seemed to dissolve into chaos as Sam instantly tried to protect me. Unlike me, he wasn't a coward. Even when some of Drake's men met him halfway, he didn't cease his fight.

The rest of Sam & Co. began their pursuits as well. Dennis trying to assist Sam. Caden and Brian trying to help me. Of course, either option was a fruitless endeavor. There were more of them, and they were simply stronger than we were. Because we were all just kids masquerading as confident adults. But it was never enough to stand our ground.

I tried to kick at the person who had a death grip on me, but it seemed so pointless. I remembered every detail of how to punch that Sam went out of his way to teach me. However, what did it matter when someone had a hold of both of my arms? Someone who was clearly bigger and stronger than I could ever dream of being? What was I supposed to do?

They kept dragging me, only staggering slightly when I managed to push against them just hard enough to nearly break free. Or maybe they were just fucking with me. Giving me the illusion of false hope. Toying with me for the entertainment they so desired. Why else would they be in that business if not to play with their victims?

Next thing I knew, I was pulled all the way to where Drake stood. He offered me a sick grin before he took the place of the previous person. I already couldn't breathe, and all he had done was grab my arms behind my back. I couldn't tell if I was having a panic attack or asthma attack, or maybe even both. Was he going to choke me again? Would he kill me this time?

Instead of wrapping his arm around my throat, he grabbed a fistful of my hair with one hand, the other binding my wrists together, and he pushed me down against the asphalt. All the way until my cheek was pressed into the harsh, uneven surface. As though coming back to my senses just a bit, I realized that words were being spent that whole time. I tried to regain control of my lungs, counting the seconds between breaths.

"I gave you the fucking money!" Sam screamed at him, eyes finding mine. Somehow I had a perfect view of where he stood. There were people holding him back, much like the last time we were put into a disturbingly similar situation. Everyone was preoccupied, being grabbed at or punched. Throwing punches of their own. I watched as someone went after Brian, but only to be stopped short by Caden clinging onto his back. Giving Brian just enough time to hit him across the face. Dennis was going for the people holding Sam.

"You want everything to be on your terms." Drake spoke calmly, his knee pressing into my back. Too much pressure, and he would crack my ribs. "But that just isn't how this works."

"Everything is on your fucking terms. I marked up the amount of money I gave you! I've done everything you've told me!" Sam helplessly yelled at him, and even from the distance between us, I could see him shaking with rage.

"But you complain whenever I give you more rules." He was completely deranged. That was the worst part. No matter how much reason or logic Sam used, Drake was never going to adhere to it. He was fucking psychotic, it was as simple as that. "That doesn't sound like compliance."

"Just let him go." Sam tried. He kneed one of the druggies holding him in the groin, earning him a small attempt at freedom.

In response, Drake applied more pressure to my back and the grip he had in my hair was used to press my face hard into the ground. I hissed at the sudden pain, my breath coming in short pants. It was already becoming difficult to breathe, and I could feel the bumps in the asphalt scraping into my weak flesh. It burned.

"I don't think I will." Drake told him, his tone almost amused.

"What do you want me to do, then?" Sam stopped his defiance, and it aches me to see his flame die. In that moment he was just a desperate victim, wanting nothing more than for this nightmare to end. As though they were a unit, his friends all slowly stilled themselves as well. Simply waiting to see what happened next. It was astounding to see just how much they trusted Sam.

"Hmm, let me think about that." Drake thought aloud, pushing my head down even harsher. I fought to not cry out, grimacing at the searing pain shooting from my temple and cheek. Where I knew there would be blood. Where I knew he made his mark on me, just as he did all of us. Like our scars were his trophies.

Sam was panting, as if it took everything within him to keep from screaming or fighting. I was glad he didn't, because it would have made things even worse. I was lightheaded from the air my body craved. From the rush of pain flooding my nerves.

"I think you'd better listen to me a little closer." I could feel his breath on my cheek as he leaned down. He was torturing Sam. He was testing Sam's newfound restraint. From the tension in Sam's jaw, I knew it wasn't easy for him to stay so still. "Does this bother you?"

Sam said nothing.

"Good." Drake then removed his knee from my back, allowing me to breathe easier. But fuck, I still needed my inhaler. "Because this will be a lot worse next time. Understand?"

Sam slowly nodded.

That didn't appease Drake, because he tightened his grip on my hair significantly, forcing me much harder into the asphalt. It was such a sudden and forceful action that I felt my vision blur for a moment. It felt like he could crush my skull into the ground if he wanted to. Or possibly rip the flesh from it just by shoving me a little bit harder. "Understand?"

"Yes!" Sam forced out, voice shaking. "I understand!"

There was a moment of hesitation, leaving me to fight for consciousness. I was so certain that he was going to continue. To go until I was permanently disfigured or worse — dead. Fortunately, Drake released a pleased, "Good."

Then he finally let go of me.

A few seconds passed. I didn't move, not yet. Not until I was sure that he was far away from me. As soon as his henchman removed their grips on Sam, he ran to my side.

He was on his knees next to me, reaching a hand out as if to touch me. But he didn't. I pushed myself up, feeling warm liquid cascading down the side of my face. I didn't even want to know what I looked like. What was I going to tell people? Now that I was closer to Sam and my vision was a little less blurry, I could see where he had been hit. I could see where his lip was split. Was that his own doing? Or was it them?

"Sawyer, are you okay?" That came from Caden, because Sam was still just sitting there. Staring at me, not knowing what to do with himself. Caden grabbed my shoulder, a bruise already forming on his cheek. "Can you breathe?"

It occurred to me that I was still breathing raggedly. I shook my head at Caden, not trusting myself to get the correct words out.

"His inhaler." Sam mumbled quietly, as though it was just for him to hear. Then he quickly got back to his feet, running to his car. A minute later, and he handed me the inhaler he insisted I keep in his car in case we ran into another problem like the one on the first day we kissed.

I took it gratefully, not wasting a moment before allowing the medicine to fill my chest. To give me control over my body once more.

Then silence stretched onward. Consuming us. Letting us sit in what just happened.

Finally, Dennis broke it. "Is everyone okay?"

Brian nodded. Caden let out a quiet, "Yeah."

I just avoided his gaze.

We all looked at Sam, who didn't seem to be entirely with us. His eyes were fixated on the ground, words distant as he answered, "Yeah, I'm okay."

None of us believed him.

No matter how much we wanted to.

•O•O•