Chapter Eleven
I think I’m officially dating someone.
Is this how normal girls feel? Kind of giddy on the inside? Flushed whenever they’re around their guy? Eager to see him again?
Weston took me out on a perfect date and then gave me the sweetest kiss.
It was all so very romantic. Just like from the stories Raegan would sometimes read to me.
A pang hits me in the center of my chest. I miss my family. There was always chaos and someone was usually fighting, but it was comfortable and loving all the time. I wonder if Mom is doing okay without me.
Thinking of my family has me circling back to my brother.
Rowdy is going through a lot, but I don’t know how to help him.
While I settle in and find a nice life here in town, Rowdy is edgy and intense as though he expects the bottom to drop out at any time.
Drinking is obviously problematic for him.
I hope he can keep from doing it because what transpired in the RV between us was awkward beyond belief.
Weston could only pop in for lunch this afternoon because Gwen needed him to do some things around the house, but it was nice being around him.
Aunt Eve and Uncle Atticus were on their best behavior too.
Once they learned he wasn’t going to take advantage of me, I know they warmed up a little to him.
He even made the twins giggle a time or two, which is impressive since they’re pretty much closed off to the rest of the world.
Tomorrow will start a full week of my different therapies and classes.
I’m excited about the schedule on my calendar.
Being able to learn more about my condition and how to navigate the dark world I’m in is necessary for my autonomy.
As I delve into adulthood, I want to be able to take care of myself and not be someone else’s burden.
“Where’s Rowdy?” Wild asks when he enters the cabin, not long after Weston had to leave. “I haven’t seen him all day.”
I didn’t even know he was gone. I’d assumed he was hiding out in the RV.
“He took my truck to town,” Uncle Atticus says. “Said he had some things to take care of.”
Wild scoffs. “Like what?”
“Didn’t ask,” he replies with a shrug. “Rowdy’s a big boy. He can take care of himself.”
I can feel Wild’s stare on me burning hot. We’re both thinking it. Not right now he can’t. Excusing myself, I make my way to the room I’m staying in and snatch up my phone. “Call Rowdy.”
It begins ringing. Over and over until it goes to the voice mailbox. I end the call without leaving him a message.
“Text Rowdy.” Once the digital voice confirms it will and asks me what I want it to say, I reply with, “Where are you?”
My stomach twists and the good food I just ate sours.
Uneasiness settles in my gut. It’s strange for Rowdy to go anywhere without anyone.
Back home, it was the norm. He liked to get away and enjoyed the solitude.
And while he probably still wants that here, I’m not sure why he’d need Uncle Atticus’s truck for it.
A long walk in the woods would do it for Rowdy.
Heavy footsteps thud into the room and I angle my head to listen. Too heavy for Aunt Eve or the twins. Since Uncle Atticus usually hits his knuckles on the door before stepping inside to alert me it’s him, I narrow it down to Wild being my visitor.
“Where do you think he went, Wild?”
“You know, it’s kind of creepy how you do that,” he says instead of answering. “Are you sure you can’t see? I bet this is all some elaborate scheme to get attention. Raegan taught you well.”
I shake my head and sigh. “You’re noisy and easy to pick out of a crowd. It’s your mom who sneaks up on me sometimes and I never know.”
A shudder ripples through me. That woman is quiet as a mouse and moves soundlessly. Thankfully, she loves me and watches out for me. Otherwise, it’d be slightly terrifying if I didn’t know her so well.
He comes to stand close to me, his cologne scent overpowering my senses. “I don’t know, but it makes me nervous. Want to go for a ride with me to see if we can find him?”
“Yes,” I say with a nod. “He’s not answering my calls or texts, which worries me.”
Rowdy is capable and fierce. I’m not necessarily worried about him getting hurt or in an accident or anything. I’m more concerned about his depression consuming him and he’s somewhere suffering all alone with it.
Once my coat and boots are on, I let Wild lead me out of the cabin to his truck. We’re quiet as he drives into town, each of us lost in thought.
“What the fuck?”
I tense up and turn my head toward him. “What is it?”
“Roadblock. Police are everywhere.”
Panic claws its way up my chest and shreds my throat. “What if it’s Rowdy?”
Wild grunts, but I can sense the dread rippling off him. He slows to a stop and then rolls down his window.
“Everything okay, Officer?” Wild asks, voice tight.
“Crime scene,” the officer states. “This whole road is going to be blocked off for a while.”
“How come?”
“I’m not at liberty to say.”
“Is someone hurt?” Wild demands. “Our friend is missing.”
The policeman sucks in a sharp breath. “Your friend male or female?”
“Male,” we both answer in unison.
He’s quiet for a beat. “What does your friend look like?”
I’m unnerved by the fact he was ready to turn us around but now he’s asking about our missing friend. This can’t be good.
“About six-one or two,” Wild says gruffly. “Deep blue eyes, dark blond hair. Actually, his hair looks more brown since it’s cut shorter. It gets blonder when it grows out.”
He’s rambling. My heart aches.
“Facial hair? Piercings? Tattoos?” the police officer asks.
“Uh, short beard. No tattoos or piercings. He’s, uh, got some scarring on his forearm. Track marks.”
Track marks?
I don’t know what that means.
“I see. And what was he wearing when you last saw him?”
Again, with surprising attention to detail, Wild describes Rowdy’s clothes, even down to a hole on the back of his right sleeve.
“Was there a car accident?” Wild asks, tension bleeding from him. “I can give you the vehicle make and model he was driving too.”
“No vehicle around the scene.” The policeman then says, “Here’s my card. Go back the way you came. Call this number later. If your friend shows up, let us know.”
Wild starts to ask another question, but the words die in his mouth. I get the impression the officer walked away, conversation over.
“Something bad happened here,” I murmur. “I can feel it.”
Nerves buzz under my skin as my imagination runs wild. There wouldn’t be a ton of policemen turning people around if it weren’t for something awful.
Is it Rowdy?
Did he somehow get hurt?
“What now?” I choke out, voice quavering.
“Now we call my uncle, Will. He’s the police chief. If it’s Rowdy who’s hurt, he’ll tell us.”
Waiting is agony.
When Wild called Will earlier, he was gruff and sounded stressed out. I felt like he too gave us the runaround. All we got were vague assurances that he was going to find out.
But it’s been three hours since that call.
More time has passed and Rowdy still hasn’t shown up.
Something awful happened to him. I don’t want to think it, but I feel it trembling in my bones. He’s hurt, or worse, and there’s nothing we can do about it.
Please be alive and okay.
The wilderness is full of danger, and yet, Rowdy is the most threatened within society. Make it make sense.
This is all your fault…
If you hadn’t tried to kill yourself, we wouldn’t be here.
The guilt is eating me alive.
“Want something to eat?” Wild asks from the front of the RV.
“No.” I hug Rowdy’s pillow and pray he’ll show up soon.
I’m not sure how much time passes, but my phone rings, alerting me to a new call.
Weston calling. Weston calling. Weston calling.
“Hello?”
“Hey, baby,” Weston says in greeting. “Did you see the news?”
Wild shakes the whole RV as he thunders across it and into Rowdy’s room. “What news? Who is that?”
“Weston,” I blurt out. “No, tell me.”
“Weston Simmons?” Wild asks at the same time Weston says, “Someone died.”
This gets our attention.
“Who the fuck died, Simmons?” Wild demands, snatching my phone from my hand.
Weston grunts in irritation. “Hey, man. What’s up?”
“You not getting to the point is what’s up. Who fucking died?”
“I’m worried about my brother. He’s missing and not answering our calls,” I explain, voice shaking. “We were going into town to look for him, but the road was blocked off. They sent us away, but when we inquired about Rowdy, they suddenly had a lot of questions for us.”
Weston is silent for a beat. “They haven’t identified the victim yet.”
Victim.
“Out with it,” Wild growls.
“I don’t have much to say, but the police are definitely calling it a homicide. There weren’t many details. We just never have this sort of thing happen around here, so I wanted to tell Destiny about it.”
Wild hands me my phone back and storms off. I soon hear him on the phone with someone else. Most likely it’s his uncle again.
“You really think something happened to him?” Weston asks gently. “Damn. I’m sorry.”
My eyes burn with tears and I choke back the urge to cry. “I’m sure he’s fine. He has to be.”
That’s the truth of the matter. I will never forgive myself if something happens to him here because of me.
“Wait? What?” Wild bellows from the front of the RV.
“I’ll call you back later.”
I end the call with Weston and make my way down the hall to where Wild is cursing under his breath. He flinches when my hand touches his arm.
“Yeah, okay.” He sighs heavily, jerking from my touch. “I’m not jumping to conclusions. You’re right.”
He slams his phone down hard on a surface and I jolt at the loud sound.
“What happened?” I ask, running my hand along a countertop until I’m able to touch him again. “Was that your uncle?”
“It was my uncle, yeah. Fuck. It was bad.”
“What was?”
“The state of the, uh, victim.” He swallows audibly. “Throat cut and face bashed in with a blunt object, so identifying the body is difficult. Right now, they’re looking through missing persons who fit the build and sex of the victim.”
My knees buckle and Wild grabs onto me before I collapse. “Who could do something that horrific?”
I know the answer.
I was kidnapped by those awful types of people.
And now it’s here too?
“The body matches the general description of Rowdy,” Wild chokes out, “but Uncle Will doesn’t want us to get ahead of ourselves. There’s still so much they don’t know.”
With my fingers pressing into my chest, I attempt to suck air into my lungs. It has to be some other person. Not my brother. Not Rowdy. He’s strong and fearless. If someone had come at him, I’m confident he could have defended himself and gotten away.
He has to be okay.
Wild hugs me to him, squeezing me tightly. I burst into tears and I can feel his own tears soaking my hair. We hold on to one another as the reality of our situation hits us.
Rowdy is missing and there’s a dead body matching his description.
There’s no way to avoid the truth.
My brother might be dead.
“Why are you crying?” a deep voice demands. “Who hurt you?”
I tear myself out of Wild’s arms, twisting toward the sound of the voice. Cold air blasts inside as he enters the RV. Without a second thought, I launch myself in his general direction, flinging my arms around his neck when I find him.
“Rowdy! You’re alive!”