Evan

 

I left the O’Hare’s in a daze. I couldn’t wrap my head around any of it. Kendall had broken down, speaking faster than I could keep up. Her attempt to ruin Becca wasn’t random—some campaign of jealousy because Becca had grown up with a better life than us. No, it all came down to family and the things you’d do for them. I knew all about that. I did things to shelter Eli from a life he should never have to grow up in. But, Jesus, where was the line?

Apparently for Kendall, the buck stopped with her. Things had gotten out of control, and she no longer felt safe. It didn’t matter that she’d tried to ruin Becca, Lilly and Jay, and Peters’ lives; they were disposable. But when it no longer felt like a game, she panicked … and she wanted out.

But it was too late.

He was here, in Credence. Kane Larson was here, and he had Becca.

I’d wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake some sense into her, but I saw it in her eyes—the guilt, the realization that she’d fucked up. I felt no sympathy for her, not after what she’d done to Becca, to Becca’s friends, but I wasn’t cruel either. We might have been family, but Kendall and I were cut from a different cloth. She lacked empathy and had a cold heart. But one day, she’d have to pay for her sins.

I just hoped today wasn’t that day.

I’d left her crying into her hands and got the hell out of there with one thought in mind. Find Becca. Kendall said there were only three places he’d take her. Rogues, the old water plant on the outskirts of town, or his childhood home. It was almost ten, which meant Becca had been gone for at least three hours. I drove straight to Rogues. I knew it was unlikely he’d be there, but kids were always hanging around, so maybe they saw something.

They hadn’t.

I’d left with a sinking feeling in my chest. The water plant was the other side of town, and his childhood home was in a neighborhood near the school. I couldn’t cover both; I needed help. So I’d left Rogues and headed straight to Becca’s house.

I sat outside their house, knuckles white from the iron tight grip on the wheel. What was I supposed to say to them? “Fuck,” I muttered under my breath, slamming my fists against the leather. There wasn’t any time to waste. Not if Kane was as unstable as Kendall made out. We needed to find Becca before something happened … if it hadn’t already. I clamped my eyes shut, inhaling a shaky breath. She would be fine. She had to be.

Just as I opened the door, a truck pulled onto the drive. “Evan?” Mr. Torrence climbed out. He took one look at my face and said, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I think Kane Larson took Becca.” God, I was going to puke.

Mr. Torrence staggered back, the blood draining from his face, and propped himself up on the car door. “No. He isn’t … He can’t be …”

I scrubbed a hand down my face. This was not a conversation I ever planned on having with the father of the girl I’d fallen in love with.

“I-I thought she was home sick?”

It wasn’t lost on me that he hadn’t asked what the hell I was talking about or how I knew. He just accepted it because it was the truth. This was really happening.

“She was,” I said. “But Mrs. Torrence said she left the house earlier. I think she was set up, and now I think he has her.” Acid rushed up my throat, and I swallowed hard, forcing it down. “I think I know where she might be.”

He glanced around, but looking for what, I didn’t know. “Come inside; I need to make a call.”

He wanted to make a call, a fucking phone call? We needed to go and look for her right now, but before I could protest, Mr. Torrence ushered me into the house.

“Geary? Evan? What are you doing here?” Her eyes searched for answers, her face paling when she sensed the mood. “Oh god, what happened? Where’s Becca? No, no, no, what’s happened to my daughter?”

“Melinda, go into the kitchen and make some tea, please.” His voice was unnervingly calm. A stark contrast from the man outside only seconds earlier, devastated by the news his daughter was missing. “Evan, will you help my wife, please?”

What the actual fuck?

His eyes were stony with resolve, something I hadn’t witnessed before, and it occurred to me that Becca never told me what it was her father did for a living. From the murderous look on his face, I wasn’t sure I wanted to find out.

I nodded, following Mrs. Torrence into the kitchen. Her hands quivered uncontrollably as she began making tea. She didn’t speak, and I didn’t try to console her, the reality of the situation weighing heavily on us both. Finally, she was the one to break the silence. “I … I thought she was going to Lilly’s.”

“She wasn’t going to Lilly’s, Mrs. Torrence,” I said, unable to hide the annoyance in my voice.

She was so quick to write me off as unworthy of her daughter, but she hadn’t thought to question Becca leaving the house unannounced? If only she’d stopped her … Shit. It wasn’t her fault. Deep down, I knew that. Becca was stubborn to boot. One way or another, she would have found a way to slip out unnoticed. Mrs. Torrence didn’t deserve my anger, but with every minute that passed, I felt Becca slip through my fingers.

Why the hell were we still here when we needed to call the cops and get out there looking for her?

“This is bullsh—”

“Melinda, Evan.” Mr. Torrence reappeared, his lips pressed together in a flat line. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good, and my heart sank. “You were right.” His voice was directed at me. “Kane Larson boarded a train this morning. I don’t know how he got under our radar, but he did. He’s here.”

My thoughts couldn’t process everything quick enough. Train? Radar? There were so many things I wanted to ask, but a high-pitched shriek pierced the air as Mrs. Torrence started crying hysterically. Her husband pulled up a chair and tried to comfort his wife. I felt like an outsider invading a private moment. There were clearly things I still didn’t understand about this family, about the secrets they kept.

“Son.” His voice cut through the tension pressing down on us. “I need you to sit tight. Can you do that for me?” I sensed it wasn’t a request. Was he kidding?

“No,” I said. “We need to be out there looking for Becca, right now. We need to call the cops, and we need to go.” The chair scraped across the floor as I pushed back and stood.

“Evan.” There was his calm voice again. “I know you’re scared—I am too—but we can’t call the cops. Things are …” His face flashed with indecision. “Complicated. Let me handle it, please. As her father, I’m asking you to let me handle it.”

Handle it? What the fuck did that mean? He was terrified; I saw it in the depths of his eyes—eyes that reminded me of Becca every time I looked at him—so why was he doing this?

“Geary, you can’t let him hurt her.” Mrs. Torrence pulled her head out of his chest, her eyes already swollen from the force of her tears. “You can’t let her …”

“Shh.” He crushed her to him again, and I jammed my fingers into my hair, scraping my scalp. This was messed up on so many levels. Fire burned through me, a restless energy that refused to let me sit by and do nothing while Becca was out there.

“I can’t just do nothing. Not while she’s—”

“Evan …” His voice trailed off, and I finished. “I love her. I can’t just do nothing.”

A knock on the front door silenced us. Mr. Torrence patted his wife and left her draped over the table, sniffling into her arms, while he went to answer it.

“Tell me you have a location?” I heard him ask whoever was at the door.

“Water plant …” The voice faded into a low rumble, but it was enough for me. I ran out into the hallway, straight toward the two men. Their heads snapped up at the sight of me, and Mr. Torrence said, “Evan, this is Mac. He’s here to help.”

But I was done waiting.

Becca was at the water plant, and I would find her. I walked straight past them both, ignoring their pleas, as I jogged to the Impala and climbed inside. It would take fifteen minutes to get there, ten if I stepped on the gas.

But all I could think was, what if I was already too late?