Page 22 of Katie 3

“They are getting ready to arrest him… take Katie and Brad to the lake house,” he says and finishes his coffee.

“They will try to turn her against him in court,” I say.

“They will, I’m sure of it. Go, Carter, hurry.”

I don’t argue. I just head for the stairs, muscles tight and senses prickling. There’s a plan, an unready plan, and we don’t have the time to finish it.

Brad’s door is shut, but I don’t bother knocking. He’s sprawled on his bed, phone in hand, eyes puffy and red rimmed. I glance at the clock: barely six a.m. He blinks at me, then sits up, jaw tight.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, already on edge.

“We’re leaving,” I say. “Pack a bag. At least three days’ worth.”

He looks at me, then past me, as if expecting Dad to appear and clarify. When no one comes, he nods. “Katie?”

I hold up a finger, then cross the hall. Katie’s asleep, lying on her stomach, her hair everywhere. I hate to wake her, but there’s no way around it.

She groans and burrows deeper into the pillow as I sit on the edge of the bed. “Hey. It’s time.”

She lifts her head, disoriented. “What time is it?”

“Time to go,” I say, rubbing her shoulder. “Dad’s orders.”

That makes her frown. “What is it? Did something happen?”

“It’s just… he says you should pack light and hurry.” I help her sit up. She’s still soft, slow, her limbs boneless from sleep and last night’s Henry-induced coma. She blinks at me, then nods.

“Okay,” she says. “Just… can you help?”

I end up packing all three bags—Katie’s, mine, and Brad’s—while Katie gets dressed and Brad showers so long I have to pound on the door. Brad emerges, bleary but wired, and snatches up his duffel. I hand Katie her backpack and lead them down to the garage.

No sign of Dad, but the kitchen light is on and there’s a mug of coffee steaming on the counter, untouched.

We don’t talk until we’re all in my car, engine running, waiting for the garage to open. Katie stares at her phone, thumb hovering, but she doesn’t message anyone. Brad jams his seatbelt, bouncing his knee like he’s waiting for a judge to call him forward in court.

As the garage door trundles up, I spot Dad waiting for us on the driveway.

“Isn’t he coming with us?” Katie asks and perks up in her seat.

I stay silent, drive out of the garage, and stop beside Dad. Katie lowers the window, a smile still tilted on her lips.

“Go on, have some fun at the lake, and I’ll see you in a few days.” Dad says it so easy that he almost misses the fall of Katie’s smile.

“A-aren’t you coming?” she asks, her voice breaking, mimicking her heart as she shakes her head.

“Not yet, but soon. Carter will keep you up to date,” he says with a quick glance in my direction.

“I want you to come,” Katie interjects, her voice stronger than before.

“I will, I promise, angel,” he responds, but I see the slight twitch in his lips, the hesitation, the bit of tension in his shoulders. He doesn’t want to lie to her, to disappoint her, but he has to be able to fix this mess Brad put us in.

Chapter twelve

Katie

It rains most of the way to the lake house. Carter drives, one hand on the wheel, the other locked around mine like he thinks I might vanish if he lets go for a second. Brad sits in the back, sunglasses on even though the sky is dark and moody. None of us speak much. They won’t tell me much, but I can guess what’s going on. It was only a matter of time before they would come get Brad.

We stop twice—once for gas, once so Carter can make me eat something. A Clif bar, dry and crumbling in my mouth. He watches every bite. I meet his stare and pretend it isn’t hard to keep anything down.

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