Page 66 of Puck'N Enemy
Stepping outside into the hall, I dial Coach Becker’s number.
The line rings twice before the familiar, slightly tired voice answers. “Logan?”
“Hey, Coach,” I say, trying to sound casual, but my voice cracks. “Uh, is Dylan there? Did he stay with you last night?”
Coach hesitates for a beat. “No. He said he was spending the night with you.”
My heart drops. “What?”
“Dylan came home last night, ate some dinner, and then left the apartment, saying he’d be at your place. Why?”
I swallow hard, staring blankly at the people walking past me in the hallway. “Dylan...he never came.”
There’s silence on the other end before Coach’s voice lowers. “Logan. What’s going on?”
I have no answer. “I think he’s trying to get back at me for canceling our date yesterday,” I lie. “I’m sure he’s okay and in school right now.”
“Are you sure that’s what happened?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry to trouble you, Coach. I’ll try to get in touch with my boyfriend some other way.” With that, I hang up.
Cold panic settles like ice in my veins.
Dylan has disappeared and it’s my fault. I let my guard down and he got snatched away from me. I should’ve stayed with him last night and made sure he was safe from Pete’s traps.
“Whoa. Hey!”
My head snaps up as I collide with someone.
Mitchikov is standing in front of me, shaking a hand over my face. “Hey, are you okay?” he asks, looking concerned. “Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”
I try to say something but my throat is choked with panic and fear.
Mitchikov’s expression shifts. Stepping closer, he pulls me to the side and whispers, “Hey. What happened?”
I draw in a shaky breath. “It’s Dylan. He...he’s missing. He didn’t text me this morning and he won’t answer any of my calls or texts. He was supposed to be at his place last night, but he didn’t stay. He left.”
“Shit.”
“I shouldn’t have let him out of my sight,” I say, the words spilling fast now. “You told me to watch him but I got complacent. It’s all my fault—”
“Hey.” Mitchikov grabs my shoulders firmly. “Breathe. Panicking won’t help him.”
I look at him. “Pete’s got him. I know it.”
His eyes darken at the name. “Listen to me,” he says in a calm tone. “If Pete touched him, I’ll find out. My family’s already watching Pete’s every move. I’ll make some calls right now. But you need to hold it together, got it? Don’t lose your head.”
My chest tightens, making it hard to breathe. Every muscle in my body screams at me to move. To run. To find Dylan.
But Mitchikov steps in my way. “No,” he says firmly, understanding the wild look in my eyes. “Don’t even think about it.”
“Pavel, he’s out there. He could be—”
“I know,” he cuts in sharply. “But charging in blindly will only make it worse. You’ll get yourself killed or used as leverage. And then, Dylan’s really screwed.”
I clench my fists. “I can’t just stand here while he’s—”
“Yes, you can. You have to,” Mitchikov says firmly. “Listen to me. I’ll make some calls and find out Pete’s exact location. But you staying alive and staying calm is what’s going to save him. There’s no point in running around like a maniac only to be shot dead.”
