Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
By seven in the morning, I could hear people moving around outside Miranda’s door as they got ready for the day, and that made me even angrier. Someone must have heard something. Someone had to have noticed something.
I left a note for Miranda on her desk and stepped outside the room, my eyes roving over every person I saw. Guys and girls were moving from place to place, not making eye contact or interacting at all as they stared at their phones and started their days. A sense of futility settled around my shoulders like a heavy blanket. Those people wouldn’t have noticed if I’d come out of Miranda’s room covered in blood and reeking like a sewer.
My hands shook as I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my contacts, finally settling on one. The only person I could stomach talking to. The man I’d treated like crap and had been ignoring for weeks.
Chapter 13
Trevor
I’d been up half the night with the black Lab puppy I’d finally broken down and adopted, so when my phone rang I didn’t even bother to look to see who it was before answering it.
“You got Trevor Harris,” I grumbled, assuming it was a work call as I walked toward my truck.
“Hey, Trevor Harris,” a familiar voice replied, making me stumble to a stop and check the caller ID.
“Morgan Riley,” I said, unable to hide the surprise in my voice.
I knew I’d see her at some point, since she’d been in contact with my mom and had agreed to visit again sometime, but I hadn’t expected her ever to call me again. No, I pretty much figured I’d have to ignore the way she’d avoid me at any family function she brought Etta to, just to keep things civil.
“How’ve you been?” she asked.
I almost laughed, the question was so asinine. I’d gone from missing her like crazy to thinking that I may have made the wrong decision when I’d backed off, and I’d finally landed on being pissed at how she’d handled things and even more pissed at myself for getting into that situation in the first place. Why the hell was she calling me?
“I’m good,” I answered flatly. I climbed into my truck and started her up without another word. I sure as hell wasn’t going to carry the conversation. She was the one who’d called me.
“That’s good,” she said, the last word kind of fading to nothing at the end.
It was then that I noticed that her voice was off. Something was different. Something was wrong.
“Is Etta okay?” I asked.
“Yeah, she’s fine,” Morgan replied instantly. “She’s good.”
Then silence again. Not a single word that gave any kind of indication as to why she’d called me or what she needed. She just sat there on the phone, like it was completely normal.
We both broke the silence at the same time.
“What do you—”
“I think someone drugged my sister.”
“Say what?” I snapped, my hand tightening on the steering wheel.
“I think someone drugged her,” she said again, sounding completely baffled.
“You gotta give me some context here,” I replied, trying to stay focused on the road. “Who drugged her?”
“I don’t know,” Morgan ground out. “I have no idea. She told me she can’t even remember where she went and then she woke up in her dorm room.”
“She’s still in Oregon?” I asked, turning into the parking lot at work. “Do you need me to go over there?”
I couldn’t imagine something like that happening to Kate or Ani while I was in a completely different state. The thought of being unable to get to them made me livid.
“No,” Morgan replied. “No, I’m here.”
“You’re where?”
“I’m in Bend. I’m with my sister.”
“You were with her?” I barked, my breath catching.
“She called me after,” she clarified. “I drove up last night.”
“Where’s Etta?”
“She’s with me,” she answered, like it was the most normal thing in the world.
“Jesus Christ,” I mumbled, throwing my truck into park as soon as I’d reached my parking spot. “Is your sister okay? Is she hurt? Are you okay? What do you need?” The words tumbled out before I could think them through.
“I’m okay,” Morgan said, her voice wobbling. “I don’t need anything.”
“Are you sure?” After all the time that had passed and her absolute rejection, there had to be a reason for her call. At that point, I didn’t even care what it was. I just wanted to give her whatever she needed.
Maybe that made me a sucker. I didn’t care. If there was ever something in my power to give that Morgan needed, I was pretty sure I’d do my best to give it to her.
“I guess I just needed to hear your voice,” she said quietly.
I felt those words in my chest.
“You can hear my voice whenever you want,” I reminded her. It had never been my decision to stop talking—that had been all her doing.