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  Fade

  Haley Ladawn

  Copyright © 2017 by Haley Ladawn.

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  This book is published by Inkitt – Join now to read and discover free upcoming bestsellers!

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1: Playing Dead

  Chapter 2: One Night Stand

  Chapter 3: The Bad Guy

  Chapter 4: Hello Kitty

  Chapter 5: I’m Coming For You

  Chapter 6: Freak Out

  Chapter 7: Lady Killer

  Chapter 8: Sassy and Trashy

  Chapter 9: I Woke Up Like This

  Chapter 10: Bang Bang

  Chapter 11: Friendly Fire

  Chapter 12: Kiss Me or Kill Me

  Chapter 13: Loose Lips

  Chapter 14: Together Once Again

  Chapter 15: Taste Test

  Chapter 16: Bad News

  Chapter 17: Behind Enemy Lines

  Chapter 18: Ice Scream, I Scream

  Chapter 19: Two-faced

  Chapter 20: Bubbles

  Chapter 21: Bad Intentions

  Chapter 22: Daddy Issues

  Chapter 23: Give and Take

  Chapter 24: Alien Invasion

  Chapter 25: Hide-and-Seek

  Chapter 26: Promises

  Chapter 27: Truth or Dare

  Chapter 28: Falling

  Chapter 29: Twist of Fate

  Chapter 30: Bloodlust

  Chapter 31: Kill Them with Kindness

  Chapter 32: With or Without You

  Chapter 33: Fake Your Death

  Chapter 34: Love Me Like You Hate Me

  Chapter 35: Baby Mama Drama

  Chapter 36: The End of All Things

  Chapter 1: Playing Dead

  I stood with my lips brushing against the cool surface of the microphone. I tightened my grip around it, feeling the butterflies soar in my stomach. Not only was it enough to excite me, but also enough to make me feel sick.

  This was the first time I’d ever performed in front of an actual audience. I usually sang in the shower with an audience of just one. A yellow rubber ducky that had soulless, black eyes. At least he didn’t judge me, but he had never given me a round of applause either.

  “Testing! One, two, three.” I whispered into the microphone to ensure that it was working. My heavy breath brushed against it, echoing through the grim room. “My name is Lilith, but you can call me Lily! This is my first time—”

  “You’re a virgin?” A man that looked like a wildebeest interrupted me, causing my stomach to turn upside down.

  He looked drunker than hell, so I excused his actions, even though I wanted to throw the microphone at his face. I’d been warned about the kind of people that gathered at River’s Rock House. Alcoholics, drug abusers and dealers, criminals, mobsters, and the occasional haggler.

  “Don’t listen to him, Silly Lily!” Connor, my boyfriend, replied from across the small stage. He was tuning his acoustic guitar at the last minute, but I could see the underlying support shining through his hazel eyes. The two of us had always wanted to perform in front of people, even if it meant that we had to make complete fools out of ourselves.

  He held a guitar pick in his mouth as he joined me on the compact stage. He somehow managed to make a few kissy faces at me, causing my cheeks to redden with unwarranted embarrassment. I was in love with a boy who could barely play the guitar. Maybe he couldn’t play guitar strings that well, but he was pulling on my heart strings. What was there to be embarrassed about?

  “We can do this. I promise I won’t mess up any chords as long as you don’t mess up any notes,” he whispered to me.

  “Deal.” I smiled, holding out my hand. He sidestepped me, giving me a hug, instead of a handshake. I laughed as I wrapped my arms around him, returning his sweet but unexpected gesture. “Thank you for being here. I couldn’t do this without you.”

  “Always.” His lips quirked into a grin and he began strumming the strings on the guitar, playing a melody that was almost as lovely as he was. Only almost.

  I’d been waiting so long for this moment. I was going to sing in front of a real crowd. My heartbeat sped up, and my palms were beginning to get sweaty. I took a breath and began doing the thing I was always afraid of doing— singing. I prayed that it wouldn’t end with people throwing rotten tomatoes at me, or booing me off stage.

  As I sang the lyrics, Connor and I wrote together one night in his parents’ basement, my curiosity got the best of me. I had to know what people were thinking, so I looked out at the crowd to see their reactions. All of them were basked in dim lighting and gray cigarette smoke.

  I could see the tall silhouettes of a few men and women. Most of the men were wearing ripped jeans and leather vests. I tried to focus on their facial expressions, although it was too hard to see in the faulty lighting. What was bizarre is the fact that several people in the crowd were wearing dark sunglasses.

  Who in the hell wears sunglasses in a bar?

  In the middle of the second verse, there was a cracking sound, and then the lights went dark. Even in the newfound darkness, Connor played the background music perfectly. I continued singing along, unsure of what else to do. I imagined that the lights cutting out was a part of the special effects— or maybe they forgot to pay the electric bill. You never knew with underground places like this.

  Just near the end of the song, the lights shot back on, like hot fireworks blasting through the sky. There was a sizzle as one of the lighting fixtures sparked back to life, causing me to stumble backwards.

  As I tried to catch my balance, I tripped on something cold and heavy, causing me to fall down onto the glossy stage. The cord of the microphone tangled around my body, locking me into place. I expected the crowd to laugh at me, but there was only an eerie silence. I scanned their faces in embarrassment, but I only saw mortified eyes staring back at me.

  They all looked sick to their stomachs.

  Was I that bad at singing? Maybe it was time to rethink another career path.

  I hurriedly yanked the cord from around my legs, cursing underneath my labored breath. A few moments later, I could stand back up on my feet. I’d hoped the crowd’s surprise would die down as the minutes passed, but their eyes were still glossed over in terror. It was really starting to make me nervous.

  “Call 9-1-1, now!” a man with an unkempt beard yelled at the top of his lungs, shattering the uncanny silence.

  What was happening? I felt completely fine. The fall only hurt my ego, not my actual body. I didn’t even have a single bruise or scratch. I glanced around frantically, searching for some sort of explanation. That’s when my eyes connected with what had made me trip only moments ago.

  Lying lifeless on the stage was Connor, with a single gunshot wound to the chest.

  He wasn’t hurt. He was dead… or at least that’s what it looked like. Now, the bearded man wasn’t the only one screaming. I was too.

  My eyes scanned the crowd in a panic, looking for someone to help him. People were already starting to clear out of the venue, leaving him lying there all by himself. No one was going to help, but that’s because it was already too late.

  I heard someone shouting, but their words were muffled at first. Slowly, the words kept getting louder and louder as my surroundings began to become hazy.

  “Get up, kiddo!” A familiar voice ran through my head, relieving me from my terrible nightmare. I tightened my grip around the white comforter, as
I blinked my tired eyes open. “It’s just another bad dream.”

  “It’s not a dream.” I ran my fingers through my tousled red hair, fighting back a suppressed yawn. “It’s a real memory of something that happened. It’s not pretend.”

  “I didn’t mean that it was.” My mother gave me a supportive smile, but it didn’t make me feel any better about the situation. If only sympathy and pity could resurrect the dead, many people would still be alive. “It’s been two years and I know how you get around the anniversary of his death.”

  “Don’t be my therapist.” I stifled an ironic laugh, getting up from the bed. My head spun from getting up too fast, causing me to lean on my wooden dresser for support. “I already have Elisa for that. She judges me enough for the both of us. I don’t need you judging me, too.”

  “I’m not judging you.” She raised her eyebrows, crossing her arms in an “I’m offended that you would say that” fashion. “I’m observing you. I just want to know that you’ve come to terms with everything. I want to know that you’re doing okay, Lily.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” I bit down on my bottom lip, walking toward the bulletin board that was lined with pictures from my childhood and other sentiments. The photos of Connor left a sour taste in my mouth, along with the photos of my father. A man who was more like a ghost than anything else. “I’m really fine. I just need to dive into a book with a cup of green tea in my hands.”

  “Well, I may have something for you to read right here.” Her gray eyes brightened with excitement as her thin lips curved into a full-on smile. It was nice how my mom could go from being serious too silly in the matter of ten seconds, but it was also like whiplash sometimes. She had more energy than I did half the time.

  “Did you already go to bookstore?” I creased my thin eyebrows, putting my hair up in a disastrous bun. Strands were sticking out in every direction, but I didn’t really care. It wasn’t like I was planning on seeing anyone that day. I didn’t like to do anything on the anniversary of Connor’s death. It just seemed wrong to live while he was withering away in the ground. “I needed to get some books and a job application. I need to do something, so I can help out around here.”

  “You know I never go to the bookstore without you. If I did, I would never hear the end of it.” The eagerness in her eyes didn’t seem to die down at all. She moved her hands from behind her back, revealing a small blue letter with my name written across it in velvet ink.

  “It’s not my birthday.” I tucked a piece of loose hair behind my ear, letting my lips curl into a small smile. “That better not be a gift of any kind. I won’t accept it. You know how I am.”

  “Yes, I know how you are, but it’s not a gift.” She walked closer to me, handing me the blue envelope eagerly. “It’s something a lot better than that. It’s an invitation!”

  “Great.” I took the letter into my hand, twirling it around. “Whose birthday party did I get invited to this time?”

  “It’s not that kind of invitation.” My mom pursed her lips, looking impatient. “Hurry up and open it! It’s something special.”

  “If this isn’t my acceptance letter to Hogwarts,” I began peeling it open. “I’m going to be very disappointed. I mean, it’s already several years late.”

  My mom rolled her eyes as she watched me carefully open the envelope. Whatever was inside, it had to be amazing. Maybe we got some free coupons or something. My mom was always an avid couponer, trying to save as much money as she possibly could. We didn’t have a lot of money, but she managed to save up a good amount for us to survive on.

  As I peeled the envelope back, I cut my finger on the ridges of it. My finger shot to my mouth, trying to stop the blood before I got the chance to see it. I was squeamish around blood ever since the whole thing that happened with Connor. It reminded me too much of him… and his mangled body. It was an image I could never get out of my head no matter how hard I tried.

  After a few seconds of prying and ripping at the paper, I got the blue envelope separated from the actual letter that was buried deep inside it. The first thing I noticed was a decorative S that was in a circular emblem on the front of the crisp, white sheet. It wasn’t until I saw the curved C that I realized where this little paper had come from. Santoro Court College.

  Santoro Court was a prestigious private school that was on the outskirts of Burlington, Vermont. A small, cold town nestled in between Canada and the United States. It was a few hours outside of New York City.

  Our town sat in between the mountains that were boarded by Burlington Bay. That made for several scenic views, but Santoro Court was the most beautiful architectural building in our town. It reminded me of the mesmerizing skyscrapers in the neighboring state of New York. It added a little something special to our small town.

  “What would they want with me?” I cocked my head back to look at my mother, as if she could answer my question. “I didn’t apply there. It’s too expensive and I’m not smart enough to get into college.”

  “Don’t say things like that. Read it and see, Lily!” She was practically jumping up and down with excitement. My mom needed to take a chill pill or two. It was probably just an invite to check out the campus. They did that a lot, trying to reel people into their grasp, so they could nickel and dime them to death.

  I unfolded the letter quickly, ready to get this whole thing over with.

  Dear Lilith James,

  Upon recommendation, we have decided to schedule you an interview for our university’s internship program. Our internship program is the highest rated program in the state of Vermont. Upon acceptance, you will also receive compensation for your work and a full scholarship to our university. Students participating in our internship program must sign a contractual agreement, which states all students must work for an entire year. This contract cannot be broken under any circumstances, or the above promises will no longer be guaranteed.

  We hope you consider this amazing offer! Enclosed below is the time and place of your interview. We hope to see you there!

  Sincerely,

  Margo Wallace

  Director of Employment

  The paper fell out of my hands, but my mom was quick to swoop it up before it hit the ground.

  “Wait just a second.” I clasped my chest, feeling my own heart pounding with newfound excitement. Could this really be true? “Is this a scam?”

  “No!” My mom erupted with enthusiasm radiating in her voice. She was really jumping up and down now, almost hitting the ceiling. Unknowingly, I joined her, too. We shook the whole house from all our weight hammering against the floor.

  “Why didn’t you tell me that you applied for this program?” my mother asked insistently.

  “I didn’t apply for it.” My smile couldn’t be tamed. “I thought you did it for me.”

  “It wasn’t me, honey.” She shrugged, biting down a laugh. Her gray eyes seemed so alive with happiness. “Maybe it was a gift from God!”

  It seemed like a present sent from the heavens, but I didn’t realize it was fast tracked from Hell.

  Chapter 2: One Night Stand

  “I’m speechless!” My best friend, Elisa Rhodes, screamed at the top of her lungs. A silver glint of disbelief filled her doe eyes. If crazy had a look, she was the definition of it. Her blonde hair was teased to the sky, and her lips were covered in a wine colored lipstick.

  “If you were really speechless…” I smoothed my hands down the black pencil skirt that fell just above my knees.

  I borrowed it from her for the interview. She was all too happy to give me a makeover— even though I only asked for something to wear. That’s the kind of girl she was.

  “You wouldn’t be talking right now.”

  “There’s a difference between using sass and being an ass.” She laughed, snapping her fingers in my face. They were covered in the same cherry-red nail polish that I was wearing. It was on the verge of being trashy and classy all at the same time. I totally loved it.

 
“Learn the difference before you hurt my feelings!”

  I rolled my eyes, sliding on a pair of three-inch heels. They really didn’t deserve to be called heels, but I couldn’t walk in anything else. I was too much of a klutz for that. Besides, I really didn’t need the extra height anyway. I was only four inches away from being six feet tall.

  I threw on a white tank top while Elisa poked and prodded my auburn hair. She said she was putting it in a bun, but it shouldn’t take twenty minutes to put someone’s hair in a freaking bun.

  “What are you doing to me?” I groaned as she yanked my head back with a powerful force. God, she was pulling it too hard. I probably wasn’t going to have any hair left by the time she was done. “Is this what Daniel meant when he said that you like it rough?”

  “Oh, my God! He said that?” Her hands dropped down to her sides instantly, and I was relieved of the pain. If only it could stay like this. “I thought he liked the handcuffs and the whips. I thought he liked the way I—”

  “Don’t even finish that sentence.” I laughed, shaking my head in embarrassment and revulsion. She was too much sometimes. “I don’t want to hear about your sex life before I go in for a job interview.”

  “Does that mean you want to hear about it later?” She double winked at me, failing to be even remotely sexy. It just looked like she had something in her eye. That’s probably what I looked like when I was trying to flirt with someone. No wonder I was single.

  “No, Elisa!” I squealed, grabbing my small messenger bag from my closet. I threw it over my shoulder quickly, but it came back around and slapped me in the face. That was the kind of luck I’ve always had. “I don’t want to hear about your insane foot fetish.”

  “He told you that, too? Looks like I’m going to be extra rough tonight. Would you turn me into the police if I murdered somebody?”

  Only if there was a huge reward. You know, like $10,000. I wonder if that makes me a bad friend.

  “Of course not.” I draped my arm around her playfully, pulling her into a hug. “I would help you bury the body and hide the evidence.”