Page 21 of The Hunt
When I reached her door, my eyes widened. Daphne wasn’t in the car. Her seat was covered in an inch of snow as if she hadn’t been in here for quite some time now. I scanned what I could of the woods.
But there were no tracks. At least none that the snow hadn’t covered.
“Daphne!” Nothing. “Daphne!” Nothing. “Daphne!”
Still, nothing.
She wasn’t here. She wasn’t fucking here.
Once I ran back to her car from my short scan of the woods, I grabbed her phone that was laying in the passenger’s seat. My hands were shaking uncontrollably, and I skimmed through her notifications, hoping that it’d tell me her whereabouts.
“Daphne, where the fuck are you?” I asked, packing beside the car.
But why? Why didn’t she take her phone with her if she was going to look for help? Why didn’t she think to close her door, to shut off her lights, to wave someone down on the highway? Why didn’t she…
I stopped. No… No, she… if…
I ran a hand through my hair, my mind racing with possibilities. What if she hadn’t willingly left? What if someone had picked her up? What if they took her from her car? What if it was her stalker who had waited for the perfect opportunity?
The snow fell heavier around me.
She should’ve stayed. She should’ve let me take care of her. I could’ve protected her, kept her safe from that dickhead. But instead, she had to run. She had left, and now she was gone. Taken, maybe. Or worse…
“Damnit, Daphne,” I muttered. “Why the fuck did you leave me?!”
I stormed back to my car with my fists clenched.
I didn’t care what it took. I didn’t care who I had to go through.
I was going to find her. And whoever had taken her?
They were going to fucking pay.
CHAPTER 14
APOLLO
Daphne didn’t have any friends.
I stormed down Redwood Academy’s hallways, hoping to find someone who might know more about Mark Sesta because I was sure that he had taken her. She wouldn’t have just left her car like that in the middle of a fucking snowstorm.
Yet nobody knew anything about her.
She usually likes to be left alone. She doesn’t really talk to anyone. She’s kind of… quiet, you know? The comments ran through my head, but one replayed over and over from one of the cheerleaders who had started this whole mess on social media. I thought she was a challenge to you. What do you care about what happens to her?
When those words left her mouth, I nearly hit her.
“Excuse me,” I said to a couple girls, lingering by their lockers. “Do you know Daphne?”
“Daphne? Who’s that?”
“Daphne Laurel.”
They both looked at each other and shrugged. I flared my nostrils and continued through the hallways. Daphne wasn’t just stubborn or guarded; she didn’t let anyone in. Not here at school. Probably not at home either. Not anywhere.
My chest tightened. She didn’t have any friends.
I didn’t know why I cared so much. She actively tried to push me away whenever she got the chance, had stolen my clothes, and had driven in a snowstorm. I should’ve been pissed at her, but I was worried.
