Now he’sreallygot my attention.
“What’s going on?”
He groans. “It’s Sawyer.”
My muscles tense, screaming in pain as my body goes rigid and my brain switches to high alert.
Sawyer. Sawyer. Sawyer.
“Is she okay?” The words escape me on their own, a loud buzzing in my ears making it difficult to think.
“She’s okay,” he says. “For now, at least.”
I dig the heel of my hand into my eye socket, trying to stave off the darkness. Fuck.
“But Cam is worried about her. They talked, and if she was just drunk or would tell us what she took—”
I drop the phone, sending it clattering against the floor. Cursing, I scramble off the bed and sink to my hands and knees, ignoring the pain searing through my core.
“Where are you?” I demand when I finally find the phone and bring it up to my ear with a shaking hand.
“I can send you a pin. It’s a huge house party in Akron.”
Annoyance floods me. “I don’t know where that fucking is. I’m not from around here.”
“A few towns over. Thirty minutes from campus.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I crane my neck from side to side, but I’m too panicked to register any of the satisfaction that usually comes with the release. “Where’s Sawyer right now?” I demand. “Do you have eyes on her?”
Bryant makes a noncommittal noise. “Hold on.”
“Hey, Ty,” a feminine voice says. “It’s Cam. I’m so sorry to call you like this. I feel bad, like I’m betraying her by calling—”
“You’re not.” It’s not my promise to make, but I’m desperate to keep her talking.
“I tried calling Atty first. He didn’t answer. I just think someone who knows her better needs to see this.”
I clench my free hand into a fist, gritting my teeth. “See what?”
My phone vibrates against my jaw as the words come out of my mouth.
“I sent a picture.”
In slow motion, I navigate to my messages and tap on the picture from Cam to enlarge it.
Holding my breath, I take it all in. Then I slam my eyes shut, wishing like hell I could scrub the image from my mind. God dammit. The sight only strengthens the pull the darkness has on me.
Baby.No.
Sawyer’s drunk or high. Maybe both. Her clothes are askew, her hair and makeup wrecked, head lolled to the side, and her eyelids droopy.
But it’s the people around her that have my lungs seizing in my chest.
Fucking Keira.
Fucking fuckhead JD.
