Chapter 30 Braedyn
brAEDYN
The buzz and whir of the coffee machine cut through the morning sounds of the rest of the house: Owen getting ready for camp, Yeti following behind as he ran between rooms in a nonsensical pattern.
Both seemed perfectly fine after their barf-a-palooza last night. But I was not.
I wasn’t fine because I’d kissed Dex Archer. I wasn’t fine because I wanted to kiss him again, even though I knew it was the worst idea known to man. I wasn’t fine because Dex had kept his distance from me while helping me clean up the mess and get Owen back to bed.
It was as if he didn’t want to risk coming within touching distance. As if he worried I would jump him. And, honestly, he should have been worried.
The moment the coffee stopped, I poured it over ice, mixed in some creamer, and started guzzling. I needed every ounce of caffeine.
Because sleep had been fitful at best. Every time I dropped into deep unconsciousness, Dex was there. His hands. His tongue. His big body pinning me down.
My eyes popped open. “Not today, Satan,” I muttered, then drank more coffee. Because coffee could fix anything. Coffee was my only hope.
“Mom! How do I look? I totally got the drip, right?” Owen skidded to a stop, Yeti on his heels.
He was wearing a brightly colored Pac-Man T-shirt and shorts that were equally blinding but definitely clashed with the shirt.
He had on his Converse that he’d drawn video game controllers, computers, a Bigfoot, and candy on. But somehow, all the chaos worked.
“My kid, I don’t know what drip means, but you are cool as heck.”
Owen grinned up at me. “Cool as heck? You might as well say I’m the biggest nerd in nerdville.”
“Hey,” I clipped, affronted. “Cool as heck is the ultimate compliment.”
“Sure, bruh,” Owen muttered, but a smile still stretched across his face.
I drilled a finger into his side, making him squeal with laughter. “Did you pack a swimsuit and towel in your bag?”
“Shoot!” He took off running, Yeti letting out a bark and racing behind him.
I couldn’t help but laugh. Gathering up my coffee and tote bag, I headed for the front door. It was a miracle if we loaded up in two goes. It was usually three. Four on a rough day. Things were always forgotten. My sunglasses. Owen’s Switch. Whatever item one of us couldn’t live without that day.
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I disarmed the alarm. I was still getting used to that. But safe was better than sorry. I unlocked the door and stepped outside.
The barest flutter of white caught my attention—a piece of paper lying on the porch. But something held it in place.
A necklace.
A necklace I recognized.
My heart hammered, rattling against my ribs, forcing my pulse into the danger zone. Blood roared in my ears as I bent, trying to see.
A gold heart locket.
One that looked old. One that had unique star engravings—the same ones I’d seen at the Rose Bowl flea market. The ones I’d haggled over, getting the stall’s owner to come down to fifty-six dollars.
It had still been a stretch for me, but I had known Nova would love it. And she had. So much that she’d worn it every single day.
But here it was. On my front steps.
And there was dried blood smeared across the pendant and caked in the chain.
And then I saw the note.
HOW MUCH DO YOU MISS ME?
The lettering was big and blocky. The kind that told you nothing about the person who wrote it. But the words told me everything.
The world went hazy around me, as if a film had dropped over my eyes. I stumbled back, struggling to reach for the door. My coffee slipped from my grip, falling to the front porch and spilling onto the wood, narrowly missing the note.
There wasn’t time to clean it up. My gaze jumped around, searching the trees that framed the large gravel area in front of the cabins. Was someone watching? Waiting?
I fumbled for the doorknob, finally getting it to turn. I stumbled into the house, and my phone clattered to the hardwood. It was all I could do to throw the lock.
Nova’s necklace. Blood. The note.
My legs gave way, and I fell to the floor.
Some part of me was aware of Yeti’s arrival. Owen’s.
“Mom?”
I heard the fear in his voice, but I couldn’t get myself to answer.
“What happened? Are you sick? Mom?” Owen pressed, anxiety bleeding into his tone.
I opened my mouth, but no words came out.
Owen swiped my phone off the floor, holding it up to my face to unlock it. And then he was tapping on the screen.
“Dex?” he asked, his voice higher than normal. “Something’s wrong with my mom. We need you.”
I tried to lift my hand to tell Owen I was okay. But my arms were cramped so tightly I couldn’t move. They hurt. Every breath was a shallow stab, and black dots danced across my vision.
Don’t pass out. Don’t pass out.
A pounding sounded. “Owen, it’s me. Unlock the door.”
Dex’s familiar voice skated over me. But it didn’t help ease me. My breaths still came in short, brutal stabs.
Owen scrambled toward the door, unlocking it and throwing it open.
Yeti moved to his side and got between me and Dex. She let out a low growl.
“Yeti,” Dex said, his voice low. “You know me. I gotta help your person, okay?”
Yeti didn’t move for a moment. Then Dex crouched low, holding out a hand.
“He’s a friend, Yeti,” Owen said.
My dog eased, and Dex didn’t wait. He was in front of me in a flash. Rough hands cupped my face. “It’s me. I’m right here. Talk to me.”
All I could do was keep breathing, trying to grab hold of those short, sharp pants.
Dex grabbed one of my hands and placed it on his chest. “Breathe with me, okay? Follow me. In, two, three. Out, two, three.”
I tried. Tried to follow. But the best I could get to was two.
“You’re doing it, Hellion. Nice and easy. Follow me.” Dex kept leading my breaths. Finally, I reached three. Then he extended it to four. Finally, five.
My hands and arms started to unlock. The tingling in my fingers and toes began to subside.
“That’s my girl,” Dex whispered. “That’s my fucking girl. She’ll battle back from hell if she has to.”
His praise was like a balm to flesh that had been ravaged.
“Nova,” I croaked, loud enough that only he could hear.
Dex stiffened, instantly on alert. “O, can you get some water for your mom?”
He looked unsure for a moment and then nodded, running for the kitchen.
“What happened?” Dex pressed.
He’d probably missed the note amid the dropped coffee and trying to get to me.
“Necklace outside. It’s Nova’s. There’s blood,” I rasped, my brain still not quite functioning on all cylinders.
Dex’s entire form vibrated with silent fury.
But I could only think about all the horrible possibilities that blood could mean. Nova hurt. Nova tortured. Nova dead.