Page 130 of All the Missing Pieces

RIDLEY

My head feltlike it was full of cotton. No, not just my head, my mouth too. And maybe my ears. I groaned, trying to roll over, but couldn’t.

“Easy, Chaos. I’m right here. Always, remember?”

That voice.

God, I wanted to see the owner of that voice. Some part of my brain recognized it as belonging to the man I loved before I could put a name to it. Because he was so much more than a name. He was the one who made me feel safe, seen, understood.

My eyes flew open, the bright sun making me wince and blink.

“Take it nice and easy,” he murmured, his hands brushing my hair away from my face.

“Colt,” I croaked.

He might be more than a name, but I loved that name too.

“Take it slow. No big movements. You’ve got some stitches.”

I took in more of my surroundings now. Windows with industrial-looking blinds. A faint beeping emanating from a heart monitor. An IV.Hospital.I was in the hospital.

“You’ve been in and out for the past two days,” Colt explained.

And it was then that I saw the weight of that. The dark circles under his eyes. The scruff that had gotten thicker again.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “They had to remove your spleen. There was a rupture. But you’re going to be fine. Just need a few days to recover.”

My brows pulled together, and the action made something on my forehead hurt, like I’d hit my head somehow. That tiny flicker of discomfort sent me hurtling back. The RV. The man I thought I knew. Running through the woods. My sister.

“Sully,” I rasped, a whole different kind of pain sweeping through me.

A mixture of emotions played across Colt’s face. “He’s gone. He’s never going to hurt another soul.”

My chest seized. “Did you—have they—” I wasn’t sure how to phrase what I needed to, but Colt could read me without words.

“The FBI has been going over his RV and a storage unit in Alabama for the past thirty or so hours. He kept journals. Maps. Trophies. It turns out his mother was a high-achieving athlete, blond, beautiful. She walked out on him and his father when he was quite young. And it sounds like his dad filled his head with a lot of opinions on women like that—they were both special and the devil incarnate. But there’s a history of behavioral issues reaching back to when Shawn was in middle school, ones that should’ve been a red flag.”

Nausea swept through me. “Keep going,” I whispered. I needed it all. The Band-Aid ripped off.

“Local law enforcement is searching for twenty-six bodies, the twenty-six he killed out of the thirty-four he victimized.” Colt’s voice was even, calm, but I knew that wasn’t close to how he was feeling.

“He said there were others, but he didn’t keep track.” The memories kept coming back in flashes, grotesque and terrifying snapshots.

Colt’s hands slipped from my face as he straightened. “That’s not entirely true. He took driver’s licenses from all his kills. They’re putting the pieces together. Those families will get their closure.”

My eyes burned but I fought back the tears. “Avery?”

Colt moved back to my side, dropping into the chair at my bedside and taking my hand. “Arizona State Police found remains with a necklace that matched the description you gave.”

A single tear slid down my cheek. “The silver disc with the lacrosse sticks. The one I gave her for high school graduation.”

Colt nodded, lifting my fingers to his lips so that they ghosted along my skin as he spoke. “They’re running tests as quickly as possible, but?—”

“It’s her.” I knew it in my bones, my soul, some part of me shifting. “We’ll get to put her to rest.”

“You’ll get to put her to rest,” Colt echoed.

“Emerson,” I rasped. “Is she okay?”

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