Not wanting to throw Ivy under the bus, I try to remain calm. “Just a friend. I’ll just give her a call tomorrow. Sorry to disturb you so late,” I reply, before storming down the steps back to my truck.
I waste no time pulling out my phone and calling Ivy.
No answer.
A growl leaves my throat, as I navigate to my sister's contact.
“Hello?” Sophie answers sleepily.
“Does Ivy live with you?” I blurt, getting to the point.
“What?” she asks around a yawn. “Uhhh, no. She lives in her own apartment. You know that. Are you alright? Why are you calling so late?”
“Actually she doesn’t. At least according to Rose’s live-in nurse who just answered Ivy’s fucking front door.” I hear rustling on the other end and then my sister speaks up again.
“What do you mean? What nurse?”
“She said Ivy told them her boss asked her to move in with him. Coincidentally at the same damn time Rose needed a live-in nurse. Two weeks ago. Or more, I don’t know.” I’m basically speaking in growls now. Why wouldn't Ivy tell me? She has her own damn room at my house.
Except two weeks ago, I wouldn’t give her the time of day.
Fuck.
“Ivy Delilah Bennett, you little turd,” Sophie groans.
“You knew her middle name was Delilah?” I ask, derailing from the conversation.
“Uh, yeah. You didn’t? Lilah told me they’re twins,” Sophie giggles.
My nostrils flare, and I take a steadying breath. “Where could she be staying? Did she say anything tonight?” I ask, going back to the matter at hand.
“No, she didn’t say anything. She mainly talked about the vampire book she’s writing, and asked my opinion on a couple of sex positions in a scene she’s writing. Then she gave me the cliff’s notes of the fantasy series she’s reading, and we made plans to hang out more now that school's out. Maybe she found a place to rent in town and just didn’t tell me? Which I find hard to believe, since she likes to tell me everything down to her waxing schedule.”
“Waxing?” I ask. “What? No. Fuck. Okay. I’m going to call her again. Thanks Soph.”
“No worries. Let me know if you get a hold of her. She said she was going home when she left tonight. She probably found a place, Wes,” she adds in a comforting tone.
“Yeah, maybe. I’ll let you know. Good night.”
“Night.”
I tap my phone against my chin, wracking my brain for anything she’s said to me in the last couple weeks that could give me a hint. How did she move without me knowing? That first day back after Texas she didn’t seem like herself. I remember noticing that.
I call her again. No answer.
The ringing echoes through the cab of my truck again. Voicemail.
Feeling helpless, I decide to drive toward home and continue brainstorming. Maybe she mentioned something to my parents. Maybe even Maverick or Lincoln. Logic tells me she’s safe, but I just can’t help but feel like something isn’t right.
When I pass through the main part of town, I drop my eyes to the dashboard. I’m almost out of gas. I pull into one of the only two gas stations in Canyon Creek, the older one that’s seen better days. It’s a little more run-down, and I tend to avoid it thanks to the sketchier crowd that tends to hang around here, but tonight it looks quiet.
I pull into the first pump, deciding that it feels safe enough. Canyon Creek might be a small town, and mostly safe, but it’s not untouched by the usual small town flaws…drugs, the occasional crime, and the odd creep here and there.
After I pay for the gas, and stick the nozzle in the tank, I slide my hands into my pockets and lean against the truck, waiting for the truck to fill.
It’s a beautiful night. The warm summer breeze bringing the smell of freshly bloomed flowers and pine. I scan my surroundings, and look over the few businesses on this side of town. My eyes glance over to the Canyon Creek Motel, and its flickering neon sign.
God, I used to drink in that parking lot in high school. I made out with Katie Anderson in one of those rooms after prom, until Lincoln interrupted. He barged in and demanded I help him get a belligerent Beau home. God, if I could go back in time and never have talked to that girl, I would.
