Chapter Fourteen
Lila
“I’m sorry, what?”
I repeat, incredulous.
The woman blinks, then leans forward.
“I said your husband came to pick her up today.”
“Ex-husband,”
I correct, jaw tight.
“And he’s not on the approved pickup list. So how was that allowed?”
She looks genuinely baffled.
“Her father isn’t allowed to pick her up from school?”
I hate confrontation, but when it comes to Bree and Micah, I will go to war with anyone who puts them at risk. Not that Bree’s in danger with her father…but still.
“I am her legal guardian,”
I say, forcing my voice steady.
“I listed two people authorized to pick her up: me and Cody Bentley. So, tell me again how anyone else was allowed to take her from this building.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Campton. There must have been a mix-up.”
With the rage boiling in my chest, I don’t trust myself to respond. Instead, I turn on my heel, yank my phone from my pocket, and head for my car.
Chris answers on the second ring.
“Lila. I was just about to call you.”
Starting the engine, I pull out of the parking lot, voice tight.
“A heads-up would’ve been nice before you decided to pull Bree from school in the middle of the day. That’s not okay, Chris. I need to know these things before they happen.”
“That’s your issue…always needing to be in charge,”
he snaps back.
“And for your information, I didn’t pull her from school. I was calling to see if she wanted to come over this weekend. My sisters in town, and her daughter wanted to spend time with her little cousin.”
I slam on the brakes, tires screeching, completely unaware of the traffic piling up behind me.
“What?”
My voice cracks.
“What do you mean? You didn’t pick her up?”
“No, Lila,”
Chris snaps, frustration bleeding through the line.
“I did not pick our daughter up from school. Have you been drinking again?”
“Again?”
My shock makes the word spit out like venom.
“I’ve never touched a drop of alcohol in my life, and you damn well know it. The office said you signed her out.”
“Well, I didn’t.”
His voice is clipped.
“I have to go.”
“Wait…Chris?”
The line goes dead.
Panic claws up my throat. Without thinking, I wrench the wheel into a sharp turn, horns blaring as I narrowly miss a pedestrian. My only thought…my only breath…is to get back to the school.
I fling the car door open as soon as I stop in front of the building and run for the entrance, not bothering to close my door. The automatic doors stay locked until someone in the office buzzes me in; my stomach drops waiting for that click. When it finally opens, I barrel through, breath hot and loud in my ears.
“He said he didn’t sign her out,”
I blurt as I slam into the office, eyes searching the reception area.
“She has to still be here. Can you go check the classrooms? The gym? Anywhere…please.”
The receptionist’s face is small and apologetic.
“Ma’am, I was right here when he walked out with her.”
“No!”
My voice breaks.
“Please, just go check. He doesn’t have her. She couldn’t have left. Please.”
My hands are shaking; I feel like I’m going to explode if someone doesn’t move.
“Alright,”
the receptionist says softly, picking up the phone. Her voice is calm…too freaking calm…as she dials.
“Hi, Mrs. Lawson? Is Briana Campton with you? … No? Okay. No, I understand. Thank you.”
She sets the receiver down and looks back at me, her expression already apologetic.
“I’m sorry,”
she says carefully.
“She’s not here.”
The floor tilts under me. My legs go weak, but the fear coursing through me won’t let me collapse.
“What do you mean she’s not here?”
My voice rises, ragged, desperate.
“She has to be here. You can’t just lose a child. She’s my baby. Where the hell is my baby?”
“Ma’am, calm down.”
“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down!”
I shout, my voice cracking under the weight of terror.
“Who the hell did you let my daughter walk out of here with?”
The receptionist flinches, fumbling with her hands.
“He…he signed her out. He said he was her father. He matched the description-”
“He’s not on the damn list!”
I slam my hands against the counter, shaking.
“You had one job. One. To keep my daughter safe inside this building until the right person came for her. And you let her walk away.”
“I didn’t let her walk away. Her father came and signed her out. She seemed happy to see him.”
“Then show me the cameras,”
I demand, gripping the counter so hard my knuckles ache.
“You’ve got security footage, right? Pull it up. Let me see who you let my daughter leave with.”
The receptionist pales and shakes her head.
“I…I’m not authorized to release security footage without the principal’s or district's approval.”
“Are you kidding me?”
My voice breaks, raw with rage and terror.
“My child is missing, and you’re worried about policy?”
She opens her mouth, but I don’t hear a word. My hands are already shaking as I fumble for my phone. I hit Cody’s number, my last desperate hope.
He answers on the first ring.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Please, please tell me you have Bree with you,”
I beg, my chest heaving.
“Tell me she’s with you right now.”
There’s a pause.
“What? No, Lila. I don’t. Why? What’s going on?”
The room spins. My knees nearly buckle, and I clutch the counter to keep from collapsing.
“Oh, God.”
“Lila?”
Cody’s voice sharpens with alarm.
“Talk to me. Where’s Bree?”
I can’t answer. I can’t breathe. All I can do is stumble back, out the doors, across the lot. My car door is still hanging open from when I left it.
I fall into the seat, slam it shut, and spin out of the parking lot. There’s only one place left to go.
The police station.
***Max***
“Do you ever plan to move back into the compound?”
Spike asks as I work the wrench on his bike.
“Not sure,”
I admit.
“My new place is close to the park. Lila takes the kids there a lot.”
“She moving in with you?”
he presses.
“Yep.”
I grin without looking up.
“She just doesn’t know it yet. I’m letting her get used to the idea that she’s mine. That they all are. Don’t want to push her.”
“Sometimes a little push is what we need,”
Riley calls from her front porch.
“Maybe,”
I grunt, wiping grease from my hands as I stand.
“You’re good to go, Spike. She’ll need an oil change in about a week, but she’ll purr for you till then.”
“Thanks, brother,”
Spike says, pulling his phone from his pocket as it starts to ring. He answers with a frown.
“Yeah. Slow down, Cody… What? … When? … No, we’re on our way.”
The way he lowers the phone and looks in my direction makes my stomach sour in a way I’ve never felt before.
“What is it?”
Riley asks.
“Bree’s missing,”
he says.
“Lila went to pick her up from school, but she was already signed out by her dad. Cody says Lila talked to him, and he swears it wasn’t him.”
“Where’s Lila now?”
I demand, my keys already in hand.
“Police station,”
Spike says.
“Go. We’ll meet you there.”
***Lila***
The station smells like burnt coffee and old paper. My hands won’t stop shaking as I grip the counter, begging the officer behind the desk.
“My daughter is missing,”
I say again, my voice cracking.
“She was signed out of school, and it wasn’t her father. He swears he didn’t do it. Please, you have to help me.”
The officer doesn’t even look up from his computer.
“Ma’am, if she was signed out, then someone authorized must have picked her up. We can’t file a missing child report until she’s been gone for at least twenty-four hours.”
“Twenty-four…are you insane?”
My chest tightens so badly I can’t breathe.
“She’s ten years old. She’s been gone for less than two hours, and you want me to wait a whole damn day?”
“Calm down,”
he says flatly, as if I’m a nuisance.
Why is everyone telling me to calm down when my child in missing?
My vision blurs, fury and terror mixing until I nearly collapse. Bree’s face flashes in my mind. Her smile, her laughter. Her pure innocent joy.
“Please,”
I whisper.
“Please, she’s just a little girl.”
The officer sighs, still unmoved.
“Fill out this form, and if she doesn’t turn up, we’ll take the next steps.”
I slam my hands on the counter, and the world tilts.
The doors behind me explode open. Heavy boots cut across the tile, and Max is there before I can form the next frantic sentence. Arms already around me, pulling me into the solid wall of him. His chest is hot against my face, his heartbeat a hard drum beneath my ear.
“She’s gone, Max,”
I sob, words coming out in ragged gasps.
“I can’t find her and they won’t do anything until she’s been…”
“I know.”
His voice is a low, dangerous thing. He tucks my head against his neck, and the strong sound of his pulse steadies me for a second. Then I feel the phone pressed to his jaw, the click of a call.
“Ten minutes. Meet us at the clubhouse,”
he says into the phone, voice flat and fast. He hangs up and looks at me with an intensity that makes my knees weaken.
“I can’t leave,”
I babble.
“I have to find her…oh no. Micah…I have to get home…I have to…”
The world narrows to a pinpoint of white light, and then it rushes up at me. Everything tilts. My vision blurs. I try to force air into my lungs and fail.
Black closes my eyes.
I’m falling.
Strong hands catch me. Not the counter, not the tile…someone holds me steady. Max’s arms tighten, one hand braced under my shoulders, the other cradling my head. His breath is hot on my temple. For a beat, I feel unbelievably small and unbelievably held.
And so very unbelievably lost.