Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 73664 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73664 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
You’ve got to be kidding me.
Someone’s pounding on my freaking bedroom door. Again.
I’m already up, just coming out of the bathroom. Chance has Miles and me trained now, but damn. I blearily glance across the room to the clock on the side table. It’s barely six.
“What the fuck do you want?” I yell.
“You decent?”
Of course. Chance’s voice.
I’m in my boxers. “Barely.”
The door opens, and Chance walks in.
“Sure, please come in.” I roll my eyes.
“Hey, is Carly here? Please tell me she’s here.”
A jolt of fear lances through me. I stiffen and narrow my gaze. “No. She went home last night. You know that. I took her myself.”
“I know, but her father’s on the phone. Apparently they were supposed to have breakfast this morning, and she’s not there.”
“What?” That lance of fear morphs into all-out panic. “What do you mean she’s not there?” I shout.
“Talk to him yourself.” He holds out his cell.
I grab it from him and put it to my ear. “Mr. Vance?”
“Where the hell is she, Bridger?”
“She’s not here. I swear to God. I dropped her off last night. I watched her go inside, even spoke with your wife.”
“That’s correct,” he replies.
“No note?” I ask.
“No.”
Chance is watching me, easily following the conversation.
“We need to find her. Where could she have gone, and why?”
“Stop lying to me, Bridger,” he snaps.
I run a hand through my hair. “Mayor, this is serious. I don’t know where she is. You have a right to be panicked. I am, too. Please. We need to work together to figure this out. What can you tell me? Was her bed slept in?”
Silence for a few seconds, until—
“Yes. Her bed is unmade.”
“Oh fuck. Fuck. You don’t think…” I don’t want to say the rest, that someone may have taken her from her bed.
“You think I wouldn’t have heard if someone came into my house and took my daughter?”
“I don’t know. I just don’t know.” I run my fingers through my hair again, scratch my forehead, nearly breaking skin. “We’ve got to find her. Where are you? Still at the house?”
“Yeah. The rain is finally starting to die down.”
“Why don’t I—”
Miles runs into my room. He’s got on jeans and a shirt, still unbuttoned. His feet are bare and he’s wet, clearly having been out in the rain. “Hey, I’ve got some news.”
“Hold on a minute, Mayor. I’m going to put you on speakerphone. Miles says he knows something.”
“Hey, Mayor,” Miles says. “Can you hear me?”
“Yeah,” comes Vance’s voice to the phone.
“I talked to Lexie at the stables. That’s Dr. Davis, our vet. Apparently Carly got a call from one of the hands in the middle of the night to come look at a colt that just had surgery. They called her because they couldn’t get hold of Lexie.”
“So she’s there then, at the ranch?” Vance says, his voice full of worry.
I feel a hint of hope that she’s okay.
Miles glances my way. “No. Lexie says she left around five-thirty, said she had a breakfast date with you.”
“She’s not back yet,” he replies.
“All right.” Chance’s voice remains steady. “Then we know she’s somewhere between here and your place, Mayor.”
“The storm,” I say. “You don’t think…”
“Carly grew up here,” Vance says. “She’s seen storms like this.”
“I’ve never seen a storm like this,” Chance offers. “I grew up here as well. Austin, let’s go. We’ll get in the four-by-four and find her.”
“I’ll start the other way,” Vance says.
“All right.” Chance rubs his unshaven jaw. “Whoever finds her first, call the other right away with the location.”
“You got it.” Vance ends the call on his end.
My body has gone numb. Completely numb. My fingers lose their feeling, and Chance’s phone clatters onto the hardwood floor at my bare feet.
He picks it up. “Hey. We’re going to find her. Carly’s a smart girl. Resourceful. And she knows how to help herself.”
I don’t reply.
I don’t doubt any of my brother’s words. I have full faith in Carly to take care of herself.
My faith, however, stops when others are involved. What if someone blindsided her and she ran off the road? What if she’s lying somewhere in a ditch? Unable to help herself?
Or worse…
I can’t go there.
I absolutely cannot lose Carly.
Because…
Fuck.
I love her.
I fucking love her.
And we didn’t know where she was, in a storm. Alone.
“Austin.” Miles snaps me out of my thoughts. “We have to go. Now.”
I’m still in my boxers.
“Get some clothes on,” Chance says. “As soon as you’re ready, we’re out of here.”
No.
This can’t be Carly’s car.
The vehicle is off the road, and it looks like it slid a dozen feet or more to the side. A mud slick, at least six inches thick, coats the pavement. It’s clear the creek flooded the banks with not just water, but debris and dirt from upstream. The bridge didn’t wash out, but it’s a fucking mess.