Page 75 of The Ruthless Note

Even in my panic, I freeze completely. “Sol.”

My voice is thick and commanding.

Sol skitters to a stop.

I stare right into his eyes. “If you find her, you callme, okay?”

He hesitates. Then he juts his chin and takes off.

I fumble with my phone and call Cadence again, but of course she doesn't answer. Where the hell is she?

I charge into the music room. She's not there.

Cafeteria, not there.

Computer room, empty.

I run to the table outside the cafeteria where she and that weird girl with the leather jacket like to hang out. But the table only boasts a few falling leaves.

No Brahms.

The more time passes, the more uneasy I feel. Whatever was going on with Vi did not sound good. What if she got hurt? What if she’s bleeding on the street?

What the hell has my life become?

I brush the thought away and keep looking.

My legs eat up the distance between the second floor and the library. I burst in and the librarian immediately glances up with a crinkled frown. When she sees it’s me, she returns to what she was doing and doesn’t say a word.

I'm breathing hard as I tear a path down the row of bookshelves. The carpeted floor swallows every step. I quicken my pace, rushing past tables full of students who all pop their heads up when they see me racing by.

I glance left and right, moving down every row until I finally see her.

Cadence is sitting by the window, one leg propped under the other. Her head is tucked towards a text and she’s scribbling something in her notebook.

Her hair is falling down her shoulder like a chocolate waterfall. Her beautiful face is tilted down and the sun highlights her exquisite cheekbones before wrapping around the gentle arch of her neck.

The nerves in my chest twist painfully. Damn. I can’t wait to slip inside Cadence once and for all so I can get rid of that stupid reaction.

For a second, I forget what I came running here for.

Until Cadence lifts her head and her brown eyes slash through me.

Vi. Emergency.

It takes three giant steps to stop in front of her.

“We have to go. Now.” I grab her hand.

She yanks it back. “What?” Her voice is quiet, but she still manages to pack it with enough hate to level a building. “I'm not going anywhere with—”

“Your sister is in trouble.”

She pounces to her feet with a quickness that surprises me. Her books, cell phone and backpack spill to the ground. “Dutch, if you messed with my sister, I swear I’m going to take you down with everything in me.”

“Cadey—”

“Don’t call me that,” she snaps.

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