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“I’m going with you,” Katie says. The worry in her eyes definitely has me on edge.

“Someone needs to be with Mom, Katie. Mr. Johnson needs to take his wife home so she can rest.”

“Horse feathers, I can stay,” Mrs. Johnson insists, but I share a look with her husband. He’s worried. These two people have been so good to me. I won’t allow her to hurt herself. She has a central nervous disease that gives her a lot of pain and overtaxing makes it even worse.

“How about I take your mom into town to meet with the funeral home and order flowers,” Jeff volunteers. I see Katie’s eyes go soft. He’s going to win her over yet. I shake my head. Jesus, I really am ridiculous. Jake is right to mock me. “That way, Katie can go with you. If you find them, Katie and Callie can meet us in town,” he adds.

“Do you guys really think Callie and Mitch are missing?” Mom asks, alarmed.

“Callie could be sleeping if she took meds for a migraine. I’m sure she’s fine, but it’s best we check on her. Maybe she needs stronger meds,” I invent. I’m not sure of anything at this point.

I’m just trying to put Mom at ease. I have no explanation for where they might be. Mitch is a fuck-up, but Callie would move heaven and earth to be there for my mom. She loves her. The two of them are extremely close. Hell, Mom began living again when Callie came into the family.

“She has been really sick lately. She’s not sleeping and she’s getting all these bruises. I’ve been trying to talk her into being tested for cancer. You remember your cousin David, right, Reed? Remember how the doctor was treating him for back pain, but he kept getting bruises and things? Poor thing died at twenty-five with cancer. It wasn’t even detected until it was too late.”

My gaze is on Katie. She’s wringing her hands together, clearly worried.

How in the hell did we get here?

CHAPTER 23

Reed

“What don’t I know, Katie?” I ask when we’re almost to Callie’s. It’s been a quiet ride, neither of us talking. It almost feels like we’re afraid to.

“You know everything I know, Reed. At least everything I’m positive on,” she qualifies.

“You think it’s Mitch, don’t you?” I prompt, speaking out loud what we’re both worried about the most.

“I don’t have proof and I’ve asked Callie a lot, Reed.”

“But?”

“But the bruises I’ve seen seem excessive for it to be work. When I’ve asked her about it, she says it’s from patients on her floor. I know that can happen, but the ones I’ve seen seem more violent than what they would be if her explanations are to be believed.”

“Nurses can have confused patients, though, Katie,” I rationalize, not wanting to believe the alternative.

“I know, Reed. That’s why I’m saying you know everything I do. I don’t have proof for anything, but she’s showing classic signs of a battered woman. Her personality has changed. She’s pulled away from her friends. Then, there are the unexplained bruises, the miscellaneous injuries, and all the excuses as to why she’s unable to do stuff she used to love. I just…Shit, Reed,” she breathes. “I don’t know what I’m saying. Something just doesn’t feel right.”

“Fuck.”

“There’s a chance I could be wrong and I’m projecting because I hate Mitch so much,” Katie adds just as we park behind Callie’s car.

“Yeah,” I answer.

“Aren’t you going to try calling them again?” Katie asks.

“You do it if you want,” I tell her, not waiting to see if she does. Fear has a death grip on me right now. Katie might hate Mitch, but I know firsthand what a fucking prick he is. I all but jump out of the car, heading straight for Callie’s front door. I pound on it immediately. “Mitch, Callie, are you in there?” After doing that twice I take out the key I got from Mom’s and unlock the door.

Walking in, the foyer is all quiet, and I start to breathe. It looks—

All thoughts freeze in mid thought as my gaze moves over to the kitchen table and the mess around it. I walk to it, feeling as if time has slowed down around me. My heart is nothing but a steady thundering in my chest.

Chairs are knocked on their sides and upturned, the table is scooted sideways, and there is glass everywhere. That’s when I look to the living room and see the television is laying on the floor as if it fell off the stand. There are assorted things around it, too. Things that either came off with the television or when something hit the unit.

“Oh fuck,” Katie hisses.

I don’t respond. I’m too busy staring at the floor. There’s a dark red pool of blood in the kitchen. I walk toward it, stopping because I can see it moves in a line toward the hallway.

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