Chapter Twenty-Three
Skylar Parish
I can’t reach Evie. I’ve tried his cellphone a million times. He was supposed to come over after visiting his family yesterday, but I haven’t heard a word, and it’s already midday.
Kelly and Henry are on the way over; they haven’t heard from him either. I’m tempted to find Ashley’s contact, but I have no way of doing so. I don’t know her friends or her family.
It just doesn’t make sense. Our date on Monday went well, and we spent most of Tuesday and Wednesday either taking our finals or studying for our finals. His father called out of the blue, asking him to come home, but he’s convinced that Everett is dating Ashley, so it can’t be for an argument.
Unless… Did Everett do something else to piss off his family? Did he eat the wrong vegetables or something?
I’m confused and majorly worried. I even drove down to the beach and popped into Angie’s Diner, just in case he was lingering there.
It’s not like Everett to disappear, and knowing his situation with his family, I’m panicking more by the second. The only reason I haven’t stormed into the Carmichael residence is that, if it’s not them causing this disappearance, I’d be outing how much I truly care for their son.
It would put Everett’s deceit on the line.
The front door to my apartment is unlocked, so Kelly and Henry barge right in, finding me lying in bed in distress.
“He’s just gone?” Kelly rushes to ask, panting in the doorway.
Henry rolls his eyes from behind her. “He’s probably just fucking some sorority girl and not checking his phone. You guys are being dramatic.”
“He is not,” I insist, albeit a bit defensively.
They both stare at me for a long moment, confused and startled, before Kelly clears her throat and says,
“Have you checked our usual hangouts?”
“I have. He wasn’t there. Do you happen to have Ashley’s phone number?”
Henry tilts his head curiously. “Ashley who?”
“From the business department. She’s blonde and pretty and a little sassy,” I explain, but they’re both looking at me like I’m crazy. “Ugh. Never mind.”
“Have you tried calling his house? Maybe he’s home,” Henry offers.
“No, I… I haven’t called them.” I don’t explain further, and this fact seems to interest them both.
“It’s a Saturday; let’s just head over there,” Kelly suggests, shrugging casually as she turns toward the hallway.
“Wait!” I shout, stumbling out of bed. “It’s probably best that we—”
“He’s been missing since yesterday afternoon,” she deadpans. “We’re going to talk to his parents. Come on.”
And suddenly I’m in her car, watching the houses fly by as we head toward Rockhill. I’m happy to have their support and their company, but just in case something bad is happening inside that house, I can’t allow them to go inside.
Not only is it not my secret to tell, but it might only enrage his father more. I couldn’t bear being the reason Everett is put in such a difficult situation. I love him too much.
His absence is killing me, and it’s only been roughly a day. Every moment that I cannot find him, a piece of me disappears alongside him. Where am I meant to go, if not to where he is?
Where am I meant to place my love without him here to carry it?
And sure, if one day Everett woke up and decided to leave me for good, I would survive it.
I would heal over so many years, and I would wake up in the morning and sleep through the night.
I would revert back to who I was before I met him, before I truly understood him—I would become less, but I would still become.
But I’d rather not. I am not suited for torment, and that is all that experience would be. I need him by my side; I do not want to learn how to survive without him.
“We’re here,” Kelly suddenly says, and my head snaps up to see the Carmichael residence standing like an omen before us.
She begins to open her door.
“Kelly, wait.” Grabbing her arm, I pull her back into the car. She watches me expectantly, and my gaze flickers between her and Henry in the backseat. “Let me go alone.”
“What?” Henry questions. “Why alone?”
“Listen, there are things about Evie’s home life that you don’t understand. Things that he should be the one to say, if he wishes to. So, just… let me go alone.”
Henry raises his hands in surrender, leaning back against his seat. Kelly shifts awkwardly before giving me a subtle nod and a weary frown.
“I’ll be okay,” I assure them.
Slipping out, I shut the door before they can say another word.
The walk from the curb to the front door takes an eternity. I walk and walk for forever, my hands shaky and my mind fuzzy. I know for certain that if I am pushed too hard, I will blow up.
I will become the version of myself that I cannot get rid of.
Taking a deep breath, I knock on the door. Ash Carmichael answers a second later, as if he’s been expecting my arrival.
I have met the man only a handful of times, and not once on his own property, but he’s never looked at me like this before. With resentment.
“Come in,” he commands, nodding toward the interior of the house as he walks away, leaving the door open.
I send one last wistful glance toward Kelly’s car and head inside.
It’s a beautiful house, but unlike mine, it doesn’t feel like a home. It looks as if no one lives here, and Ash is a realtor showing me a model for purchase.
Following Ash toward what looks to be a living room, I watch as he sits on the couch with perfect posture.
“Hello, Mr. Carmichael,” I greet politely. “I’m looking for Everett. I haven’t seen him in a day.”
He does not reply, but stares at me long and hard. I tuck my trembling hands into the pockets of my jeans.
“Have you heard from him?” I add.
“Heard from who?” a feminine voice asks, and Felicita, Everett’s adoptive mom, comes strutting in.
She sits next to her husband, sending me disgusted glares every few seconds. What the fuck is their problem?
“From Everett,” Ash finally says.
“Oh. No, we haven’t. Not since he left yesterday,” she answers dismissively.
“Left?” I repeat. “Left to go where exactly?”
Ash clears his throat. “He asked us not to tell you.”
“He… asked you not to tell me?” I sound like a broken record, mimicking their every word. But this is all going over my head, and something feels very wrong.
“Yes. He said that he was leaving and wanted you to leave him alone.”
Now I know for sure that this is a lie. Everett would never ask someone to send me away, for me to leave him be. Even before our romantic affair, he wouldn’t even sleep on the couch, cuddling up to me on the bed instead.
“Right,” I reply, studying their distant expressions.
I know that now is my cue to leave—that they likely won’t give me much else. But this entire situation is too odd, and I have to find him.
“Unfortunately,” I continue calmly, “I don’t believe you. If you don’t tell me where he is, I’ll have no choice but to contact the police.”
Ash slides a hand over his perfectly gelled black hair, his gaze turning into something nasty and hateful. “I’m not sure what my son has told you, but you have no right to question me.”
“So you admit that there is something to tell?” I counter. “That something is being hidden?”
“Get out,” Felicita commands, pointing toward the front door.
“I will not. Not until you tell me where he—”
“Enough!” Ash shouts. “You ruined my son! I will not stand here and listen to this attitude of yours. Everett was tired of your influence and deemed it fit to leave you behind. That’s that.”
Deemed it fit to leave me behind…
I don’t care if this makes me a narcissist or a monster, but I know with everything in me that he wouldn’t do that. I can feel him tugging at the end of this cord that connects us, and he’s saying that he misses me.
“Whatever you did to him, I will find out. I will help him,” I declare, and Ash stands to his full height, towering over me.
“You will get the fuck out of my home, is what you will do. Now.”
Something is screaming within me. A voice is shouting to be heard, begging me to stay right here and fight. But how? With what proof?
Could I… could I find some?
“Fine,” I concede, slumping my shoulders. “Sorry, sir. I got carried away.”
Ash nods once. “Then go.”
“Sure. But if I’m never going to see Evie again, could I grab my things from his room? He borrowed some important school notes that I need.”
There are no school notes, but I’m banking on him forgetting that our classes are over and I have no need for mystery papers.
And I bluffed well, because Ash huffs in annoyance and waves a hand toward the stairs. “Top of the stairs on the right. You have five minutes.”
I thank him, scurrying up the steps and into what he has said is Everett’s room. And yeah, it must be, because it smells just like him.
Despite my time crunch, I take a moment to breathe it in. To let it settle into my bones, and imagine him and me in bed together, snuggled up and safe.
God, I hope he’s safe.
My eyes dart around the room, taking in his bed and his desk, the discarded clothes and the open closet. Half of his shirts are missing from their hangers, the top drawer of his dresser empty.
It truly does look like he ran away. Like he took his master plan and cut a few steps out, running straight toward the finish line.
It would be me that he cut out, me that he could do without so easily that he’d leave in such a rush. But no. It isn’t possible. I refuse to believe it until he’s saying it to my face once I find him, and I will find him.
I peek around his closet, his bed, the messy dresser. Nothing is giving me a hint or a signal, and just as I’m about to give up and hightail it out of here, I notice his laptop on the desk.
Why would he leave this? It seems important enough. Lifting the lid, the screen flickers on, revealing his email. Several brand names from ads are listed, even an email from our college talking about graduation schedules.
But at the very top, there is a singular message marked important.
Everett Young, your reservation at the OceanSide Inn has been confirmed. Your check-in time is 3 p.m. on December 7th, with the checkout time of 11 a.m. on December 9th. Thank you for your reservation!
An inn? He’s at a motel? Why would he—
Footsteps sound on the stairs, and I quickly snap a photo of the screen before slamming the laptop shut. Just as Ash barges in, I lean down and pick up a few stray papers and a hoodie.
“Sorry, I’m leaving now. I got my things.” I smile politely, pushing past him and into the hallway.
“Skylar,” Ash calls after me, and I stop halfway through my descent, but I don’t turn around. “Respect his decision. He does not love you.”
It’s almost comical. How would Ash know if he loves me or not? How—wait. Does this mean Ash knows?
Oh, fuck. I have to find Everett. I have to find him now.
I sprint from the house without another word, practically diving into Kelly’s passenger seat.
“What the hell?!” she shouts, peeling away from the curb on instinct alone.
I’m panting too hard to reply, clutching my chest as Ash’s words circle my brain. He does not love you. He does not love you. He does not love you.
It’s all wrong. It’s all so fucking wrong, and I’m unsure how to fix it.
“What the hell happened, Sky?” Henry grills me.
I may not know how to fix this, but I know where to start.
Holding my phone up to Kelly, I reply sternly, “We are driving to this inn. Right now.”