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My phone buzzed, and I took a chance looking at it. I nearly jumped out of my seat when Eliza's name flashed across the screen.
ELIZA: If you want to come, I put a ticket for you in my grandma’s mailbox. I’d like to see your face there.
This was so unlike her. My strong girl swallowed her pride and was trying to build a bridge with me. Dammit, I just needed to take the first step across it. Except it felt like a fucking leap into the oblivion.
It wasn’t just Mom and Dad supporting me, but it was their looks of disappointment that twisted my gut. But maybe Jude had it right. He knew he’d never be happy here, and I was beginning to wonder if I could ever find happiness while being suffocated. When I thought of happiness, I thought of a warm summer, windows down, Eliza in the front seat, and the road in front of us.
I sent a quick text to Jude
ME: If Mom and Dad disown me, I’m crashing at your place for the next year.
JUDE: Best of luck.
I stood abruptly, nearly knocking over the water, and wine glasses littering the table. My mom raised her eyebrows. Dad pursed his lips.
“Happy birthday, Mom!” I said, kissing her cheek.
I walked around the table. I stuck out my hand to Mr. Denvers. “Sir, it is an honor to have been offered a position at your company, but I must decline. I know the paperwork is processing but I will call and get that straightened out. I have several members of my cohort who would be excellent candidates if you find yourself in need.”
“Trask.” Mr. Denvers started, but I turned to my father.
I clapped the back of my dad’s shoulder. “See you around I guess.”
“Son—” I ignored him, walking out of the restaurant. “Trask!”
I practically sprinted to my car, peeling out of the parking lot and racing to Eliza's house.
Her Honda was nowhere to be seen, and I was afraid I was too late. There were a bunch of junkers in the yard, but the lights were off in the house. I knocked, no answer. I figured they’d already be at the event center.
I ran out to the mailbox. It was empty.Empty? What the fuck?I used my phone to shine a light and search the ground. Nothing. Eliza wouldn’t have done that to spite me, would she?No, she wouldn’t.
I tried calling her. Nothing. I called Rosalie. Nothing.
“Fuck!” I screamed at the sky.
“Who the hell are you?”
My head whipped around, searching for the voice I knew belonged to Eliza's grandfather. I should have ignored him. I should have walked away. But I was on a roll, may as well add another sin to my list.
“Where is Eliza?” I asked, walking toward the shop where the absolutely giant man leaned over his work table, grease rag in hand.
“She left. Don’t live here no more.” He looked me up and down. “Now who the hell are you?”
I grit my teeth. “Look, I am going to be as respectful as I can to you sir but given the fact that I’veseenthe bruises on Eliza, please know it is taking every ounce of self-control to keep calm. Where. Is. Eliza?”
Her grandfather had the sense to look abashed for half a second. “I didn’t—”
“Save it,” I said. “Where is she?”
“Who are you?” He crossed his arms, the angry spark back in his eye.
“I’m her boyfriend.”
“She never said—”
“—And she never told you about her incredible yet closeted writing career,” I interrupted. “So just tell me where the fuck she is!”
He took a slow swig from his flask. “I think she was heading to Utah to look at rocks or something.”
