Highball Rush (Bootleg Springs #6) - Claire Kingsley Page 0,58

seen together for a little while.

It was an unspoken thing, the way Callie and I hung out without telling people. She didn’t have to explain to me why it was necessary to keep it a secret. She was sixteen, for one. I wasn’t about to make a move on a girl so much younger, but other people wouldn’t know that.

It wasn’t about that anyway. Had she been older, sure, I might have seen her differently. She was pretty as a summer day. And who knew, maybe someday, when she was a proper adult…

But I didn’t let myself think like that. It felt disrespectful to my friend. Because that’s what she was—my friend. We shared something, and the afternoons we spent together—playing music, singing, daydreaming—were some of the best times I’d ever had.

She didn’t look at me like everyone else, like she already knew exactly where my life was going and was unimpressed. Disappointed, even.

She looked at me like maybe I was worth something.

And yesterday, seeing her face at that outdoor concert, had been worth the trouble to smuggle her out of town. I’d made damn sure to get her back in plenty of time so she’d have a solid alibi in case her parents asked too many questions. But man, we’d had a good time.

I dumped the macaroni in the boiling water and gave it a stir. Scarlett slapped her palm on the stack of cards on the table. Apparently she and Bow were playing slap-Jack.

When I had some more money, I needed to get a bigger place. Of course, Bowie would be off to college soon. And it wouldn’t be long before Jameson would be on his own, too. Few years from now, I wouldn’t be hosting my siblings when things were rough at home anymore.

Things changed.

By the time we finished up dinner, it was getting on toward one, so we all hit the sack. I didn’t have to work in the morning, so maybe I’d take them all to Moonshine for breakfast. A stack of pancakes would make Scarlett happy. Jameson, too. I probably had enough pocket money to cover it. Wouldn’t make up for the shitty night, but it was something.

I got up and headed straight for the coffee maker. Bowie and Jameson were already awake, sitting on the floor with their backs to the couch, playing video games with the sound turned down. Scarlett was curled up on the couch, her eyes open, but only just, like she wasn’t quite ready to be awake yet.

“Morning,” Bowie said without looking away from the screen.

My phone rang. I figured it was Mom, but I saw the Tuckers’ number on the screen.

“Yeah.”

“Gibson? It’s Cass. Is Scarlett there?” There was urgency in her voice. That was weird.

“Yep,” I said. “She doesn’t look awake yet. Wanna talk to her?”

“Yeah, but Gibs, something happened.”

My spine straightened, my back muscles clenching. In that split second, I prepared myself to hear it. Probably a car accident. Had it been one or both of them? Jesus, I hoped Mom was okay. “What?”

“Callie Kendall is missing. She didn’t go home last night.”

It felt like I’d been kicked in the gut, all the air rushing from my lungs, and I almost dropped the phone. “She what?”

“I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s scary,” she said. “My dad left to start organizing a search.”

“Shit,” I muttered. Keeping my face carefully neutral, I walked into the other room and handed the phone to Scarlett.

“What’s wrong?” Bowie asked.

I hesitated for a second, not sure I could get the words out.

“What did you just say?” Scarlett shrieked into the phone. “Callie Kendall’s missing? You can’t be serious.”

“That,” I said, gesturing toward Scarlett.

Fear turned my blood to ice. She hadn’t made it home? It was morning. Did that mean she’d been out somewhere all night? Where the fuck would she have gone? Who would have…

Oh god, no. No, no, please no. Not Callie.

Scarlett hung up and the three of them looked at me, like I was supposed to have an answer.

“What do we do?” Scarlett asked, her voice unusually quiet.

“Y’all go on home,” I said, surprised I sounded normal. “She probably just spent the night at someone’s house and forgot to check in with her parents. She’ll turn up, or the cops will find her.”

“Hope so,” Scarlett said, pulling the blanket up to her chin.

It seemed to take forever and a fucking day for them to clear out. I griped at them that I had shit to do, but that didn’t

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