Chapter 8
Hunter
The roads out near Willowmist Falls were just as bad as I remembered, narrow and potholed, dark as hell even with my brights on. I’d already looped past a couple of bonfire parties and what was obviously still the popular makeout spot when I saw her.
She was walking on the shoulder, arms crossed, head down, ponytail swinging behind her with every hurried step. Her sweatshirt sleeves were pulled over her hands, and even from behind, I could see the tension in her shoulders.
But that wasn’t what made my heart hammer.
It was the truck behind her.
Old. Rusted. Rolling slow. Too slow.
I rolled my window down and leaned out. “Briar!”
She froze, turned, and the second she saw me, she bolted. The truck behind her spun around, gunned it, and took off, tires skidding as it sped away into the dark behind me.
Briar didn’t stop until she hit the passenger door.
I threw it open. She climbed in, gasping, pale as hell.
“Are you okay?” I asked, checking the mirrors, trying to get the license plate, but the truck was gone.
She nodded too fast, blinking hard, arms wrapped around herself. “I didn’t know what to do. They weren’t doing anything. Just driving slow. I really didn’t want to go into the woods, and—”
“Okay,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. “You’re safe now. Everyone’s out looking for you. Your mom is terrified.”
That cracked her. Her face crumpled, and she covered it with both hands. I found my phone in the console and sent a text to Paige, then Cade, to let them know I’d found her.
I didn’t say anything. I reached behind the seat and pulled out the clean jacket I kept back there. I passed it over to her, along with the crumpled pack of travel tissues in the cupholder. She yanked the jacket on and buried her face in the sleeves.
“I didn’t mean to scare anybody,” she mumbled. “I just—I didn’t want to be at my dad’s house anymore. And I didn’t want to make Mom feel worse. Everything’s already hard.”
“I get it,” I said quietly, pulling back onto the road to take her home.
She sniffed, hard. “Danielle acts like me and Lark are a problem. She makes it feel like every time I breathe, I’m taking something from her kids.”
My hands tightened on the wheel.
“She says things like, ‘We all have to make sacrifices now,’ and then looks right at me. Like I’m supposed to feel guilty for existing. I don’t know what her problem is. Grandpa is paying for dance now. She hates me. I know it. And when he’s there, my dad doesn’t say a word.”
I let her talk. Let it all tumble out in angry, breathless pieces while I fought back the urge to find her father and cave his face in with my fist for allowing this to happen.
“She treats Lark and me like we're extra. It's as if we're the ones who don’t fit into their perfect little family. And Dad just lets her. Lark says to ignore her, but I can’t. She said we have to go to his place, or Mom could get in trouble with the judge because of the custody stuff.”
Listening to her, something fierce burned in my chest—I wanted to protect her, to go to war for her if I had to, the same way I would for her mother.
I’ve known her since she was a baby, and it made me sick to think Eli could stand by and let this happen, let her feel unwanted in his own house. How could he?
I didn’t say what I was thinking. That Danielle had no business parenting anyone.
That Eli had no business letting her even try.
And I wished she had said something to Paige, because there was no way this would have happened if she had known how bad it was.
And that if it were up to me, she’d never go back there again.
“I didn’t know what to do. I thought about calling Mom, but I didn’t want to make her deal with more crap.” She wiped her nose. “But it just—it all sucked, so I snuck out. Everyone at school was talking about this party—I screwed up. I’m horrible.”
“Maybe you screwed up. But you’re not horrible,” I said. “You’re a kid who got stuck in a really bad situation and didn’t know what to do.”
She was quiet, sniffling into her tissue. Then, so soft I almost didn’t hear it, “Is Mom gonna be mad? I promised I would call her if I got upset. I didn’t call her. That makes me a liar. I broke my promise.”
I shook my head. “She won’t be mad. She’ll be relieved when she sees you. That’s all.”
We turned onto her street.
The porch light was on. The front door was open, just the screen pulled shut, and Paige stood there in leggings and an oversized sweatshirt, arms crossed over her chest, pacing just inside the frame.
The second she saw my headlights, she stepped outside.
I pulled into the driveway and put the truck in park.
“She’s right here,” I called out. “She’s okay.”
Briar looked up. Her whole face crumpled again.
“I’ll walk you in,” I added.
We got out. Paige met us halfway.
“Briar,” she breathed, voice shaking.
“Mom,” she cried, and launched herself into Paige’s arms.
Paige wrapped around her like a shield, one hand in her hair, the other around her back.
“I’m so sorry,” Briar said between sobs. “I didn’t want to make things worse.”
“You didn’t,” Paige whispered. “You didn’t. I promise. It’s okay. Shh. I’m just glad you’re okay. You’re home now, you’re safe. I’ve got you.”
I stayed back, hands in my pockets, heart still pounding from the what-ifs. But watching the way Paige held her kid like she was piecing her back together was the only thing that really mattered.
Eventually, she looked over Briar’s shoulder at me. Her eyes were glassy, but alert. “Thank you,” she mouthed. Then she pulled out of Paige’s arms and ran to me, throwing her arms around my waist in a giant hug. “You saved me, Hunter, and you listened.”
Embarrassed, she darted away back to the house and ran inside with Paige following closely behind.
I pulled out my phone and called Cade.
“Hey,” he answered. “How is she?”
“She’s safe. I found her walking along the highway. But there was a truck. Old. Red and white, but rusted. I’d say it was a Ford F-100, 1959, if I had to guess. It followed her slowly as she walked. Took off when I pulled up.”
Cade’s voice dropped. “You get a plate?”
“No. Too dark. But it felt wrong. It seemed like whoever was in it was up to no good. Could have just been a kid messing around, but it couldn’t hurt to check it out. I can’t shake it, man. It gave me a bad feeling.”
“I’ll make a few calls. Check in with patrol. We’ll see if anything like that’s been reported. And I’ll send a car out there to look around.”
“Thanks.”
We hung up just as Noah’s headlights swung into the driveway behind me.
He stopped haphazardly and barely had it in park before he and Lark were climbing out. Paige must’ve already texted them.
Lark didn’t even pause—she sprinted to the front door and disappeared inside.
Noah spotted me and exhaled. “You’re the one who found her?”
I nodded. “She’s okay. Scared. Shaken up. But okay.”
“God.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “Okay. Thank you. Okay.”
He looked like he’d aged five years in an hour. I clapped a hand on his shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze.
“You did good,” I said. “Getting the info. Picking up Lark.”
He nodded, still dazed. “Thanks.”
I turned to go, to give them space, but then the screen door opened as another car pulled into the driveway. Paige stood there, arms crossed, her mouth a firm line as Eli burst out, running toward the porch.
“Is she okay?” he asked, looking around Paige into the house like he had a right to be inside with them, as if this entire situation wasn’t his fault.
“She’s safe,” Paige said flatly. “And staying here tonight.”
“I was worried—”
“You weren’t watching her,” she bit out. “I know she’s not a baby, but she’s still only thirteen. How long did you leave her alone? What the hell, Eli?”
That shut him up. She didn’t raise her voice. Every word was edged with glass.
“I—” he attempted to answer before Paige cut him off.
“She didn’t feel welcome in your house, Eli. That’s a problem.”
“I didn’t know she was gone,” he muttered weakly.
“And that’s an even bigger problem.”
No one said anything for a long, stretching beat. Then Briar’s voice floated through the screen door. “Is he gone?”
Eli flinched. But that was all Paige needed. “You should go,” she told him. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
He hesitated, like he might protest. But then he saw Noah standing beside me, glaring at him, and Lark hovering just inside the doorway. The fire in Paige’s eyes.
And me. Just waiting for the chance to take a swing at him.
He turned and walked back to his car without another word.
When the taillights disappeared, Paige exhaled.
I didn’t move.
She looked at me, like she wasn’t sure what to say next. “Will you stay for a minute? Please?”
That hit me harder than it should’ve. “Yeah,” I said softly. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Inside, the house had the stillness of something sacred, like everyone was holding their breath. The lights were dim. Briar and Lark had disappeared down the hall, and Noah had collapsed into the corner of the couch with his phone and a glass of water.
“I’m going to tuck them in,” Paige said quietly, brushing her hair back with one hand. “Like when they were little. I need to. I have to make this okay somehow.”
I nodded.
“I’m going to bed too,” Noah said as he stood.
“I’ll tuck you in too,” she told him with a trembling smile. “No arguments.”
“Okay, Mom,” he whispered before giving her a quick hug.
They disappeared down the hall, and for a few minutes, it was just me and the tick of the old wall clock.
I wandered into the kitchen, opened a few cabinets until I found mugs, tea bags, and the scratched-up electric kettle she always kept on the counter. It rattled a little when it boiled.
By the time she came back out, her shoulders had fallen, and her eyes were glossy but dry.
She looked at the mugs. “Thank you, Hunter.”
“Of course. Let me take care of you. Please. Tell me what you need, and I’ll do it.”