25. Austin
Austin
M y fingers tapped impatiently on the leather steering wheel, staring at the empty space ahead where McKenna’s car disappeared around the corner. She had one job—stay with me. Then I got pulled over for no fucking reason, and she disappeared.
She never listened, and that was exactly why I planned to punish her when we got home. Clearly our back-and-forth from the past few weeks has done nothing but make her more rebellious.
A hard knock at my window had me slamming a finger on the button to lower it. Even then, I didn’t spare one glance at the officer.
“License and registration,” the cop demanded. His voice sounded like he was purposely making it deeper, which only annoyed the shit out of me more, on top of his audacity for separating me from my girl like this.
“You’re pulling over the wrong guy,” I warned. I’d paid off the cops in Whiskey Ridge more times than I could count. The three of us didn’t get away with murder so often by sheer luck. We cleaned up the town’s problems from time to time, and law enforcement looked the other way.
“License and registration. I won’t ask again.”
Finally, I mustered the strength to face the man without tearing his esophagus through his thin, skinny neck. My eyes flicked to his name tag, not caring to read it. “You’re new. I get that. But I have somewhere to be, and I wasn’t doing anything illegal.” Yet.
“You were texting and driving.” Even his tone indicated it was a fucking lie.
I chuckled, the sound anything but humorous. “Funny, because I don’t even have my phone on me.”
“Just because you tossed it elsewhere before I made it to your window doesn’t mean what I saw is any less true.”
My fingers continued their impatient thrum on the wheel. “It’s not in my vehicle, dipshit.”
The cop’s hand went to his holster. “What’d you just call me?”
I leaned a little closer, emphasizing the word. “Dipshit.”
He moved back a foot. “Step out of the vehicle.”
“Call your sergeant.”
The dipshit hesitated, and I dipped my chin at his walkie. “Call him.”
A beat later, he was slowly walking back in the direction of his patrol car, hand on his radio.
Distantly, I could hear him asking questions and getting stern responses.
A smile tilted the corners of my mouth, and when he reappeared at my window, recognition hit me.
I’d seen this man before. It was dark, but I remembered him standing beside Grace, McKenna’s cousin, at the haunted house the night Brynne was taken all those weeks ago.
My eyes narrowed on him a fraction as he set his hands on his hips. “You’re good to go.”
I didn’t hesitate before shifting into drive and slamming my foot on the gas. Dirt and debris kicked up behind my truck, and I caught him watching me speed off.
I hoped a stick stabbed him in the fucking eye.
I rounded the corner, following McKenna's path, and relief flooded me when I saw her car parked on the side of the road. Maybe I wouldn’t have to punish her after all.
As I came to a stop behind her vehicle, I noticed her silhouette wasn’t in the driver’s seat, and Brynne’s door was open. I shoved the truck into park so hard I nearly broke the shifter and jumped out.
“McKenna!” I shouted, panic etching itself into the marrow of my bones. Where the fuck was she?
I ran to the driver’s side, finding the seat empty, and with a look across the cab, I found Brynne on the other side. Lying on the fucking ground.
I cursed, sprinting around the hood. Crouching beside her, I checked her pulse on her neck. She was alive, but the beat was slow. Faint. Like she was drugged.
I checked our surroundings before brushing the hair away from her face. Her skin seemed feverish, but when I carefully moved her from her side to her back, she groaned.
“Brynne, talk to me,” I coaxed gently. “It’s Austin. I’m here.”
“Booker,” she whispered, face scrunching in pain.
“I know. I’ll call him.” I ran a hand up and down her arm, trying to keep her awake. “Where’s McKenna? ”
Her head rolled to the side, eyes barely open as her eyelids fluttered. “Took her.”
My muscles seized with the urge to decimate whoever put their hands on McKenna and put Brynne in danger. “Who took her, Brynne?”
Another moan passed her lips, and her fingers flexed like she wanted to clench something. I remembered her stomach hurting earlier, and could only imagine what she was feeling.
When her eyes closed and she whimpered, I scanned the dirt around her. “Where’s your phone?”
Her finger barely lifted in the direction of the car. I stood, finding her cell in the cupholder. Grabbing it, I typed in her passcode. It wasn’t hard to guess it was Booker’s birthday.
The call rang twice before Booker answered. “Baby?”
“It’s Austin. I think Brynne was drugged and?—”
“Where the fuck is she?” Booker demanded, the sound of wind filling the phone as he was presumably out on his horse.
“I have her. She’s safe.” I explained the order of events up until this point, then said the words I wished I’d never had to. “Someone took McKenna, Booker.” My throat swelled, her name a choked plea on my tongue.
“We’ll find her.” A door slammed and his engine started up in the background. “I’ll be there in five. Do not fucking leave her, Austin, or I swear to?—”
“She’s safe with me.” And it killed me that I couldn’t say the same for McKenna.
Over and over again, she was hurt. I was in her life, and I still couldn’t fucking keep her away from danger. I shouldn’t have pulled over. Shouldn’t have taken my eyes off her. I should’ve?—
“It’s not your fault, Austin.” Booker’s voice filtered in through my racing thoughts, saving me from the spiral for now.
I lowered myself beside Brynne again, returning my hand to her arm to ward off some of the chill. The sight of her on the ground beside the cold, darkening forest sent a wave of rage flooding through me. “Just get here fast.”
I hung up the phone and lifted Brynne into my arms, holding her close to keep her warm.
I kept my eyes on the road, waiting for my best friend to arrive.
Because the moment he got here, the hunt would begin.
And I wasn’t fucking stopping until every single fucker who thought they could put their hands on McKenna was dead.