Chapter Twenty Three

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- - - - -

Sam awoke to a blinding light stabbing at her eyes and a violent pounding at the back of her head.

She slowly sat up, painfully and stiffly, and raised a numb hand to her head, gently touching the tender flesh that was causing the pain.

When she brought her hand back in front of her face, there was no blood.

That's odd. What did Candice do?

Sam couldn't remember anything much since the short yet revealing conversation they had had earlier.

I'm going to kill you, Samantha.

What she also didn't understand was why Candice spat her name out, like she was a disgrace to the world, a bitter taste to her mouth.

And what had she ever done to Candice? She didn't even know Candice up until recently.

One thing was for sure, though: She was going to find out very soon.

Unlike before, Candice dumped her in an almost bare room and shut the door, leaving her crumbled on the floor.

Sam was just beginning to take in her surroundings when the door was kicked open.

Candice stood on the other side, a satisfied smirk gracing her lips.

"Well, Samantha, it seems that the time has finally come," she said as she gracefully walked into the room, her men following, looming over her short figure from behind.

Candice walked up to the chair that was in the room, and straddled it, turning it around to face her.

Sam sighed. "The time for answers to my questions?"

Candice lightly shook her head, but not in reply to Sam's question. It was more of a pitiful gesture.

Candice sighed. "Yes. That, of course. But other things I've planned, as well."

Candice clapped her hands and sucked in a breath. "Well then, we might as well get the easier part done first. What is it that you want to ask?"

Sam was taken aback. It seemed that since she was going to kill Sam, it didn't matter how she treated her.

This was the best treatment she'd gotten from Candice since they first met.

Sam stood up from her position, and sat on the makeshift bed instead. It was slightly better than the one Carter had.

During her many days spent alone in the room, Sam had a lot of time to think and piece things together.

And not forgetting the weeks they spent at George and Natt's cabin, too. It still pained her to think of them, so she preferred not to.

"This is a gang?" she motioned to the walls around them, meaning the people she's seen around.

Candice laughed mockingly. "What did you think it was? A tea party?"

Sam ignored Candice's taunting. "That anchor. It's the symbol of your gang, isn't it? And those letters are your initials?"

Candice, for once, looked confused, maybe even shocked.

"Where did you see this?"

"At the warehouse. On the wall."

Candice's eyes widened, but she quickly maintained a black expression.

"The first three are my initials, yes. The second half of the letters are the name of the gang: The Rider's Territory."

Sam chuckled at the gang's name. Even a child could think of that.

She ignored Candice's heated glare

"Those photo's . . . you were in one. The one where I was a baby and there was a woman with blonde hair holding me."

Candice sucked in a breath, her eyes clouding over with the memory.

"Yes," she breathed.

"So what do you want me dead for? What did I do?"

Candice looked her over. "You really don't know? Tell me what you know so far."

"That you had me accidentally with some guy you loved --"

"I still love him," Candice said fiercely.

Sam rolled her eyes. Those were difficult words to get out.

"And he didn't want a baby, so he left. You abused me, blamed me for him leaving. You left me on the road, went to jail, and my Aunt took me in."

"She didn't know why I abused you," Candice waited expectantly for her to explain how she knew that.

Sam sighed. "It was so obvious. I pieced it together."

Candice narrowed her eyes at her. "Is that all?"

Sam nodded.

Candice stood up. "You answered your own question, Samantha."

Realisation dawned on her.

"You still want revenge after everything you've already done?"

Candice cackled.

"I didn't throw you out; I was planning on killing you that day. Someone stole you and left you on the road. They also reported me to the police. I couldn't come find you because I was in prison. But now I'm back, and I've found you. I've waited for this moment for years."

Sam swallowed thickly.

She saw it all now. The pieces were all there.

"In the forest behind my house. That was one of your men. At Forest Hills, you k-killed my friend."

Candice looked at her again. "Yes."

"So that's all you want? Me dead?"

Candice looked her like she was stupid. "Yes."

"That won't bring him back," Sam said slowly.

Candice displayed no emotion.

"I know," she sneered. "He won't ever be back. He wasn't back since so many years ago."

Sam looked at her, confused. "What do you mean?"

Candice clutched her hair tightly, fisting it in her hands.
"I killed him," she whispered softly. "I killed him a bit after he left me. One day in his sleep. I killed him."

For once, Sam didn't know what to say.

Was this woman so far gone that she'd killed the only man she ever loved?

"Then how does it make sense to kill me, too?" Sam wanted to know.

Candice looked up, the misery gone and replaced with a look crazier and madder than usual.

"Why do I need to explain everything to you?" She asked, more to herself than Sam.

Candice scratched her arms roughtly, deeply.

She paced the small room tightly.

"T," one letter, assuming it's one of the guys names, was all Candice needed to say before Sam's vision started going black and she fell unconscious.

- - -

A pounding head.

That's all Sam could focus on once she regained consciousness.

Why aren't I dead?

Sam tried to touch her head, only to find that her hands were tied behind her.

She opened her eyes.

The lighting was so dim that she couldn't see that far from where she was sitting. There were a few men sitting in one corner, talking in hushed voices. Candice stood by a wall, seeming to be unfocused.

Sam looked down at herself. She was sitting in a chair, her hands and feet tied to it.

One of the men saw her awake.

"She's up," his gruff voice was carried around the small room.

Sam didn't recognise anything.

They brought me somewhere else, she realised.

It was logical thinking. Candice knew that Lucas and Carter were set free, and could return to the village-like area with police any time.

Candice woke up from the haze she was in.

"Good."

"You know that my friends know what you all look like. You can't hide away. They'll know you murdered me."

Candice cackled. "You're wrong, darling. You see, you're going to escape, and in your haste of running away, you don't realise that the ground stops and gives way to a small cliff with violent and rough waters below it.

"Now, obviously, there's a chance you might survive, so we're not taking any risks. Everyone else, however, will think that you couldn't survive the fall and died."

Sam raised an eyebrow. She was now getting scared, but didn't let her fear show.

"What's the risk you're not willing to take?"

Candice huffed. "You actually surviving the fall."

"What are you going to do about it?"

Candice tapped her foot impatiently.

"I'm going to kill you, then throw you off the cliff."

"They'll see the marks on my body and track you," Sam tried to find a loop hole.

"I'll strangle you. Or throw a rock at your head. Whatever works," Candice replied quickly.

Sam was stunned by how easily they were discussing her death.

Her heart hammered away in her chest, her fear crawling higher and higher, her throat constricting.

"Well, with that aside . . . ," Candice came closer to where Sam was sitting, a crazy, murderous look in her eye.

Sam shut her eyes tight.

God, please save me.

She thought of Anne and Ian, her cousins who she thought of as siblings, her friends. Chief.

My family doesn't even know where I am. Only my friends do.

Then she remembered that the last thing she said to most of her friends were harsh, hurtful words.

I'm so sorry. So, so sorry. Please forgive me.

Her entire life, her rights and wrongs, her blessing and lessons, her lies and truths, flashed behind her closed lids.

Just as she felt Candice's presence loom over her, there was a loud BANG! and the sound of rocks hitting the ground filled the room.

Her eyes immediately snapped open and, instinctively, her head turned towards the sound.

Chief stood in the front of the police force, gun ready, standing poised, as was the rest of them.

"Put your guns down," he ordered.

Sam looked around, noticing that Candice's men had also grabbed their guns and were standing together defensively.
They were shielding Candice.

They moved back slowly, together, with Candice behind them, safely tucked away.

"Stop moving or we will be forced to shoot," Chief ordered again, tensing as they moved further back.

They didn't listen.

A trigger was pulled, the sound coming from the right, and one of the men fell soon after the sound echoed around the small room.

Candice's men banded around her tighter to fill in for the lost man, still moving backwards.

Sam heard Candice tell them not to shoot, which confused her greatly.

Didn't she want me dead? Shouldn't she hate the fact that her little moment was disturbed by them?

They stopped moving.

Candice crouched down, the men following slightly.

What is she doing?

The door on the other side of the room was opened, a few men walking in.

They had a clear shot at Candice.

"Stop or I'll shoot," Sam recognised the man who spoke as Flynn, Chief's second in command and also Lucas' father.

Candice froze, just as she pulled open a trap door in the ground.

The men around her tried to cover her from there, too, but Chief's men had moved forward and were already pulling men out, cuffing them.

Sam thought that everything seemed too easy. Something wasn't adding up. Candice wouldn't have made it this easy; she would've put up a great fight.

Candice slipped through the trap door, shutting it closed behind her, too fast for any of the men to react.

Then it clicked. Candice only cared for herself; she didn't care if her men got caught. They wouldn't know where she's going, and if they say anything, it wouldn't affect her. She's all on her own.

Conniving and evil.

The men tried to put up a fight only then. Their master was gone, they realised.

But a lot were already captured, with only a little fight in them.

None of the guns had ammunition. Not. One.

- - -

"I'm very disappointed in you, Samantha. I expected better than this," Chief Cross was saying, draping a blanket over her shoulders.

Sam sighed. She glanced at Lucas, who was not so patiently sitting at the back of one of the police cars.

Of course. Lucas had to be at every investigation.

Sam looked down. She couldn't bring herself to meet Chief's eyes.

"I know. I was being foolish."

Candice didn't run far.

Detective Flynn ran after her soon after she'd disappeared through the trap door, only to return to say that she fell off the cliff.

The very same cliff she was going to throw Sam off.

Sam had felt that Candice purposely threw herself off, but she'd remained silent throughout the whole ordeal.

That had been a few hours ago. The men were carried away in the police cars, taken to the station to be questioned, then jailed. Possibly even hung for their crimes.

Chief phoned Ian and Anne. Sam was afraid. She didn't know how they'd react, but she knew it wouldn't be good.

She sighed again.

"I'm sorry for bringing Lucas into this."

"I'm just happy he's not hurt," Chief replied after a moment.

"But as for that boy, Carter, I can't say the same. What were you thinking, m'girl? Wasn't being part of case enough for you?"

Tears welled up in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Chief. I really don't know . . . ," she trailed off, burying her head in her hands.

Chief sighed. "Your, uh, parents are here to take you home," he took her by her shoulders and steered her to their car.

Sam looked up, but didn't meet their gazes. She got into the back of their car.

The ride back was silent, but she could feel their eyes on her, boring through the mirrors.

The regret and the guilt was building up to an extent that she couldn't bear it anymore.

When they reached home, Anne placed her hands on her shoulders and led her into the house.

"Go to your room. Get some sleep." We'll talk in the morning.

Sam nodded and walked upstairs.

She fell face first onto her bed, pulling the covers up and over her.

And she let the tears fall.

- - - - -

Hiii, everyone! How are you?

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