Page 4 of Pastel Kisses

We move fast, sprinting past the crowd, and piling into the car like our lives depend on it—because at this moment, hers just might.

Liam drives like a bat out of hell, knuckles white on the wheel, while Kam and Lennox sit tensely, each of us too on edge to fill the silence with empty reassurances.

All I can do is stare at my phone, silently praying that when we get there, we’ll find her curled up in bed, her phone forgotten on silent.

Because if we don’t—

I shove that thought down, focusing on the road ahead.

Just hold on, Kitten. We’re coming.

CHAPTER TWO

Kamden

The car is silent, but the energy inside it is anything but calm. It’s like a goddamn live wire—frantic, sparking, threatening to snap at any second.

Every one of us is on edge, tension coiling so thick it makes the air feel suffocating. Even the steady hum of the tires against the pavement does nothing to mask the pressure mounting inside the car.

Liam grips the steering wheel like it’s his only lifeline, his knuckles white, his jaw tight. He’s got the speedometer pushed past reckless, but none of us say a damn word about it. If anything, I want him to go faster.

I sit in the back, leg bouncing, stomach twisted into knots so tight they feel like they might strangle me from the inside.

Jaxton is next to me, eerily quiet, his head resting back against the seat, his fingers drumming an uneven rhythm against his knee. It’s a deceptive kind of stillness—the kind that speaks volumes about the storm brewing beneath his cool exterior.

Lennox is in the passenger seat, his knee bouncing like a fucking jackhammer, his fingers tapping out a pattern against his thigh that I recognize instantly. Counting. He always does that when his anxiety spikes—five taps on the thigh, pause, five more. It’s his way of grounding himself.

And fuck, I get it.

I don’t think any of us have taken a proper breath since the moment we realized Avery wasn’t answering.

Because something’s wrong.

I feel it in my goddamn bones.

She wouldn’t just ignore us—not after sending that text. She wouldn’t turn her phone off, not unless she was dead asleep, and we all know she doesn’t sleep that deep when she’s alone.

And the flowers? The fucking flowers?

None of us sent them.

None of us wrote a note.

So, who the fuck did?

The pit in my stomach churns, dark and ugly, and I know every single one of us is thinking the same thing.

Lennox suddenly exhales sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose before dragging his hand down his face.

Liam glances at him quickly before snapping his eyes back to the road. “You good, Lenn?”

Lennox lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Not even a little bit.”

Jaxton speaks for the first time in miles, his voice low but steady. “Thinking about Becca?”

Lennox doesn’t answer at first, but we don’t need him to. We know. The incident has haunted him more than he lets on.

His knee stops bouncing, but his fingers tighten into fists. “It’s too familiar,” he mutters, voice rough.

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