Chapter 25 #2
Jasper drops to his knees, clutching Sawyer’s phone like a lifeline, eyes wild. “No. No, no, no—”
I squeeze his shoulder, barely holding it together myself. “We’re getting her back, man. I swear. We’re not stopping. I’ll burn this whole fucking county down if I have to.”
But as I stare out at the empty land, the wind tearing through the trees, all I can hear is the echo of her laugh—and the sickening possibility that we’re already too late.
The fear is a living thing now, but it only takes a heartbeat for it to turn into something sharper. Rage. Determination. Jasper stands, knuckles white around Sawyer’s phone, jaw set in a way that means someone’s about to pay.
Silas is already on the phone, voice cold and professional as he rattles off orders to the private security company and local sheriff. “We need a BOLO on a white van—late model, no plates. Get eyes on every camera between here and the highway. Now.”
Micah’s fingers fly over his laptop, hacking into local traffic cams, his panic morphing into focus. “Give me five minutes. I’ll have every gas station, stoplight, and corner store pinged for movement. They’re not invisible.”
Jace grabs my arm, breath coming in hard, fast bursts. “We need to call Riot’s band too. Dex, Shade, Milo—they’ll have eyes on the streets. The more people watching, the more ground covered.”
Ash jogs over, already dialing a number. “And I’ll call everyone I know at the local venues. Sawyer’s face goes to every greenroom, every security guard, right fucking now.”
Jasper’s voice is ice and hellfire as he turns to me. “You stick with Micah. Get every camera, every ping. I’m going out with Silas to check the roads.”
I nod, adrenaline surging. “We’ll find her. No matter what.”
Micah looks up, meeting my eyes. “I swear, Riot. I’ll find this fucker. He’s not getting away with this.”
Jasper presses Sawyer’s phone into my hand, his voice rough but steady. “If anything comes through—anything—you call me. And if you find out who it is before I do? Tell them I’m coming.”
He and Silas take off, engines roaring, tires spitting gravel as they tear down the drive. Jace and Ash disappear in the other direction, already making calls.
I stay close to Micah, watching every screen, heart pounding, praying to any god that’ll listen that the next ping is the clue we need.
We’re not giving up. Not for anything.
Not until Sawyer’s back in my arms and whoever took her is bleeding for it.
JASPER
The cab of Silas’s truck smells like old coffee and sweat. We’ve been driving for hours, headlights slicing the black, scanning every turnout and ditch along the county road. Gravel pops under the tires. Silence stretches between us, heavy as concrete.
Silas drives with one hand, the other white-knuckled on the wheel. He’s making calls, checking with local patrols, every sentence clipped and angry.
“No, nothing yet. If you see any vans, call me directly. Yeah—white, no plates. Thanks.”
I stare out the window, jaw clenched so hard my teeth ache. Every time we pass a dead end or empty barn, something inside me cracks. I keep replaying the night we had, her smile, the way she kissed me before we went back to sleep. I hadn’t even gotten to see her awake this morning. If I’d just—
“Jas,” Silas says, breaking the silence, “don’t go there. Not yet. We’re not done.”
I grit my teeth, swallowing the guilt. “We’re not finding shit.”
He grunts, turning onto another dirt road. “We will. She’s tough. Too damn stubborn to let some asshole win.”
The radio crackles—just static, but it sounds like hope. I lean forward, peering into the dark, desperate for anything—a light, a shoe, a miracle.
We check every abandoned lot, every mailbox, every pull-off with tire tracks that don’t belong. Each time, the hope fades a little more.
Finally, Silas lets out a harsh breath. “Let’s head back. We’ll regroup. I’ll call the sheriff again, make sure everyone’s looking. I promise, Jas—we’re not stopping.”
I nod, barely trusting my voice, staring out into the night as we turn for home.
In the darkness, I whisper, “Hold on, baby. I’m coming.”
It’s almost midnight. I don’t know how many hours it’s been since we realized Sawyer was gone.
Time stopped meaning anything after the sun went down.
Every mile I drove with Silas, every field, ditch, and back road we searched, it all blurs together with the taste of blood in my mouth and panic clawing at my throat.
We walk in, and the house is dead silent, except for the ticking of the kitchen clock and the low hum of Micah’s laptop.
Macee sits at the table, eyes hollow, face pale.
Jace and Ash hover close, like they’re afraid she might break if they look away.
Riot’s by the window, pacing, glancing at his phone every thirty seconds.
My hands are shaking. I can’t remember if I hit a tree, a wall, or the dashboard, but my knuckles are split and throbbing. I drop my keys on the table, my voice coming out like gravel. “Nothing. Not a fucking thing. No tire tracks, no footprints, no witnesses. She’s just gone.”
Macee’s up in a flash, voice raw with tears. “Are you sure? She didn’t text, didn’t call—nothing?” Then she remembers we have Sawyer’s phone and breaks down.
Silas pulls her into a hug, murmuring something I can’t even hear. He was always better at comforting than I was.
I sink into a chair, elbows on my knees, staring at my bloodied hands like the answer might appear there. I feel like I’m drowning. Like I let the only thing that ever mattered slip through my fingers.
Micah’s still hunched over the computer, screens casting him in cold blue light. “He’s a ghost. Whoever did this covered every angle. But nobody’s perfect. I’m going to find something—I swear.”
Riot’s band group chat buzzes on the table. Riot grabs it, reads out the message, voice thin but hopeful.
DEX: “We’re almost there. We’ll split up and search every gas station and motel in the county.”
MILO: “Got flyers. People will be looking for her everywhere.”
Ash shoves a beer in my hand, but I stare at it. I can’t feel anything but this gnawing emptiness where Sawyer should be.
I stand again, pacing, fists clenched, voice sharp and trembling. “If we get even one fucking clue, I’ll kill them. You hear me? They’re not getting away with this.”
Nobody argues. Not a single one of them doubts what I mean.
The house feels haunted, every room echoing with her laugh, her voice, her little quirks. It hurts worse than any wound I’ve ever had. But I won’t let this be the end.
We’re not giving up.
MACEE
I keep thinking about this morning, about how normal it all felt.
Sawyer stole bacon off my plate with a crooked grin, teasing me about Ash and Jace, her blue eyes bright and clear for the first time in days.
I remember laughing so hard that I almost spilled my coffee.
Sawyer nudged my shoulder, telling me to “be a menace” just to keep up with the chaos in this house.
I wish I’d hugged her before she left.
I wish I’d told her she was my favorite person in the world, even when she’s a brat, even when she forgets to text me back for hours because she’s lost behind her camera.
I can’t take the weight of everyone’s eyes on me—Micah’s haunted, tired stare, Riot’s wild pacing, Jasper’s silent grief.
My hands shake as I put down my mug, and I don’t even try to hide how quickly I slip out of the kitchen, up the stairs to my room.
I locked the door behind me. The house is still noisy with search and worry, but in my room, it’s just me and the crushing silence.
I sit on my bed, pull my knees to my chest, and finally let the tears spill over.
Big, hot, ugly sobs that shake my whole body, the kind that taste like regret and fear and guilt.
I muffle my cries in my pillow, trying to keep them small, but it’s no use.
All I can think is, I should’ve gone with her. I should’ve noticed. This is my fault.
There’s a quiet knock at the door. I don’t answer. I can’t.
But the knock comes again, softer. Then a voice—Ash, of course, always the first to break through. “Macee? Hey, come on, open up. You don’t have to do this alone.”
I scrub at my face, but the tears won’t stop. Another voice—Jace, more serious than usual, gentler. “We’re not leaving until you open the door. You can be mad, you can cry, you can yell at us—just let us in.”
I crack the door open, just a little, and they both slip inside, closing it behind them. Ash sits at the end of my bed, swinging his feet, his usual swagger dialed down. Jace sits beside me, close enough that I can feel his warmth but not so close that I feel crowded.
Ash picks at a thread on my blanket, his eyes soft. “We’re all scared. But you know, Sawyer—she’s too stubborn to let anybody keep her down for long. She’s probably giving her kidnapper hell right now.”
Jace nudges me, offering a lopsided smile. “Besides, who else is gonna keep us in line? We need you, Macee. You and Sawyer are the only sane ones in this house.”
I let out a watery laugh, tears still coming, but softer now. “I just… I miss her. I should’ve done something.”
Ash wraps an arm around my shoulders gently. “This isn’t on you. Nobody blames you. And when she gets back, you two can both yell at us for being idiots. Promise.”
Jace squeezes my knee. “We’re not going to giving up, and neither are you.”
For the first time since we realized she was missing, I feel a little less alone.