Paul lived in one of the small neighborhoods on the Darling Hill/Dartmouth border, but it was pretty much one straight road back home.
“You think you can drive?” Zane asked, joining me.
“Can you? You look like shit,” I said.
“You’re one to talk, asshole. Crazy night, huh?”
I looked around at the carnage. It wasn’t my finest moment, waking up with little to no memory of the night before, surrounded by half-dressed dudes and a bunch of empty bottles, beer cans, and ashtrays. But I’d needed to get out of my head. Before I did something really fucking stupid like drive over to Harleigh’s trailer and bury myself deep inside her.
“Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Kye skulked over to us. “My insides feel wrong. What the fuck was in that shit?”
“You guys leaving already?” Paul said. “Stay. I can get my mom to cook some—”
“Nah, man. I need a shower and my own bed.”
“Cool, bro. Cool. See you next time.”
When I would never touch his shit again. My brain felt like it had blended in a food processor.
The ride back to The Row was somber. Kye dozed on the back seat while Zane messed with my radio.
“Last night was some bad shit.”
“Yeah, remind me never to trust Odell again.”
“You okay?” he asked me.
“I will be once I speak to B.”
After what felt like an eternity, I turned into The Row and dropped Kye and Zane off at their trailers before heading to mine.
“Nix, sweetie, thank God.” Jessa came running out of the trailer as I was climbing out of the car.
“What happened?” My body tensed the second I heard the panic in her voice.
“It’s Wren, sweetie.”
“Wren?” The world grew small, my heart crashing wildly in my chest. “Is she okay?”
“Trina… she, uh, she’s gone, Nix.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “She’s gone.”
“What?” I staggered back, reaching out for something to break my fall.
Trina was gone.
Harleigh’s mom.
No.
Fuck no.
“I need to find Wren. I need—”
“They took her, sweetie. Mrs. Feeley saw the whole thing. The cops took her away and—”
I was already gone, jogging over to Harleigh’s trailer. “Wren.” I hammered the front door. “Open up, Wren. Come on.”
She wasn’t gone.
No way.
“Birdie, it’s me. Open up…”
“She’s not in there.”
Mrs. Feeley’s voice penetrated the blind panic ravaging my insides.
“She’s gone?” I asked, defeat slamming into me.
“Left about four thirty this morning. I was about to come out and see what all the commotion was about when I saw the police cruiser leave.”
“She’s at the station?”
“I don’t know, Phoenix. But she’s going to need you, son. Now more than ever.”
“Y-yeah.” I swallowed over the giant fucking lump in my throat. “I gotta go, Mrs. Feeley.”
“Go get our girl, Nix. You get her and hold on tight.”
I ran back to my trailer, blowing through the place to my bedroom. Grabbing the phone charger cable, I shoved it into the end and waited.
But when my cell phone came back to life, the message thread waiting for me almost sent me off the edge.
* * *
B: She’s gone, Nix. My mom is gone.
* * *
B: She was just lying there. I thought she was sleeping… Call me as soon as you get this. I need you, Nix. Please… call me.
* * *
B: Where are you? I’ve been calling you and the guys for hours. I’m scared, Nix. I’m at the police station and they won’t let me come home. What am I going to do? She’s gone and I… God, I can’t believe this is happening. How can the best night of my life become the worst? I hate it… Please, call me.
* * *
B: Nix… you’re scaring me. Why aren’t you answering me?
* * *
Then the most recent message, sent almost thirty minutes after all the others.
* * *
B: Nix, where are you? I need you. A man came to get me. He claims he’s my father. He wants to take me home with him. He wants to take me away. Nix… I know things are weird between us, but I need you… please.
* * *
Father?
What the actual fuck?
Harleigh didn’t have a father… She’d never even met her piece of shit sperm donor.
I checked the time.
Almost ten thirty.
It had already been almost four hours since she’d sent her last message.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
My fist flew out connecting with the wall and pain ricocheted up my arm.
“Nix?” Jessa rushed into the room, clapping a hand over her mouth. “Oh, Nix,” she cried, dropping onto the edge of the bed, and pulling me into her arms.
“She’s gone.” My voice cracked. I didn’t accept that, couldn’t accept it.
“We’ll figure it out,” she said. “I promise.”
Harleigh
“Harleigh, come on, open the door.”
Nate’s voice echoed around his family’s bathroom. It was a small room downstairs. I hadn’t even known where I was going when I got the text message from an unknown number, but I’d found myself in here and locked him out.
“Harleigh…” His bangs grew more insistent, each one reverberating through me, making me flinch.
“Stop,” I murmured, hands pressed to my ears. “Stop, stop, stop.”
I couldn’t breathe. My lungs were so tight they burned as I tried to force air into them. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Inhale. Hold—
“Harleigh, I swear to God—”
“Leave me alone,” I shrieked, laying down on the cool smooth tile. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t make my lungs work. “Just… just leave me alone.”
Clutching my cell phone, I read the text message again. The hateful, cruel words taunting me. Seeping into every crack and insecurity I had.
* * *
Unknown: Why don’t you just do us all a favor and go back to wherever you came from, piece of trailer trash whore. Or better yet, end it properly this time. No one wants you here. You think Miller gives a shit about you… He doesn’t. He feels sorry for you. Has some weird need to save you. But he doesn’t care about you. Nobody does. Your mom did the world a favor… Now why don’t you?
* * *
Bile rushed up my throat and I had to press a fist to my mouth, forcing myself to swallow it back down. My head swam with dark, dark thoughts; not helped by all the drugs in my system. The benzos. Nate’s really strong weed.
I probably shouldn’t have gotten so high, but when he’d lit up a blunt, I’d craved it. The momentary peace I knew it would bring me.