Page 92 of Fallen Stars

Levi hunted this trafficking ring and fell victim in the process. Now, he may be sold to some sick, rich fucker halfway across the world. If that happens, I might lose him forever.

And that’s not an option. I can’t lose him. Not like this. Not ever.

Every inch of my body turns to ice as fear and panic swirl low in my belly and twist their way up my spine.

“When?” I demand. “How long do we have?”

Tymber turns his attention back to the screen and points again. “This comment saysnot long after the gust passes.” He twists and points to a different screen, one with Levi’s personal notes on the case. “When this popped up in the thread, Levi deciphered the comment as an auction happening at the beginning of September. He decodedgustas August.”

Not a single day has passed since Levi’s abduction that I didn’t know the date or how many days he’s been missing. Yet, I still take out my phone, wake it up with a tap, and stare at the date on the screen.

August 28.

August ends in three days.

Three. Fucking. Days.

We are out of time.

We have to find him.

Right the fuck now.

“Fuck,” I mutter. The backs of my eyes burn and my nose stings as this new reality takes center stage.

An arm wraps around my shoulders a moment before the air is hugged from my lungs. Mrs. West shushes and rocks me gently.

“We’ll get him back,” she says, her proclamation laced with conviction.

I close my eyes and count to ten. Silently absorb some of her confidence and let it bolster my own.

In the days since Levi’s parents walked through the doors of TWSIS, I’ve witnessed a big change in their acceptance of my relationship with Levi.

Mrs. West had treated me with kindness over the years, but she’d still sided with her husband when it came to Levi’s future. They’d wanted him with a prominent woman and to produce future West heirs. Like some of the other Stone Bay founding families, they never asked Levi what he wanted for his life.

Before he spoke his first words, most of Levi’s life had been mapped out for him. Appearance, profession, marriage. When Mr. and Mrs. West envisioned Levi’s future, they didn’t include the idea of him choosing his own career path or falling in love with a same-sex commoner.

Fifty-four days ago, they disliked that their eldest son was in love with me—an ordinary man.

Since his disappearance, they have put aside their archaic ideals and embraced me with open arms. For the first time in years, they see me as someone their son loves rather than someone robbing him of his future.

“I’ll call Emerson with the news,” Mr. West says.

Tymber grabs his phone. “And I’ll call my buddy at missing persons.”

The room erupts in chaos as Mrs. West releases me and takes out her phone. She taps the screen a few times and brings the phone to her ear. In seconds, she prattles instructions to whoever she talks with.

Phoebe and Delilah are near the map with the pins and string, pointing and chatting quietly. I join them and stare at the map with a new perspective. Tough as it is, I try to insert myself into the shoes of these bastards and think like a heinous criminal.

“If I was a sadistic motherfucker selling hundreds of human beings, where would I be?”

Delilah, Phoebe, and I get lost in our thoughts as we gaze at the map of Washington and Oregon.

“In my case”—Delilah starts then pauses to take a deep breath—“they took me to a place that people rarely visited. Somewhere away from homes, businesses, and general traffic.”

Delilah makes a good point.

“So we should look in more rural areas?”

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