Page 60 of Beneath the Stands (Sugarlake 2)

Becca’s missing, and the air feels different. Like it’s been shocked into silence from the loss of her soul.

I set down my phone only to pick it up again as I stand. My movement is stilted. It’s hard trying to maneuver around the lead weight that’s dropped in my stomach.

Because I already feel it in my gut.

She’s gone.

The burn in my chest rolls through my system, bursting through my limbs. I throw my phone, watching it ricochet off the marble countertop, landing on the floor. My fingers rip through my disheveled strands, and I puff out a breath, trying to calm my racing heart.

“This is ridiculous,” I mumble, bending to pick up the broken screen.

I shouldn’t have told her I loved her, but I didn’t realize she wouldn’t love me back.

The thought barrels into my stomach and up my throat, expanding until I have to swallow against the pain.

The words she didn’t say slammed into my chest like a fist, my heart fracturing from her silence. I let the quiet linger because I didn’t want to push. Left the bed and gave her space so I wouldn’t break apart at her feet. So I wouldn’t beg her to just say the goddamn words and keep me glued together.

But to wake up and find her gone?

Fuck. That.

She doesn’t get to run from this. From me.

I hop off the barstool, my heart pumping determination through my veins, the adrenaline more potent than a hundred cups of coffee. Stumbling to my room, I rip open my dresser, throwing on the first thing I can find.

Then I’m out the door, on a mission.

My heart thunks against my sternum on the way to her apartment, my fingers tapping out a jittery rhythm on the wheel.

Why would she leave?

Slamming my car into park, I hop out, tripping over my shoes to get to her front door. Desperate in my need to see her. For her to soothe away this ache.

No one answers when I knock, and I bounce on the balls of my feet. Every second adds another brick to the layer of my anxiety.

As the door swings open, something loosens in my chest, a smile teasing the corner of my mouth. She’s here. Only, the relief doesn’t last, because it isn’t Becca’s beautiful face peeking at me. It’s Sabrina.

Her eyes narrow and I realize how awkward it is for me to be here. No one knows about us, after all.

“Hey.” My voice comes out gruff. I rock back on my heels, attempting to soften my tone. “Sabrina, right?”

Her brows draw together. “Yeah. Coach Carson, right? What are you doing here?”

I clear my throat. “I’m here to talk to Rebecca. Is she home?”

Her brows pull in further with the downturn of her lips. “Becca? No. I haven’t seen her since yesterday at graduation, and I barely saw her then.”

My heart stutters, the sickness of my thoughts infecting every beat. “Okay. Well, if you see her, let her know I stopped by, would you?”

Sabrina’s hand slides against the doorframe as she cocks her head. “Why do you need to see her anyway?”

Irritation flares in my chest. “That’s not really your business.”

She purses her lips. “I think it is. She’s my friend, and I’m not sure I should tell her you were here, unless I know your intentions.”

I chuckle, my teeth gritting at this girl’s audacity. “My intention is to find Becca and keep her away from people like you. Ones who parade around like her friend while holding a knife to her back. One her father provides.”

Her eyes grow wide, her face draining of color.

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