Chapter 31
THIRTY-ONE
KAYA
Goose bumps dance over my skin as a bone-deep chill settles in. An inescapable bitterness that grows colder with each passing hour.
I wake my phone for the millionth time and swipe the screen to see if I missed a notification. Nothing. Like every previous time. No missed calls. No voice mails. No text messages.
The officer stationed at the bowling alley hasn’t left her post. Several times, I’ve heard the crackle of her radio but couldn’t make out what was said. Her expression, however, has me on edge.
People come and go from the bowling alley with smiles on their faces. I hate how completely oblivious or indifferent they are to the horror existing in town. It only adds to my frustration, my anger, my hurt.
Mom offered to come keep me company. I declined. Dad said he’d speak with the Seven and help in whatever way possible. That eased some of my nausea.
The higher the crescent moon rises in the sky, the longer I sit on this bench and wait for an update, the more my insides grow hollow.
Deep in my soul, I am convinced Tucker’s disappearance isn’t my fault. I mentally repeat as much a dozen times a minute. But my heart isn’t fully on board. Guilt continues to gnaw at the beating organ. And that remorse has my mind in a perpetual Ping-Pong match of culpable and innocent.
I’m tired of sitting on this damn bench. I need to leave. To scour the town for Tucker. To do something .
What I need is a car. And someone to spill my frustrations to.
Unlocking my phone, I scroll through my contacts and tap call on the one person who’d run through fire to rescue me. The call connects after the second ring.
“Saw the AMBER alert a little bit ago. What’s going on?” I’ve never heard Clarissa so serious or distressed. “Talk to me.” I love how she skips the pleasantries. How she gets right to the point.
The backs of my eyes sting as I open my mouth to tell her everything. But the words catch in my throat.
“Kaya?” My name comes out edgy yet affectionate.
An ounce of concern is all it takes for me to fall apart. The sting behind my eyes strengthens a beat before the first tear spills down my cheek. I cover my mouth with a hand as a whimper slips between my lips. “Will you come sit with me?” I ask, voice borderline unintelligible.
“On my way.” Muffled sounds echo through the phone line. “Are you home?”
I swipe my cheek. “No, the bowling alley.”
The line goes quiet a moment.
Please don’t ask. Not now.
“Have you eaten?”
My stomach grumbles in response, but the last thing I want is food. “No. Maybe later.”
“You sure?”
I sniffle. “Yes.”
“Kay. Be there in ten.”
“Thanks, Rissa.”
Clarissa obviously defies all traffic laws because she pulls into the parking lot seven minutes later. As she rushes across the lot, warmth expands in the center of my chest. Worry mars her expression, but she also looks ready to take down anyone in her path.
“I’m here.” Her purse falls to the ground in front of the bench as she sits and wraps me in the fiercest hug. “I’ve got you.”
I ignore the world around us and fall into her. Go boneless and let her hold me steady. Cry until my eyes puff up and my throat turns hoarse. Tremble in her arms until her warmth seeps into my bones and stamps out some of the cold.
Over and over, she rubs between my shoulder blades. Strokes the length of my hair and tucks the occasional wayward strand behind my ear. Hugs me harder to her chest and gently rocks us. She doesn’t push me to talk. Once this emotional release ends, she knows I’ll spill everything. Well, as much as I’m willing to share on a public bench.
When it feels as though I can’t cry another tear, I ease out of her hold. She reaches for her purse, fishes out a travel pack of tissues and hands me one.
“Thanks.” I sniffle and blot around my eyes.
She plucks a few more tissues from the pack and sets them on my lap. “Always.” And I know she means more than always having tissues. The single word means she will always be there for me, no matter the hour or day or circumstances.
So I dive in headfirst and tell her everything. I start at the beginning and don’t leave a single detail out. Some of it, she already knows, but it bears repeating.
I tell her about the dinner dates with Ray and Tucker. The cooking lessons that were infinitely better than any of Ray’s online videos. Spending more time with Ray and Tucker—at the restaurant during cooking school, but more often outside of that time. Dinner with Adriel and my parents, and how jealous and angry Ray was at seeing us.
And the sex… I all but melt as I tell her Ray has ruined me for other men.
Then I change topics, my expression and mood more solemn. I tell her about the past couple of weeks and the panic Tucker’s mother provoked. A visit and the note that tilted Ray and Tucker’s world sideways.
All I wanted was to level it out a little. Give them a touch of levity. Let them ignore their troubles for a few hours.
My eyes sting again as I say leaving the house today was my idea. My nose burns when I tell Clarissa how perfect our lunch date was at the diner. How Ray’s dad came to the table and talked with us. How normal it felt to be with Ray and Tucker, out in the open. When I share Tucker’s excitement over beating his dad at bowling, my throat starts to close.
I admit how my heart plummeted when we couldn’t find Tucker. How my insides shriveled when Ray yelled and spit the blame in my face. How my chest hollowed when Ray gave me his back, so angry and terrified. And how empty I’ve felt since Ray got in his car with his sister and drove away.
Painful as it is, I will find a way to accept his never wanting to see me again after this. If it’s what he truly wants, I will let him go. Even if my heart disagrees, refuses.
A throbbing ache settles in my chest, and I press the heel of my palm to my breastbone. The thought of never seeing Ray or Tucker again…
One dreadful pang, one hollow notion, is all it takes for the subconscious truth to surface.
I love Ray and Tucker.
I am in love with Ray.
“What do I do?” I cover my face with my hands. “I messed up.”
“No, Kaya.”
My hands fall to my lap as I twist to look at her. My brows pinch together. “What?”
“I said no.”
I open my mouth to ask what she means, but she holds up a hand and cuts me off.
“You will not shoulder the blame.” She vehemently shakes her head. “You will not take responsibility for some asshole’s actions.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “No, Kaya. Hell no.”
“But—”
“No,” she says louder then softens her expression. “You’re allowed to live, Kaya. Ray and Tucker, too.” She takes my hands in hers and gives them a gentle squeeze. “Our time on this messed-up planet isn’t long. We can’t predict what will happen today, tomorrow, or next week. All we can do is live in the present. Enjoy life. Go out in the world and be happy. If we crawled in our caves every time something bad happened, we’d never come out.”
Clarissa’s right. Pausing life because someone else might do something isn’t living; it’s existing in a constant state of fear.
I’d rather live a short life and die happy than live a long life and be miserable.
But how do I get Ray to see that perspective?
“You’re ri?—”
My phone rings in my lap, Ray’s name on the screen. I fumble to pick it up, and with a shaky hand, I answer.
“Ray?”
“Hey, Fire Eyes.”
God, he sounds exhausted. Wait. He called me Fire Eyes. Does this mean he’s no longer mad at me?
“Sorry I was an asshole earlier. I didn’t mean what I said.”
The backs of my eyes sting for the umpteenth time today. “Thank you.”
He has no idea how much I needed to hear his apology. And once everything is back to normal, I intend to make him grovel. A lot.
“Did you find Tucker? Is he okay?”
He sighs, and his agony bleeds through the phone and settles in the center of my chest. “Not yet, but we have a lead. Will…” He pauses, and I picture him with his eyes closed as he composes himself. “Will you come to me and help us?”
I glance around the parking lot, then at the officer stationed just out of earshot. “What about the bowling alley?”
“The cop will stay, but Emerson and Tymber don’t think they’ll return there with Tucker.”
They?
I’ll ask later. “Where are you?”
“Tymber Woulf Security. We’re regrouping while we wait for another call.” He groans. “Shit. You don’t have your car. Fuck. ”
“Don’t worry about it. Clarissa’s here. She’ll give me a ride.”
Clarissa nods as she rises from the bench and digs out her fob.
“Fuck, I’m sorry. So damn sorry.”
“Later,” I say, not wanting the focus to shift from what matters right now—finding Tucker. “I’ll be there soon.”
“I…” Ray starts, then stops. “Drive safe, Fire Eyes.”
A little more of the chill vanishes from my bones. “Promise,” I whisper.