Page 277 of Heart So Hollow

Suddenly, the door flies open and Scott bursts into the room, “Come on, we’re going home,” he nods to the door.

“Scott, good to see you,” Tate greets him with fake enthusiasm, “we were just having a talk about Colson’s plans for the future.”

“Fuck off, Tate,” Scott barks at him before turning to me, “move!”

Just like arresting me in the middle of class, Tate’s threats end up being just for show, too. On the morning of my first court appearance, the clerk can’t find my name on the docket and then, come to find out, the charges had been dropped and nobody bothered to tell me.

A couple months later, I packed up and shipped out 30 miles to school instead of preparing for a trial. But, at this point, the threat of prison doesn’t scare me. There are far worse things on my mind. Like how I should’ve said something to Evie that night.

I should’ve stopped her from going to the park. I should’ve told her about Bowen and not worried about embarrassing her or upsetting her, because what she went through that night was so much worse. Because if I hadn’t worried about anyone’s pride, she might still be here. I should’ve acted when I had the chance. I should’ve done something.

I should’ve fucking listened to my gut.

CHAPTER SEVENTY-SEVEN

Brett

One Year Ago

The grey stone townhouses and luxury apartments on the river give way to sprawling suburban parks decorated with bronze woodland creatures dancing on the hillside. Soon, the manicured subdivisions disappear and the road stretches along vast fields alternating between corn and soybeans framed by tracts of forest. So Ohio...

I feel like I’m outside my body, watching myself do things that seem so alien. I never bounce around from house to house, not knowing where I’ll be sleeping next. I’ve never been a nomad, fleeing out of necessity or boredom. I relish the stationary life; constant, predictable, and full of routine.

Now I’m a refugee.

I never thought I’d wake up one day and realize my home is no longer my own. And maybe it never was. It was always his home, and it’ll stay that way. I’m the latest infatuation, until I’m not. Some things Bowen will never share with anyone—not really.

“At least you still have your money and your skin,” Barrett reminds me, “like it or not, that’s what matters now.”

That’s what matters now…

She’s right, of course. I glance down at my pink racerback tank, the same type that Bowen nearly tore off me while I was fighting him, and the faint bruises along my shoulders and chest. A small price to pay, I suppose, considering the alternative.

Soon, there’s a lull in our conversation and we both become acutely aware of our surroundings. I look over at Barrett, and she does the same, acknowledging the eerie feeling hanging between us. But, regardless, she continues driving west, straight into the sun, keeping an eye on her navigation screen.

“Is this right?” she finally asks.

“It’s the address he sent me,” I look down at my phone and compare it to what’s on her Jeep’s dashboard, “it’s in the city limits.”

“This just feels…”

“Familiar?” I finish her sentence as I stare out the window at the honeysuckle lining the roads I’ve driven countless times before.

Barrett flips her turn signal and swings a slow right as though she’s deciding whether she even wants to. I can feel the anxiety begin to rise the farther we travel down the road, not another car in sight. When we crest the next hill and emerge out of the brush-lined dip in the road, my stomach drops.

Swiveling to the left, I stare past Barrett at Rick and Leona’s chateau-like home at the top of a distant hill and my heart starts beating double-time.

“Where the hell are we going?” I spit in frustration.

“That’s what I’m saying!” Barrett hisses back. “Why did he send us here?”

I nod to a gravel pull-off next to an access road by the woods, “Pull over.”

Barrett whips over and nearly skids to a halt as I glance at the navigation screen—ETA two minutes. Then I drag my finger down the glass, following the blue line toward our destination. It ends at a non-descript green square off the road with no other buildings or houses around it. I let out a frustrated huff, not knowing what to do.

“Is there even a house there?” Barrett murmurs, while keeping an eye on the road in both directions. “Are you sure that was the only app Bowen put on your phone?”

“What? Yeah,” I stammer, “I mean, I think so…”

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