“It’s not safe for you to come with me, Ash,” I try to explain as I brush copper strands out of her face.
“It’s not safe here without you.”
My heart squeezes and threatens to stop. Pulling myself from her, I grab her face between both hands.
“Look at me.” I wait until the tears in her eyes spill, so I know she can see me clearly. “Iwillbe back for you. I promise,Ashlynn. Please know that,” I plead. She searches my eyes for a moment, then slowly nods.
“I have to go.” Pulling her in for a hug, she clings to me. Her hands fisting at the back of my shirt and arms tightening around me–almost as if she holds on tight enough, I can’t leave.
Pulling away, I step around her and make my way over to the window.
“Karson, please don’t go,” she begs, voice cracking.
I don’t stop. I can’t stop. If I do, I won’t leave and I can’t let Maverick down.
Raising the window slowly, she grabs my hand.
“Don’t do this. Please don’t do this, I need you.” Her heart broken sobs hit me in the ribs, cracking each and every one of them. She grabs for my hand, trying to pull me back into the room. I reach out to cup her cheek, swiping the tears away.
“Go back into your room, turn on some music, and I’ll be here when you wake up,” I tell her. My eyes dart back and forth between hers, hoping she believes me. She sniffles, then lets go of my hand before taking a step back and hugging herself around the middle. She’s trembling.
Opening the window the rest of the way, I get one foot outside and turn back one more time. She looks down at the floor, holding herself together while she silently cries.
I want to say something, anything else to her, to not let this be how I leave her–but nothing will make this right. The only thing I can do is keep my promise. And I will.
I shove myself out of the window onto the roof below the second floor. Grabbing onto a tree that sits next to the window, I ease myself to the ground. My feet land in the overgrown grass with a soft thud, and I make my way to the sidewalk.
Looking up, I see her sitting in my window, cheeks soaked as she watches me walk away.
NINETEEN YEARS OLD
I was right about that night. Maverick and I were met about three blocks away from the playground where we sat by two social workers and the police. They threw us in separate cars, and brought us to different group homes. Maverick went about an hour south, and they brought me about two hours north. When we both turned eighteen, we met at the same place, then went off to college together.
Elias found us about a month later after years of searching for him. Again, the system is good at losing kids. He worked with Maverick’s dad, and had been looking for him since he left the military. Since then, he’s taken us both into his home. He makes sure we stay on track in school, does his best to help us keep our anger in check–he’s had better luck with Maverick in that department–and trains us up for what we want to do when we’re finished college. Private security.
I’ve looked everywhere. With Elias’ help I’ve checked every foster home I could find in the area, every group home. I can’t find her. It’s as if she never existed. Just disappeared into thin air. He’s tried to explain to me that at this point, the chances of me finding her are slim to none, but I refuse to accept that. I promised her that I would be back.
After my eighteenth birthday, the day I left my final group home, I showed up on the doorstep of the house I left her in. Itwas empty now, that much I knew. His wife finally left him, and they both lost their foster care license.Too fucking late.
The drunk asshole father told me she was gone. That she left about a month after I did. He said her caseworker came and picked her up, and didn’t know anything more. I paid him for his intel with some broken ribs, a broken hand, a cracked eye socket and a shattered jaw. Elias found me before I could kill the fucker on his front steps.
I haven’t stopped looking.
Sitting on Elias’ couch, I pour over adoption records for the millionth time. Most people think you can only access open records. But, Elias has taught us backdoor ways to access closed ones as well. She’s nowhere in any of the thousands of records I’ve pulled.
She’s a ghost.
Dread settles over me once again as I close another folder. The part of me that’s rational knows Elias is probably right, and it makes me sick to my stomach.
I promised her.
And until I find her, whether it be on this side of life or the other, I will keep that promise.
CHAPTER TWENTY
You don’t hate me,you hate that you don’t.
My hands fist the steering wheel, knuckles pulling so tight they threaten to split. The road curves ahead of me, morning light just barely bleeding through the trees, announcing a brand new day.Crawl Back To My Coffinby Dayseeker blares through my speakers, rattling around inside of my skull, but it doesn’t drown him out. Nothing could.
