Page 65 of Drive To Survive

Everly shook her head and unsteadily got to her feet. “Thank you,” she muttered, her shoulders bowed as she walked into the hallway. I followed. As soon as I closed the door behind me, Everly grabbed my arm.

“We have to find him ourselves, Nico,” she blurted. “Paul might be an ex-cop now, but I don’t trust the police not to try to protect one of their own.”

I widened my eyes. “Everly, come on. They wouldn’t do that.”

“Can you be one hundred percent sure of that?” she asked.

I rubbed my fingertips over my lips. “No.”

“Then let’s go.”

We left Everly’s truck at the school. My car was faster and more reliable. We decided to follow at least one piece of police advice and swing by her house just in case, as the cops suggested, Rhett had wandered off. It’d be completely out of character, according to what both Everly and I knew of him, but we had to rule it out first. I kept glancing sideways to check on her. That head injury looked nasty, almost as if she hit her head on something as she fell. After her place, the next stop should be the emergency room. If she collapsed, she’d be no use to Rhett. Once we made sure he wasn’t at home, I’d raise it with her again, urge her to be sensible.

I didn’t fancy my chances.

Everly jumped out of the car before I’d brought it to a complete stop, and sped up the path to her house. I followed as best I could, but the painkillers I’d swallowed on the way to the school weren’t having the effect I’d hoped for. Goddamn stupid fucking ankles.

“He’s not here,” she exclaimed by the time I’d reached the front door. “God, oh God. If something happens to him, I can’t… I can’t…”

She swayed on her feet. I caught her just in time. “Everly, you have to go to the hospital.”

“No,” she said weakly. “Not until I’ve found Rhett.”

“Jesus Christ,” I gritted out. “You’re no use to him if you collapse. You could have a head injury, for fuck’s sake.”

“Stop, Nico,” she said, eyes bleak. “Help me find him. Please.”

I sighed, defeated. “At least let me dress the wound. Please. It’ll take two minutes.”

She hesitated, then nodded. I led her into the living room, spying blood droplets on the corner of the coffee table. That must have been where she hit her head. Hell, no wonder she had a large gash. At least it wasn’t bleeding. A positive sign her blood had clotted, although without stitches, the slightest jolt could tear the wound back open again.

Using Everly’s home first-aid kit, I cleaned her up as best I could and taped a square of gauze to her temple. I still wasn’t happy, but equally, I understood—fuck, how I understood—her drive to find Rhett, to put him way above her own needs.

“Where was Paul staying?” I asked once I got her back in the car.

She turned to me with an anguished expression. “I never asked.” She rubbed her face. “Why didn’t I ask? Do you think that’s where he’s taken Rhett?”

I wrapped my fingers around hers and squeezed. “I don’t know, love, but he’ll be aware that the first thing we’ll do is call the police. Taking a child without permission, even if you are the biological father, is a serious offense. He won’t want to risk moving him in daylight. I’m banking on the fact that he’s taken Rhett back to where he’s been staying while he waits for nightfall.”

My guess, if forced to make one, was that this had been a spur-of-the-moment decision by Paul. He’d argued with Everly, then hit her, and she’d fallen and cracked her head on the side of the coffee table. Probably passed out immediately. He panicked, thinking he’d killed her or at least severely injured her, and so he’d gone over to the school and taken Rhett. I could only pray that he wouldn’t put the boy in harm’s way. That, somehow, his parental instinct kicked in.

“Where do we even begin?” Everly wrung her hands. “This is LA. There are a million hotels.”

“You said Paul had lost his job and that Nick Grayson told you he’d returned because he had nowhere else to go, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then we start with the cheapest motels in Wilmington. Once we’ve exhausted that batch, we look farther out. Okay?”

She bit down on her lip. “Yes.”

“While we’re driving, you keep your eyes peeled in case you see them on the street.”

“Got it,” she said.

I brought her hand to my mouth and kissed her knuckles. “Try not to worry.”

“That’s like asking me to try surviving without oxygen.”

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