Page 95 of The Last One You Loved
“I can’t wait for the world to see exactly what we are when we’re together,” I told her. “It’s like that damn book of Mila’s. At the end, we’re pure magic.”
She kissed me, slow and steady, with a promise I meant for her to keep.
We got lost in each other for a good fifteen minutes on the side of the road. It would have been longer if I hadn’t been in my work truck, and we weren’t in the bright light of day on the side of a highway. But it just made me more determined to get us home as quickly as possible so I could show her, one more time, all the ways we belonged together. All the ways we knew each other.
When I finally returned her to her seat and started the truck back up, my foot was heavy on the gas pedal, an urgency filling us both that needed to be fulfilled.
We were about ten minutes from Willow Creek when Gemma called.
“Hey, Gem Mine. Thanks for picking Mila up for me. Is she completely sugared out?”
Gemma’s voice came over, shaky and slightly panicked. “Sadie picked her up for me because…it doesn’t matter. But I’m back at the ranch now, and I can’t find them.”
“What do you mean?” I said, trying not to freak out, pulling on the shroud of calm my job required.
“Sadie’s car is here, but it’s weird. The doors are open, and her keys are still in the ignition.”
My gut twisted, fear lodging in my throat. It was weird…but it didn’t mean I should panic, except the hair raised on the back of my neck that was an eighty percent accurate measure of something hinky going down, said otherwise. I glanced over at McKenna, and I could see the worry coasting over her brows.
“Did you call their phones? Where’s Terrance and her friends?” I asked, barely keeping my alarm at bay as my foot slammed even harder into the accelerator, a different kind of urgency filling me.
I took the next turn at speeds that made our wheels skid, and McKenna grasped the door handle with an audible gasp.
“Terrance and the others left to go back to UTK today. Sadie’s staying until Sunday. And I tried both their phones, but neither of them is picking up.”
Mila had her phone off a lot, which defeated the whole purpose, but I could still find it.
“I’m going to ping Mila’s phone. Maybe she talked Sadie into taking Shadowfax out?”
“The horses are all here, too,” Gemma said.
“Where are Mama and Dad? Ryder?” I asked as I scrambled to locate theFind my Phoneapp while still barreling down the road. McK grabbed the phone from me, flicking through the screens on the device.
“Livestock auction over in Cooksville.”
Fuck.
“It says she’s at the ranch,” McKenna said, shoving the phone in my direction. It looked like her phone was right by the farmhouse.
“Gems, go out to Sadie’s car and see if their phones are there.”
It was quiet, but we could both hear Gemma’s uneven breathing as she went out.
“Shit,” Gemma said. “It’s in her backpack in the back seat. I don’t see Sadie’s… Oh, wait. It’s under the seat…like she dropped it.”
I was no longer calm. I was fucking terrified. The hair on my neck was still standing up, my stomach was clenched tight, and all I could think was that I was seven minutes away from the goddamn ranch and my daughter. I forced myself to respond with a voice much calmer than I actually felt. “We’re a few minutes out, Gems. I’m going to be there soon, but I’m hanging up so I can call it in.”
Gemma sobbed. “Okay. God…I’m sorry, Mads…”
“This isn’t on you, Gemma. They’ll be fine. It’s just a misunderstanding, I’m sure.”
It wasn’t a misunderstanding. I felt it in my bones. My daughter and my sister were in danger.
I hung up and tapped the radio I’d had turned down while we’d been out of the county, hating with every fiber of my being that I was going to use the code for a missing person in relation to my daughter. My voice shook as I filled in the names and details as best I could to the dispatcher. When it came to Mila’s appearance, I hesitated because I couldn’t remember what she’d been wearing that morning, and it was McKenna who filled in the information.
“Green leggings and a rainbow sweater,” McKenna said.
Fuck. How could I forget what my child was wearing?
