Page 35 of Wait For It

“I told him I sent you, Ari,” Morgan sighed, confirming my fears. “Said I wasn’t feeling well and asked you to fill in for me. What was I supposed to do? Tell him you’d snuck out and taken my car? You know what they would have done to you—”

But what did they do to you?

She lifted her shoulder in a half shrug, eyes glistening with tears. “Nothing I can’t live through. Believe me, it’s better this way.”

Morgan wasn’t acting as an emissary to Tristan but as a martyr… for me. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, my mother’s ring glimmering from her left hand. Everything she possessed had once belonged to someone else—the ring… the clothes… the children.

Had she ever wanted more than a hand-me-down life?

I shook my head at the unfairness of it all. The decision to run away and the consequences of being caught should have rested firmly on my shoulders.

My jaw tightened as a piece of my nightmare came back to me. Morgan’s BMW had gone off the road and down a steep embankment. The nurses had confirmed that much. With the tree cover and lack of light, I should have remained lost for days.

She hadn’t known my plans or even where I was headed, but someone else had.

How did they find me?

“I wondered the exact same thing and did a little digging. It took some time, but I finally found what I was looking for. Tristan has trackers… on every single vehicle.” She shifted from one foot to the other before lowering herself onto the chair. “I haven’t told anyone, but I think—I think maybe that’s how they found Ashlynn.”

I closed my eyes for a long moment, feeling the blood as it drained from my face, no doubt headed down to stir up my stomach some more.

Ashlynn.

It had been almost two years, but my heart ached just as fiercely as it had the afternoon I learned my sister’s fate. Loss was the one wound impervious to time.

Unfortunately, Morgan wasn’t finished.

“This is why you can’t come back.” She hesitated, fished a small teddy bear from her bag, and then gently placed it in my hands. “When we moved away, my granny gave me this stuffed animal. She said it was a way for me to always feel close to her. I kinda thought she was crazy but squeeze it.”

I did, surprised to feel a solid mass in the middle of its stomach.What is it?I mouthed.

“Well, it turns out Granny was a little skeptical about the nice preacher man inviting us to live in his gated community. So, she hid a cell phone and some cash inside the bear and sewed it up.”

Morgan gnawed on her bottom lip. “I know it’s not much, but it’ll get you out of the city once you’re healed. I’d send you to Granny’s place, but she—she passed not long after we left.”

I didn’t understand. She’d had the means to disappear but was willing to give it away without a second thought? It didn’t make a lick of sense. The back of my eyes stung with unshed tears, but I wouldn’t show weakness now, not in light of what she was offering.

Why?

Her forehead creased. “What do you mean, why? Don’t you see? Those trackers are proof Tristan knows where everybody is at all times. Ashlynn didn’t die out here—” Morgan lowered her voice. “I think he killed her, Ari. And if you go back, he’ll kill you too. No one walks away from him.”

There was no time to process the full implication of her words because I was too busy freaking out at the sudden and unexpectedly loud knock. Morgan flinched, tearing her eyes away from mine and back toward the door.

The trackers.

“No,” she whispered as if reading my thoughts. “I took the bus. Tristan doesn’t know—he couldn’t.”

A moment passed, and then another, but Morgan stayed rooted to her chair in fright. I would have loved nothing more than to mentally check out for a while, but there was no time. She’d sacrificed herself for me once already. Now, it was my turn to be brave. I scribbled in the notebook before pressing it and the bear into her hands.

When she remained seated, I gave her a gentle nudge with my foot and gestured toward the bathroom.

Go.

Finally, she got up. I waited until the bathroom door closed behind her before moving toward the sounds of incessant rapping. My stomach gave another stern warning, but I ignored it and gently lifted the handle.

As his tall form and hopeful grin came into view, my hand fell uselessly back to the chair. I gaped at him; suddenly grateful I was sitting as the hallway appeared to be tilting. Nothing would have been more horrifying than stumbling into a man on crutches.

The edges of my vision swam in black, and I struggled to keep his face in focus as everything began spiraling out of control.

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