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I fucking promised her dad I’d get her home safe, and as much as I might not want to admit to the scary bastard that I’ve lost his daughter, I know I can’t put it off.
After all, I’m pretty sure I’m going to need his fucking help.
Damn it.
“Her house.”
Alex glances over at me as he backs off the drive.
“You serious?”
“You got any other suggestions?”
His lips part as if he has, but then he quickly closes them once more.
“He’s gonna fucking kill you, man.”
I shrug, resting my head back and letting my eyes close as he shoots down the street and back in the direction of the city.
My phone burns a hole in my pocket, but I leave it where it is for now. Calling in the troops is inevitable, but I need to talk to Dawson first.
If my suspicions are correct about who ran us off the road last night, then he might have more intel than I do.
If he doesn’t, then I guess we’ll both go in all guns blazing to get our girl back.
Assuming he doesn’t put a bullet through my head first, of course.
* * *
My heart pounds so hard as I come to a stop in front of Dawson’s front door that it feels like it’s relocated all around my body. But I refuse to let my concern show on my face. That motherfucker is as blank and fierce as it always is.
“Any last words?” Alex helpfully asks from behind me a beat before I press my finger on the bell.
“Fuck off, wanker.”
“Perfect. I don’t even need to write that one down.”
Heavy footsteps thump my way a few seconds before the door is unlocked and pulled open.
I don’t say anything as Dawson glares at me. His lips part, ready to say something, but he doesn’t seem to be able to find the words as he looks over my shoulder and only finds Alex waiting in the wings.
“I’m sorry, D. I didn’t—“
He takes a step back and opens the door wider.
“You should probably come in.”
I glance back at Alex. He hesitates as I take a step forward.
“Come on,” I say. “We’re gonna need all the brainpower we can get.”
As I walk down Dawson’s hallway, my eyes find Piper at the other end dressed for school. It’s the first time I realise that I have no idea what the time actually is.
“Theo, are you okay?” she asks the second she sees me, her brow wrinkling in concern.
“I’ll be better once we fix this shit,” I tell her, following Emmie’s dad into his living room.
He gestures for me to sit but he doesn’t join me. Instead, he just paces back and forth on the other side of the coffee table.
