CHAPTER 17
Liam
I wasin the barn when everything fell apart.
Honey stood in the crossties, steady and patient, while I worked the curry comb through her coat. She’d learned the rhythm. Leaned into the strokes, eyes slipping half-closed, trusting the way she hadn’t trusted anyone months ago.
That should’ve felt good.
It was my day off. Quiet afternoon. The kind that used to make my skin itch—too much space for old memories to wander in. Now it just meant getting ahead, finishing chores before Riley and Mia came home. Before dinner. Homework. The ordinary things I’d stopped taking for granted.
I was halfway down Honey’s flank when my phone buzzed in my back pocket.
I didn’t reach for it right away.
The feeling hit first. Low and sharp. Like a missed step on a staircase that wasn’t there. My hand stilled on the brush. Honey shifted, sensing it.
Riley’s name lit up the screen.
Something in my chest tightened, fast and hard, like my body was already bracing. Like it knew before I did that whatever wason the other end wasn’t routine. Wasn’t small. Wasn’t something I could fix by finishing what I was doing and dealing with it after.
I answered.
“Riley?”
“Todd took Mia.”
Her voice was tight, words coming too fast, the kind of control that meant everything underneath was about to shatter.
“He showed up at school. Told her I was hurt. She went with him.”
The curry comb slipped from my fingers. Hit the barn floor. I didn’t hear it. Didn’t feel it.
“Where are you?”
“Following him. Route 7. Toward the logging roads. He’s got maybe ten minutes on me.”
“I’m coming.”
The words were already out. My body was already moving. I was running for the truck, leaving Honey in the crossties, her soft huff of breath chasing me out of the barn.
“Riley. Don’t do anything until I get there. Wait for backup.”
“I can’t.”
Her voice broke on it, raw and unfiltered.
“I can’t lose her. I can’t?—”
The line went dead.
The line went dead.
I was in the truck before my brain caught up. Keys. Ignition. The engine roared like it was angry too. Gravel sprayed as I tore down the driveway.
I didn’t call Cal. Didn’t call 911.
There wasn’t time.
