made the left into our duplex. The front porch light was on, but the lights were out. Carly and Josiah would be off doing their thing for their bowling league which basically was slamming more drinks than pins that they would topple.
My gaze moved to the duplex to the left that was just as vacant. Jack’s car was nowhere to be found.
Blowing out a strained breath, I came to a stop, killed the engine, and cranked open the door.
Shivers rolled across my flesh the second I stepped out.
That creeping dread chasing me home.
I slung my bag up high on my shoulder. Well, that was right after I’d fumbled around to find the mace that Dad had insisted on when I started driving and had been sittin’ in the bottomless pit of my bag for the last five years.
My footsteps were slowed, and my breaths were heavy and hard, punting into the air.
I was being ridiculous.
Completely ridiculous.
That was until I took the two steps onto the porch and my eyes hit the disgusting words that had been painted in huge letters across the wood.
FREAK FUCKER.
My hand flew to my mouth to try to stop the sob from ripping out. It got loose anyway, my vision blurry from the instant tears as I stumbled around and searched the dusky vacancy.
Only the howl of the trees murmured back.
I fumbled for my phone and typed out the text.
Me: I need you.
Twenty-Two
Evan
I flew the streets of Gingham Lakes in the direction of Frankie Leigh’s house.
Pulse pounding so fiercely it was making it difficult to see. Difficult to think.
Rage flooded my bloodstream as streetlamps flickered to life above. Day fading to darkness and night settling in a dreary cloud over the city.
Every second that ticked by made me feel like I was going insane.
Felt hostage to this mess I wasn’t sure how to get out of.
How could I ensure that the ones I loved weren’t getting put in the path of a firing squad when I had no fucking clue what the sin had been?
Mind going crazy trying to figure out why the fuck someone would do this.
Unless it was Jack.
Violence skated the surface of my skin at the thought.
Still, my mind rejected it. I knew Frankie thought he was responsible, but hadn’t this been going on before I’d met him? That note in the diaper bag? The word on my car? Or were they separate? A coincidence?
Either way, knew the Jack was pissed.
I didn’t trust him for a second.
Second the text had come in, I’d rushed downstairs and asked my parents to watch Everett, told them something was going down at Frankie’s place, my fingers tapping out a quick message to Seth to let him know there had been another message.
He’d texted back that he would head over to check it out.
Didn’t matter that I knew he was going to be there. Couldn’t stop myself from speeding down the streets to get to her.
Needing to know she was okay.
That she was fine.
Squeezing the steering wheel, I took a right a little sharper than prudent, tires skidding through the curve, the vibration of the pull at the rear of my car filling my nerves with another shock of aggression.
The silence in my head screamed.
I had to get to her.
Had to.
I slowed only a fraction when I hit the neighborhood street, eyes scanning the house numbers that whizzed by.
Guessed I already knew which address was going to be hers, the way I was jerking the car to the left in a sharp turn, jamming on my brakes in the gravel lot in the front.
I hauled out of my car the second I put it in park, jumping out, noticing the black muscle car that was sitting at an angle in front of the duplex attached to Frankie’s.
Shit.
Frankie had said that bastard wasn’t there. That his car was gone. Told me she was fine, she just needed me there.
Fury lit. Hands in fists as I started up the two steps onto Frankie’s porch, vision going red when I saw the entirety of it covered in the two words. She was jerking the door open like she’d been standing on the other side waiting for me to get there, my heart nearly cracking in relief at the sight of her before I sensed the movement coming at me from behind.
I glanced over my shoulder to find that piece of shit charging for me.
Rage pumped out of control.
A shock of adrenaline to my system.
Before I could get turned around, asshole