Page 93 of The Brave and the Reckless

I beelined for Adriana, who was dancing with a plush anaconda draped around her neck. “I need to get out of here.”

To her credit, Adriana took one look over my shoulder, presumably at my brother or his best friend or both of them, and dropped the anaconda to the floor. “Where we going?”

“Somewhere fun.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

THE SUNSET SHOWDOWN

Immerse yourself in the story of Bravetown and experience the dangers and thrills of the Old West in this spectacular show. When Ace Ryder and his bandits cause mayhem in town, it’s upon Sheriff Kit Holliday to save the day. From horseback stunts to pyrotechnics, the showdown will leave you breathless.

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NOAH

I had barely slept in three nights.

Esra had left the party with Adriana on Friday and not come home.

After weeks of stealing every moment we could, she hadn’t spared me a second to say goodbye, to explain, to let me in. She shut me out and I didn’t know why. Maybe I had read too much into it, but the way she’d let me touch her in the bathroom had felt like it meant something. She’d trusted me through the costume, to my core, knowing I wouldn’t hurt her, wouldn’t let anything happen to her.But when somethinghadhappened, I wasn’t the person she’d turned to.

I’d waited in the living room that first night and fallen asleep on the sofa, not caring who might see and draw their conclusions. I couldn’t care less about some betting pool when Esra was god-knows-where, emotionally riled up, wearing a tiny dress held together by a safety pin. Maybe I wasn’t who she turned to for comfort, but I’d be ready to give it nonetheless.

Her brother had said something to upset her at his party. I’d only caught snippets of their conversation, but he’d told her about his plans to work on the ranch with me. I’d already told her as much, so that could hardly be why she bolted. Sanny had downed a few too many shots to piece the conversation back together himself.

No matter how often I called, Esra wasn’t picking up her phone. Adriana had texted Sinan both Saturday and Sunday to let him know they were fine, just so he wouldn’t call the cops.

If she’d told him where they were, I would have driven out there myself.

Esra was hurt or angry or sad, and I didn’t know why, and I couldn’t fix it.

My own incompetence stifled every other thought that weekend. All I could focus on was that she was gone, and I couldn’t bring her back or make her feel better from afar. She hadn’t just run away from her brother, or from the park; she’d run away from me, and if I hadn’t been worried sleepless, I would have been hurt.

Monday morning, I dragged myself into the kitchen, muscles aching from tossing and turning the third nightin a row. I swiped my finger across my phone screen to refresh my messages– as if that would magically produce a new one. My gaze snapped up at the sound of cutlery. Not Austin. Not Lucas. Not any of the other people I’d lived with for years. A small, hooded creature crouched at the table, and even though I’d known her less than three months, I distinctively knew the ebony shade of the hair cascading from under the hood, and the soft lips closing around a spoonful of cereal. Esra just sat at the kitchen table with a bowl of sugary, crunchy breakfast as if I hadn’t been calling her non-stop. She didn’t even look up. Just kept shoveling spoon after spoon of chocolate crap into her mouth and staring into space.

She had a hoodie jacket around her shoulders, but she was still in the same sparkly white dress she’d worn Friday night. Shit. That had to be a bad sign, right?

Adriana’s texts may have said she was fine, but she didn’t look fine. She looked like death with pale cheeks and dark circles under her eyes.

“Esra?” She didn’t respond, so I stepped closer. “Where have you been?”

“None of your business,” she mumbled, still staring ahead and seeing nothing at all.

I’d seen that look before. Many times. In my father’s eyes when he’d remember our address long enough to come home and change. She wasn’t my dad. She was the girl who put researching horse noises on her to-do list and actually checked it off. She’d gone through something. Must have. And if she told me what was wrong, I’d figure out how to fix it.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” I asked.

“I’m not hurt.” She grimaced as if I’d just poured salt over her cereal. “Why the fuck is that the first conclusion you jump to?”

“Shit, Esra, I don’t know.” A bitter laugh hiccupped up my throat. “You were gone all weekend. You missed four shows. I had to cover for you with Renee.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” she responded without a hint of emotion.

“I did that because I didn’t want you to get into trouble.”

“That sounds like a you-problem, Young.”

“A me-problem? Are you listening to yourself right now?” I wasn’t sure what was happening with her, but I knew that I’d donethisbefore. The moment you realized that you were about to be left behind. It had happened once with my mother, and dozens of times with my father. I’d known it was coming with Esra, too. I’d just thought we’d get the rest of summer and then she’d breeze off and leave me with enough memories to make the end sting less. Only a tiny voice in the back of my mind had allowed itself to hope that maybe, just maybe, I’d get a bit more time than that. “What the hell is wrong with you?” The words came out more vicious than I’d intended, but she was leaving, and I was not okay.

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