Page 92 of When I'm Gone

When I find it exactly where my brother said the damn thing would be, I know without a shadow of a doubt that I’ve been right all along. Brady has texted several times, allsomething along the lines of call me. Despite my intuition, I do call him because I need the confirmation.

“Listen, don’t freak out,” he says as soon as the line connects.

There’s no stopping the growl building in my throat. “Brady.”

He makes a frustrated noise back. “I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation for this. Easton wouldn’t just leave without saying something.”

I drop my head in between my shoulder blades and pray to something I don’t believe in.Please, please let him be okay. Even if he’s done with me, just let him be okay.

“I’ll be on the next flight home. We’ll figure it out.”

Brady makes a valiant effort at protesting, but I can hear the fear in his voice, and that’s enough to seal my choice. When I tell Emerson, his face pales. “This can’t be like before. I refuse to believe that.”

“I don’t know, Em. But I need to go see for myself. Can you break it to everyone else?”

He nods, understanding clearly in his eyes. I can’t tell them. Their hearts were broken the first time this happened, and that was before I went and fell in love with him. It’s going to be so much worse if we’re in this situation again.

No. Stop. I’m being paranoid. We will find him. He went to blow off steam and let his phone die. Something easily explained. This is not like before. It can’t be. I don’t know if I’ll survive losing him a second time.

CHAPTER 28

EASTON

Waking up is a process. It hurts, and honestly, I’d rather not. It takes several tries for my eyes to stay open; the fog threatens to pull me back under if I can’t force them too wide. Something hurts, like really hurts. Taking inventory on what is wrong with my body isn’t new to me, but I’m certainly a bit out of practice. But the pain is how I know that I need to wake up, need to figure out what happened because it can always get worse.

Cold. So very cold. My vision is hazy, but I think I’m on the floor of a bathroom. Dumped here, so I don’t make as much of a mess, I’d guess. I groan as my stomach tries to revolt. My hand covers my mouth as I gag, but I haven’t eaten in so long that there’s nothing left in it.

Come on, get it together,I chastise myself. This isn’t safe, I can feel it all the way down to my bones. The alarm bells going off in my head are deafening, drowning out one of the more reliable ways for me to sus out what’s going on.

After a few deep breaths, I’m able to grit my teeth and prop myself up into a semi-sitting position. My skin is frozen, that much I know. Not very helpful.Focus, every detailmatters.It’s bright enough to sear my eyeballs, which is not ideal for the pounding headache rattling my skull.

Hey, that’s new. It’s my head that’s causing me the most issues it seems. Much slower than I’d like, but I am getting there. Once my eyes start adjusting, colors come back to me first. A large brown blob that starts looking more and more rectangular.Cabinets,my sluggish brain supplies after a few curious blinks.

“No, no, no,” I mutter, hands frantically searching for purchase. “Get up.” It hits me all at once.

Aaron.

The gun.

He must have used it to knock me out so I’d be easier to transport. Transport where, though? Wherever it is, I don’t recognize it. Once I find something to grab onto, I very slowly pull myself to my feet. My joints groan and creak in protest, assuring me I was on the cold hard tile for quite a while.

What kind of person dumps someone with a head injury out on the ground and just leaves them there?

Well, the same kind that causes said head injury, to be fair.

My reflection does not reveal anything positive. He damn sure didn’t pull his punches with this one. An ugly red gash is splitting apart at my temple, and the blood was never cleaned up so it’s staining all down the side of my face and neck. If my shirt wasn’t black, I’m sure it’d look pretty bad too.

Once I manage to get it as clean as I’ll be able to with nothing but warm water and a hand towel, I decide that it’s time to start investigating. Much as I don’t want to see him, I need to find Aaron. Try and feel out if he’s as serious about his threats as what I fear.

The floorboards creak under my feet as I shuffle down the narrow hall, hand on the wall so I stay upright withterror squeezing my ribs more and more with each step. I don’t know what I was expecting exactly, but finding him sitting at the kitchen table reading a newspaper like he’s done every day he didn’t have to rush off to work is certainly not it. Like this is just a normal weekend, more specifically, one of the ones where he lost his temper the night before and graced me with the kindness of a couple extra hours of sleep before demanding my housewifely duties.

He doesn’t look up as he speaks, but I can feel his eyes on me nonetheless. “Well, good morning, doll. Wasn’t sure when you’d be joining me.”

What the fuck does he want me to say to that? Greet him like he didn’t just bash me over the head and kidnap me?Deep breath, hold it, then slowly let it out. Stay alive,I remind myself. That’s the most important thing.

Pride won’t let me fall right back into the path he carved for me in this life, but I somehow manage to force the bite from my tone and sound passably pleasant. “There wasn’t any alcohol in the bathroom. Do you have any I can use for my head? I don’t want it to get infected.” I add after a moment’s hesitation, “Please.”

My captor finally meets my gaze and nods approvingly. “Can’t have you ruining that pretty face now, can we? Try the corner cabinet.”

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