Page 39 of Chief's Addiction

As I handed Mason my board, I glanced around the parking lot, expecting to see Beckett trudging across the sand with his battered backpack. But there was no sign of him.

“He’s usually here by now,” I said under my breath as I pulled out my phone and checked the time again. There were no messages, no missed calls.

A knot started to coil in my belly as I remembered the bruises he’d had on him the other day.

Mason’s eyes followed my gaze when I looked back towards the beach path. “You waiting on someone else?”

I nodded as I looked over my shoulder at the empty parking lot. “My other student. Beckett. He’s usually here by now.”

“He might be running late again,” Marley said, a frown on her face as she, too, looked around for any sign of him.

I forced a smile. “Probably just overslept. Let’s get started, and maybe he’ll show up.”

Twenty minutes later, Marley and I were sitting on our boards beyond the break, waiting for the next wave, and Beckett still hadn’t shown up. The sun was just above the horizon, bathing everything in a golden-pink glow. As breathtaking as the view was, it was hard to appreciate when one of my students was missing.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Marley said, paddling closer to me. “Maybe he just forgot.”

I nodded, but we both knew better. Beck never forgot our lessons. They were too important to him.

“Let’s catch a few more waves, then head in,” I suggested, trying to keep things normal for Marley’s sake.

We spent another half hour in the water, but neither of our hearts were in it. Every time I looked back at the shore, I hoped that Beck would be standing there, but he wasn’t.

When we finally trudged back to our gear, Mason was waiting for us, his stance rigid as he scanned the beach with narrowed eyes. He’d clearly picked up on my anxiety.

“Still no sign of your other student?” he asked, handing me a towel.

I shook my head, trying to hide my concern from Marley. “Nope. Must have something else going on today.”

Marley’s phone buzzed, and she pulled it from her bag. “My dad’s here,” she said, chewing on her lip, before she spoke again. “Cora? You’ll let me know if you hear from Beck, right?”

“Of course,” I promised, giving her a quick hug. “Don’t worry, I’m sure he’s fine.”

She nodded, but the worry in her eyes mirrored my own. “See you Monday.”

Once Marley was safely in her father’s car and driving away, Chief turned to me with a more serious expression.

“What’s really going on with this kid?”

I sighed, the façade slipping now that Marley was gone. “Beckett’s... different. He’s not like Marley. He doesn’t come from money. He showed up to watch my lessons about six months ago. He’s a foster kid. Thing is, he’s always showing up with these bruises.” I bit my lip, the worry feeling like a lead weight in my stomach.

Mason’s jaw tightened. “Someone’s putting their hands on him?”

“I think so.” My voice cracked. “And it’s not the first time,” I admitted, wrapping my arms around myself despite the growing heat. “I’m pretty sure his foster dad...” I couldn’t bring myself to finish the sentence.

“Where does he stay? Any idea?”

I shook my head. “I’ve asked, but he always dodges the question.”

Mason’s eyes darkened as he pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped the screen a few times. When it started ringing, he put it on speaker.

“What up, Prez?”

“Zero, got you on speaker,” Mason replied, his eyes on me. “Need you to look up an address for a...” He paused, waiting for me to fill in the blank.

“Beckett Reynolds,” I rattled off his full name, a flutter of hope rising in my chest. “He’s seventeen.”

I could hear the clickity-clack of keys on a keyboard through the phone. “Give me a sec... Got it. Beckett Reynolds, currently assigned to the Wilkins foster home on 1824 Eastland Drive. Foster parents are Gerald and Margaret Wilkins.”

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