Phone to my ear, I hear it start ringing.
Once. Twice. Three times.
Then it rolls over to voice mail.
Shit.My stomach drops to my damn toes.
I hang up and work to remember my dad’s number. This one comes easier. Phone to my ear again, I shut my eyes tight and pray he answers.
“Dammit,” I mutter when I get his voice mail too.
I hang up and try both of their numbers again. And when I still have no success, dread forms a deep pit in my stomach.
“They didn’t pick up?” the woman asks.
I shake my head.
“Well, Todd and I are going to run into the grocery store really quick, but you can wait here and keep trying with my phone while we’re inside, okay?”
I nod. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
They get out of the car, and I sit there trying to understand what in the hell is happening right now. A normal, sane person would have told this couple that she has been kidnapped and to take her to the nearest police station. But that’s not what I did at all.
Because you believe Kane. And Kylie. And Kane’s brothers.
I try to call my mom and dadagain, but neither of them answers.
I’m tempted to demon dial or text 9-1-1 over and over until they see it, but something holds me back from going that far. I don’t know what I’m afraid it will create. Panic? Fear? A swarm of police showing up right here in this parking lot?Putting Kane and Kylie and Rook and Cal in danger?
The old Blair would’ve done that in a heartbeat.
But current Blair? The one who’s left after being kidnapped? The one who knows what it feels like to kiss Kane and to sleep in his bed? The one who survived using three-in-one body wash and helped Kylie make soup and didn’t perish from not being able to do her twenty-step nightly skin care routine? She’s changed.
I stare out toward the one streetlight, and the wind cuts through the damp fabric of Kane’s borrowed shirt. I wrap my arms around myself and step away from the car, already dialing my mother’s number again.
When she doesn’t answer, I press my palm to my forehead, trying to think.
There’s only one other person who would know the reality of everything. Only one other person who probably knows why I went missing in the first place.Holland.
My mind fills with memories of Kylie warning me about him. But the part that’s desperate to see my family overrules it all.Surely my parents have been in contact with him. Surely he’s probably a part of the search party too.
I shut my eyes and lean my head back and try like hell to remember his phone number.
It takes me three whole attempts and having to talk to two random strangers who are most definitely not Holland Thorne before I can figure out his actual number.
He answers on the first ring. “Hello?”
“Holland, it’s Blair. Blair Windsor,” I say, and I hate how small my voice sounds.
“Blair?” he questions, but his tone isn’t surprised. It’s just steady in a way that makes me furrow my brow.
“Yeah. I…it’s me,” I say, and I hesitate over what I should even tell him about my situation. I don’t know if he knows who kidnapped me from my driveway or killed the two men whocame to pick me up.And you don’t want him to know if he doesn’t already.
“Are you okay?”
It’s a real mindfuck when you find yourself covering for your kidnapper, but that is my situation.
Because no matter what you’re trying to tell yourself, you’re in love with Kane.
