Page 110 of Love Me Fearless

“Have you heard from Ava?” I ask before she can even get in a greeting.

“Not since yesterday. What’s up?”

“She’s supposed to be home, but she’s not.”

“Lemme text Kirilee,” she says.

I wait for what feels like minutes, fighting what my gut is telling me. Even if Ava drove somewhere, she would be back by now. If there was some sort of emergency, she would have told me. She wouldn’t intentionally make me worry.

“Kirilee hasn’t heard from her either.”

“Shit.”

“Did you call Zach?”

“Everett did. He’s checking—” My phone clicks with an incoming call “—that’s him. I gotta go.” I hang up and answer Everett. “Is she there?”

“No. I’m heading your way. Zach’s making some calls.”

I toss the phone on the seat and reverse down Ava’s driveway. Like hell am I just going to sit here on my ass. I call Ava’s phone again, but this time it goes straight to voicemail.

“Fuck!” I accelerate out of her neighborhood, tires squealing.

I swerve onto Lakeshore, toward town. But what if she went the other direction? I call the landline at the farm, even though there’s no way Ava could have driven there without me passing her.

Mom answers.

“It’s me,” I say, checking every turnoff as I pass for her car. “Is Ava there?”

“No. I thought you were meeting at her house.”

“We are, but she’s not here.”

“You sound worried.”

“I’m sure she’ll turn up,” I say, forcing my tone to soften. The last thing she needs is to get scared too.

“Well, if I see her, I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks.” I accelerate through the first traffic light, then slam on my brakes.

To my right sits Ava’s car, abandoned in the middle of an empty parking strip facing a self-serve storage facility. My heart gallops in my chest as I crank the wheel and enter the lot. I throw the gearshift in PARK and race from the cab.

“Ava!” I call out as I scan the windows on the way to the driver’s side door, but except for her purse on the passenger seat, her car is empty. I yank on the door, expecting it to be locked, but it swings open.

This is all wrong. If Ava had car trouble, she would have called me.

And if somehow her phone didn’t work, she would not have left her purse in her unlocked car while she walked to get help.

Especially after what happened yesterday.

I squint against the bright evening sun as panic swims inside me.

There’s only one reason why she’s not here. Cold prickles chew at my insides. I whip out my phone, my fingers shaking as I dial Everett.

“Where are y?—”

“I found her car but she’s not—” my throat clamps shut but I force the rest “—she’s been taken.”

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