Page 28 of Beneath the Stars (Sugarlake 1)

I drive around for the next few hours. I call Becca on the off chance she’s with her, but unsurprisingly she hasn’t heard from her in days.

I’m stopped in a random parking lot, desperation creeping through my bones, when my phone rings.

“Hey, Sam. She home?”

“No, but I remembered something. We had her turn on the ‘find my phone’ feature on her iPhone. I should be able to track her down that way.”

Why the fuck is he just now telling me about this? I could have been to her hours ago. My leg bounces while I hold the phone to my ear. After what feels like a goddamn century, he gives me a location.

Half an hour later, I pull up to a single-story house in Sweetwater. It’s a small, run-down place, chain-link fence around the yard, and a square window on either side of the front door. The grass is overgrown, covering the sidewalk. If it wasn’t for the street lamp that’s flickering outside letting me see cars in the driveway, I would think it was abandoned.

Anxiety tightens my stomach as I walk to the front door. I knock, but no one answers. I move over to the windows, peering inside, but the shades are drawn so I can’t see much. I’m about to take out my phone and call Sam when I hear mumbling from behind the door. I rush back over. A man stands in the doorway, eyes barely open, a cigarette dangling from his mouth.

My jaw tics as I take him in. He’s skinny as fuck, short brown hair that’s tipped with blond, pockmarks scattered on his face. He’s wearing a white undershirt stained with something brown, chains dangling from his neck. Good. Easier to strangle the life out of him if he’s so much as touched my sister.

“Yeah?” he asks, scratching his stomach.

“I’m looking for Lily. Is she here?”

His eyes open a bit more, scanning me. “Who’s askin’?”

“Her brother.”

His posture straightens, a smirk covering his face as he moves to the side, and waves his arm inviting me inside. “She’s around here somewhere. Flyin’ high in the sky.” He takes the cigarette from his mouth, chuckling like it’s a joke.

My fists clench. I will fuck this guy up. I move past him, keeping the lid on my rage and focus on what’s important—finding Lily.

I walk into the house and scan my surroundings. The living room is trashed. A few random people lounge around in mismatched chairs and bean bags. There are lines of white on the coffee table and my heart sinks.

I should have listened.

I move down a hallway, checking rooms as I go. Finally, I get to the last room on the right. Before I even open the door, the smell of burning plastic assaults my nostrils. Memories of a past I try to forget flash through my mind. I close my eyes and breathe deep, fighting the urge to throw up my dinner.

I turn the handle but pause before taking a step, trying to calm my nerves at what I already know I’ll find. I walk into the room and my heart fucking stops.

Lily is laid out on a bare mattress. Burned foil litters the floor around her, a lighter and straw next to her hand. The lighting is low. Just a lamp in the corner of the room casting an eerie glow over this completely fucked-up situation.

“Lil,” I gasp, rushing to her side. She doesn’t stir. I drop, foil crunching under my knees, and grab her shoulders. “Lily, fuck. Wake up.” I shake her, but she doesn’t fucking move.

This isn’t happening.

I slide my arms underneath her, picking her up, her body limp in my arms. The only thing keeping me together is watching her chest move with her breaths. It’s slow, but it’s there. I focus on getting her the fuck out of this shithole and to a hospital.

The guy who opened the door is slumped on the couch when I get to the living room.

“Call an ambulance,” I snap at him.

His cloudy gaze sweeps over Lily in my arms, but he shakes his head. “No can do, my man. If she dies, it ain’t gonna be on my property.”

Black rage surges through me, blinding my vision. If I wasn’t terrified that every second wasted was a second closer to losing Lily, I would tear this motherfucker apart. Instead, I shake it off, rushing out the door.

I’m dialing 911 as soon as I get Lily in my backseat. I’m panicking and have no clue where the fuck to go. The operator calms me down, letting me know I’m less than five minutes from a hospital. Somehow I get us there in one piece.

There’s a group of people in scrubs waiting for us outside the hospital doors. I throw my car in park, jumping out as they move forward to take Lily from the back. I try to pay attention to what they’re saying, but the adrenaline pumping through me makes it hard to focus. Before I know what’s happening, they whisk her away. I drop onto the asphalt, my breaths coming quick, fear crippling my insides.

It’s a few hours later and Lily’s stable. That’s the only thing that has provided me any relief since the moment I found her unconscious on the mattress.

How could I have let this happen?

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