Page 77 of Back To Our Beginning

She elbowed me in my ribs, luckily on my uninjured side, and I rolled to my back. “I’m so sorry,” I sobbed. “My legs won’t work. They need time to wake up.”

“I should just let you piss yourself,” she said as she climbed to her feet and dusted off the front of her jeans.

“Please don’t. Please give me ten minutes. I’ll be able to walk by then.”

“You damn well better be.”

“I’m sorry I ripped your tank top,” I murmured.

She looked down at her tank top, then back up at me. “You bitch!” She slapped me across my face. “This was my best tank.” I watched as she hustled out of the room. This time she closed the door behind her, and I hated that. I’d really hoped I’d have some kind of advance warning when she was coming back, but with the door closed, I was flying blind.

I pulled her phone out from underneath my butt. It was still unlocked. I swiped over it to keep it unlocked, then pushed up to my knees and pulled myself up, using the work bench. When I was leaning against it, I leaned in and read the one belt buckle I could make out. Champion Bronc Rider, 1972, Memphis, Tennessee. It had to be her granddad, right?

Resting my elbows on the work bench, I started a new text. The only numbers I knew by heart were my sisters. Trenda and Evie would know what to do, but the twins? Piper? They’re not used to⁠—

What if Trenda and Evie didn’t see it quick enough? Fuck it, I’d send the text to all five of them.

IT’S MADS. BEEN KIDNAPPED. NO JOKE. DON’T TEXT BACK. AT HOUSE WITH 1972 CHAMP BRONC RIDER, MEMPHIS TENN. TELL SIMON.

I pressed send and deleted the entire message conversation, then dropped to the floor, flinging the cell phone over towards the water heater.

I rolled back over to where I was, doing my best not to roll onto the embedded glass in my side. I touched it and found that it was oozing blood. This was so not good. Three or four minutes went by. Where was she?

The door flung open. Lana stepped in, then slammed the door shut. She looked furious as she paced around the room. Then her gaze centered on me.

“Did you take my phone?”

“Huh?”

“My phone? Did you take it?” She stood over me. I braced for another hit.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

There was a ding. I recognized that sound. It was the sound of an incoming text. Oh please, say it wasn’t one of my younger sisters replying to my text. I should have only sent it to Trenda and Evie.

Dammit Beau. I really did love you.

Chapter Twenty-One

I shoved down my irritation as I saw Trenda’s name pop up on Simon’s truck display. We didn’t have time for wifey shit.

He pressed the connect button so she could be heard through his car speakers.

“Hi Trenda. How⁠—”

“I got a text from Maddie.”

I sat up straight. “That’s not possible. We have her purse, and her phone was in it,” I said.

“No, it wasn’t from her phone number. It was from a phone with an Indiana area code. I looked it up.”

“Then how can⁠—”

Simon cut me off. “Trenda, what did the text say?”

“It said. It’s Mads. Been kidnapped. No joke. Don’t text back. At a house with 1972 Champ Bronc Rider, Memphis, Tenn. It was the abbreviation for Tennessee, four letters, T.E.N.N. I don’t know if that makes a difference. Then the text said to tell Simon. Everybody else has been texting and calling me.”

“What do you mean, everybody else?” Simon asked.