All Along The Watchtower (Wayward Sons #3)

Prologue

PROLOGUE

FORD

“Dude, it wasn’t your fault.”

Sawyer wouldn’t stop pacing, looking like he was gonna puke. “How is it not my fault? If I hadn’t helped her sneak out...” He raked his hands through his hair. “She almost died, Ford. If Willa had—God. Jace is never gonna forgive me.”

“Bullshit.” Rios wasn’t having any of it. “Willa was gonna find a way to that party no matter what. If you hadn’t brought her, hadn’t noticed she was missing...” He didn’t finish the thought. Didn’t have to.

Yeah, Sawyer had helped Jace’s little sister sneak past her helicopter parents to get to the beach party, but he’d also saved her life. He was the one who realized she was gone, spotted her in the water, and went in after her like some crazy action hero during the storm. Did CPR until she started breathing again. Got her help. She was alive because of him, even if she was stuck in the hospital on the mainland right now. Jace had gone with his parents, and we’d been waiting to hear something—anything—for hours.

Sawyer was still in his wet clothes from the party, looking like a half-drowned rat. Mom and Mimi had tried to get him to change, but he wouldn’t listen. If Jace hadn’t told us to keep an eye on him, Sawyer would probably still be out there on the beach, storm or no storm.

Nobody had any clue how Willa ended up in the water. She grew up here—she wasn’t some tourist who didn’t know better. She’d been swimming since before she could walk. Something about it felt wrong. Thank God Sawyer had spotted her at all. It had been a damned miracle he hadn’t drowned trying to save her. Life would seriously suck without Sawyer Malone. He wasn’t just my best friend—he was my brother. All the Wayward Sons were.

None of us had slept. My moms went up hours ago, but they kept checking in like we were little kids again. Sawyer wasn’t gonna crash until we knew Willa was okay, so here we were, keeping watch with him. I tried not to think about what would happen if she wasn’t okay.

The storm finally died down around sunrise. Still no text from Jace. He had to be just as wrecked as we were.

I could hang here with Sawyer as long as he needed, but we were gonna need fuel to keep our eyes open. I looked at Rios. “Coffee?”

“Hell yes. And maybe raid Mimi’s cookie jar?”

“She’ll kill you if she catches you eating cookies for breakfast.”

The shadow of Rios’s usual smartass grin appeared. “Please. I’m her favorite, and you know it.”

“You wish.” But before I could make it to the kitchen, someone pounded on the front door. We all froze.

“Who the hell?” Rios muttered.

“Maybe it’s Jace.” The hope in Sawyer’s voice made my chest hurt.

But when I yanked open the door, it was Bree standing there looking like she hadn’t slept either. She had that look she got when everything was going sideways—all pale and tense, arms wrapped around herself like she was holding something in.

“I know it’s crazy early,” she said, “but I saw the lights on. I’d have texted, but...”

“What’s wrong?”

“Gwen’s missing.”

Gwen Busby was one of Willa’s besties. She and Rios’s younger sister, Gabi, were their own tight friend group. The three of them were a few classes under all of us, so we didn’t exactly hang out, but we kept an eye on them. They’d absolutely been together last night at the party, before everything had gone to shit.

“What do you mean, missing?” Rios demanded.

“No one has seen her since the party last night. Her parents raised the alarm when she didn’t come home. They’re putting together an island-wide search. I figured y’all would want to be there.”

Rios shook his head. “But that’s impossible. I saw her myself when we were clearing out right before the storm hit.”

“Chief Carson will want to hear about that, for sure. All I know is, she didn’t make it home last night.”

I scooped a hand through my hair. “Could she have gone home with somebody else?”

“Who?” Sawyer asked. “Willa’s still in the hospital, and she didn’t go home with Gabi.”

“I mean... maybe a guy?” I suggested. “There was a lot of hooking up at that party.”

“She’s not that girl,” Bree argued. “I mean, first time for everything, and it’s not like I’m exactly an expert on normal teenage girl behavior since I spend all my time hanging out with you yahoos, but I don’t see her willingly staying out all night with some guy.”

She let the implication hang until we were all moving to grab our shoes.

My moms came downstairs, both in their bathrobes, eyes heavy from sleep.

Mom’s eyes cleared when she spotted the four of us. “Is there news about Willa?”

“Not yet. Gwen Busby never made it home last night. They’re organizing a search,” I explained.

Mom and Mimi exchanged a look.

Mimi clutched the lapels of her robe together, her dark eyes full of worry. “We’ll go dress.”

Forty minutes later, we were spread out near Osprey Beach, where the party had been held last night. In the wake of the storm, there was no sign of the hundred or so teens who’d been here, except for the blackened pile of wood that was all that remained of the bonfire. Seaweed and driftwood were scattered all across the beach, along with the usual mess following a storm. If there’d ever been any footprints or other obvious signs to follow, they were definitely gone now.

An incident command tent had been set up at the edge of the boardwalk. The officer running things had organized all the searchers into a line to begin walking the area in a grid pattern. Hatterwick Island was only thirteen miles long and three miles across at its widest point. While it wasn’t a big island, there were still plenty of places for someone to disappear, like the woods that occupied the center of the island going north. Maybe Gwen had tried to find shelter from the storm and injured herself. Sprained an ankle or something and hadn’t been able to make it out.

“Gwen!” I shouted her name, my voice dying out in the heavy, humid air.

We made our way into the woods, continuing forward in our grid pattern. The morning ticked slowly by with her name becoming a chorus from all the searchers. I wondered again if she’d gone off with some guy. Had anybody been creeping on her? Was there some asshole out there who’d pressured her to do something she hadn’t wanted to? I tried to think back to last night, to whether I’d seen anything. But the truth was, Gwen was someone at my periphery. Friend of a friend. I knew her, but she was younger. Only fifteen to our eighteen. She wasn’t a direct part of our group, and all I’d been concerned with last night was enjoying myself and the start of the last summer I’d spend on the island with all the Wayward Sons before we split up in the fall.

Up ahead, someone bolted through the trees. “Gwen? Gwen! Where are you?”

I recognized that panicked voice as belonging to Miles Busby, Gwen’s college-age older brother.

I picked up my pace and caught up with him. “Hey, man.”

Miles whirled on me, his eyes almost feral with panic.

I lifted my hands in peace. “You okay? You need some water?”

“I need my sister.”

“I get it. We’re all looking. But maybe you should drink down some water. If you keel over from dehydration, you won’t do her any good.” I offered him some of my own water.

After a long hesitation, he took it, drinking down half the bottle. His eyes closed on a defeated sigh. “I’m her big brother. I was supposed to look out for her. And now she’s...” His voice choked off.

“Hey, you don’t know that. She might be fine.”

But I could see he didn’t believe that. And as the day progressed, and the search continued, with no word, no sign of her whatsoever, I was starting to get a really bad feeling that something terrible had happened to Gwen Busby.