Page 73 of Brightness

Having us at the clubhouse would be more of a distraction, and the boys don’t need that. They have enough to worry about with protecting everyone else who’s there right now.

Reaching forward, I grab another of Ivy’s sugar cookies and shove it into my mouth. No time like the present to eat my feelings. As I sit pondering what the hell the next three days is going to look like for Ivy and me, I slowly swallow down another four cookies, taking my time, my mind racing all over the place. The rush of sugar hits me hard, so I slide the tray away, because I need to get up and move. I start pacing the living room, my fingers running through my hair as my eyes shift to the rear door.

She’s not back.

It’s been at least fifteen minutes, and she’s outside, doing God only knows what.

This is fucked.

Ivy can’t stay mad at me forever.

I should go find her.

My feet pound against the floor as I make my way to the rear door. I yank it wide open, expecting her to be on the back porch. But, of course, she’s not fucking there. A sinking feeling creeps through my veins as I edge out of the house, looking through the trees of the backyard.

“Ivy?” I call out.

Nothing.

Racing out the door and down the stairs, I turn left, my chest squeezing with anxiety as I rush around to the front of the house.

The pickup is still here.

She hasn’t taken off back to Tampa.

She’s not stupid enough to try to get there on foot, or hitchhike.

So, where the fuck is she?

“Ivy!” I scream louder, racing faster around the back as I head toward the tree line of the bayou.

My adrenaline spikes, my head twisting from side to side with every snapping twig, every singing bird.

My mind starts going places I don’t want it to.

What if my father found us while I was too fucking busy on the phone?

What if he’s aware the one thing holding me back from joining him is Ivy?

What would he do to get her out of my way?

“Fuck’s sake, Ivy, this isn’t a damn game!” I yell, causing a flock of birds to flurry out of the trees above me. I duck and pull out my gun, my anxiety becoming too much to bear. I pant for breath as I turn and spot the bayou in the distance.

I pause.

Take a second to gather my thoughts.

If my father is here, that’s where he would take her.

Each step I take is harder than the last. My breaths are short and shallow as I enter the clearing, and the sight almost knocks me to my knees.

Ivy, floating on top of the water, her eyes closed.

Her arms out like a starfish as she drifts aimlessly.

Her usually tanned face a little paler against the murky water.

I can’t tell if she’s alive or something much, much worse.

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