45. Chapter 45

Chapter 45

Kayla

"Are you sure you're feeling well?"

I smother a groan, giving Beth a bright, somewhat fake smile instead. "Absolutely. Thanks for asking, but I'm fine. It was just a minor stomach flu."

I love that my coworkers care about me. I really do, but I wish they'd stop asking me if I'm feeling well every twenty minutes. I hate lying to them, but somehow, I think yelling, "I wasn't sick, just kidnapped!" out loud for the entire department to hear wouldn't have the right effect. Also, the constant stream of visitors interrupts me from my work. It's early afternoon, and even though I've been buried in paperwork since morning, I still haven't caught up with everything I need to do.

"Okay, good." Beth heaves a relieved sigh. "You had me panicking there a bit. You can't be sick! The wedding is next week, and you haven't even tried on your bridesmaid's dress!"

I chuckle and shake my head. "Sure thing. I'll inform all the bacteria and viruses that I'm unavailable for the next two weeks. That should do the trick."

"Yeah, very funny. Wait until it's your wedding on the line. By the way, Wednesday, six p.m., dress fitting and emergency drinking night. I'll have my other bridesmaids over from Chicago. Olivia, my cousin, and Claire, who's officially my aunt, but she's three years younger than me, so she's like another cousin. We'll go—"

I hold a hand up to stop her. "I can't. I'm sorry, but I, uh… I already have something on Wednesday."

Beth narrows her eyes. "Are you lying to get out of drinking with my auntie? Because I wouldn't blame you. She drinks like there's no tomorrow."

While I'm not thrilled about drinking on a work night, this time, I have a legit excuse. Not one I'm willing to share, though, at least not in detail. My relationship with Ethan is still a secret, and given his local celebrity status, I want to keep it that way for now. The last thing I need is the womankind of Bluebell Springs hating me for nabbing the unattainable Ethan Bennett.

But Beth requires an explanation, so I go with the most vague one. "I have a date."

"Kayla Reynolds!" Beth squeals. "Finally! Who is it? Tell me! I know everything about everyone in town. I can tell you if he's good for you or not."

My cheeks heat as I remember the way Ethan fingered me just this morning. "Oh, he's definitely good for me. I'm not sharing his name yet, but maybe… Is it too late to add ‘plus one' to my wedding reception RSVP?"

"Wow, he's willing to go to a wedding with you already? How long have you guys been dating? Come on, you've got to give me something, girl!"

"Well, I haven't asked him about the wedding, but I think it won't be a problem. So, can I bring him?" I ask, purposely avoiding her question.

Beth nods excitedly. "Of course! In fact, why don't you both join us on Wednesday? I promise the girls won't try to steal him from you. Too hard. Actually, that's a lie," she chuckles. "If he's hot, those two sluts will be on him like cats on catnip."

"Yeah, that's why I'm not bringing him." I doubt Ethan would be interested in other women, but still, I'm not taking chances. He's mine and no horny sluts are allowed near him! "Have fun. Let me know when I can try on that dress."

"Sure. I'll text you. By the way, where are you having this date?"

"Why? Want to ‘accidentally' drop by to take a look?" I tease, knowing full well Beth is more than capable of doing just that.

She giggles. "No! Just curious. Come on, girl, spill."

"Fine," I concede, rolling my eyes. "It's called Alesso's."

Beth's mouth drops open. "Wow. Seriously? Did you find yourself a sugar daddy? That place is top class!"

"A sugar daddy?" I laugh, remembering Ethan's cringe when I called him daddy. "You have the vernacular of a street worker, Bethany Simmons," I chide playfully. "What does your fiancé say about your dirty mouth?"

"Jeremy loves my dirty mouth, thank you very much. Especially when it's wrapped around his—"

"Alright, that's enough," I interrupt her, laughing. "Get out of my office. I have to work and not imagine…things in your mouth."

Beth laughs back at me as she leaves. "I can't wait to find out who your sugar daddy is," she teases, ducking out the door as I throw a stack of Post-its at her.

I should be focusing on work, but I find myself googling Alesso's instead. Their website confirms that it's a high-class establishment with prices that make my eyes water. Still, Ethan insists on taking me there so we can have a "normal" date, so I guess he has the money to pay for it. With his hacking skills, he can probably make someone else pay for the dinner, anyway.

I don't even have to worry about what I'm going to wear, because I found a dress in the closet this morning. There were several, actually, ranging from business attire to casual summer dresses, but a flare of red caught my eye. A deep red dress, the very same I've been secretly admiring in the boutique Beth dragged me into what feels like a lifetime ago.

I don't know how Ethan knew I liked it. Did he hack the security cameras? Question the saleswoman? Magically read my mind? Whatever it was, I don't care. I love that he did this for me.

Every time he does something nice like this, I love him a little more, to the point my heart feels like it no longer fits inside my chest.

My phone vibrates, and I smile as I reach for it. Ethan has been texting me throughout the day, both to make sure I'm alright and to tell me he misses me. He's so damn sweet!

The message isn't from Ethan, though. It's from Georgia Simpson.

"Kayla, I think I'm in huge trouble," it says. "Could you come pick me up, please? Without telling anyone? I fucked up. Please, come get me." An address follows, one that isn't far from her apartment.

Dread runs down my spine. What has that girl gotten herself into now? I try to call her but it doesn't go through. On my second attempt, a robotic voice announces that the person I'm trying to reach is unavailable. "Fuck!" I curse quietly. "Why did you turn off your phone, Georgia? What are you doing?"

Frantic, I grab my purse and rush out of the office. Michelle is at court today, so nobody sees me leave. By the time I get to my car, which is fixed and was delivered here this morning, I remember the promise I gave to Ethan and reach for my phone again.

He was reluctant to leave me alone during the day, determined to hover nearby, but I promised I wouldn't step outside the building. Even he had to agree that the City Hall was a safe place for me, especially since the CPS department was just across the hallway from the sheriff's office. But I'm about to leave now, and I can't wait for him to come and pick me up.

I start the engine to turn the AC on because the day is warmer than a late spring day has any right to be, then call Ethan's number. He picks up almost immediately, as if he'd been holding the phone waiting for me to call. "Hi there, bunny. Everything okay?"

I scan my surroundings for anything suspicious before confirming, "I'm fine, but… Georgia just texted me. She's in some kind of trouble and wants me to pick her up."

"What kind of trouble?" Ethan asks, concerned. Mostly for me, I guess, but I like to think he's also worried about Georgia.

"I don't know. She just texted me and now her phone is off. I have the address. It's near Sunrise Terrace."

"Fuck, I'm on the other side of the town." A rustle sounds from the phone as if he's holding it between his shoulder and ear to have his hands free. "I'll meet you there in twenty minutes. Don't go inside alone."

"Fine. I'll text you the exact address and wait in the car."

A door slams closed on Ethan's end. "Good girl. Drive safe. And wait for me, Kayla. I'm serious."

"Yes, sir," I tease as I end the call and enter the address into my GPS. It shows me a ten-minute drive.

The house I arrive at looks more like a crystal meth den than a family home. What the hell is Georgia doing at a place like this? I thought she would be more responsible than that! Then again, I believe Arya's father lives somewhere around here, so perhaps she was meeting with him? But why wouldn't she let me come with her?

I park at the curb, warily eyeing the dilapidated porch of the simple two-story house. The windows on the bottom floor are boarded and the one I can see on the upper floor is broken. The neighboring houses don't look any better.

There doesn't seem to be anyone around, not in the house, or on the street. No signs of Georgia or anyone else.

I check the time, seeing that Ethan still has almost ten minutes before he gets here. A startled squeak escapes me when the phone vibrates just as I pick it up, and I nearly drop the damned thing.

My stomach sinks when I see another text from Georgia. "Kayla, please, are you here already? I really need help. My baby is—" The message cuts off there, as if Georgia didn't have time to finish typing it.

I try calling her again, but no one picks up.

"Come on, Georgia!" I slam my hands on the steering wheel in frustration. "What's going on? Why are you here? Is Arya in danger?"

It's the last thought that makes me break my promise to Ethan and exit the car. I simply can't sit by when a child might be in danger. Ethan, of all people, should understand that. Besides, he'll be here shortly and can follow me into the house once he arrives.

I throw the strap of my purse across my body to free my hands while searching inside for the can of mace I've been carrying around ever since Ethan first broke into my house. The thought has me chuckling momentarily before the gravity of the current situation weighs on me.

"Georgia?!" I call out as I step onto the porch, the wooden slats beneath my feet creaking in distress. "Georgia, are you there? Anyone?"

The door's cracked open, but I don't enter. Not just because I don't have any authority to do so, but also because the place looks like a fucking murder house. Despite being in love with a serial killer, I still have a shred of self-preservation left.

I knock, gently at first, then with more force. "Hello?!" As I pound on it, the door slides open a little, revealing trash scattered over the filthy floor. The interior of the house is murky, the boarded windows not allowing much light in, and the air is pungent with the smell of rot and mold. What a lovely place.

"Is anyone there?!" I call again. "Georgia?"

A baby starts wailing somewhere inside the house, hastening my decision to enter.

Legally, I'm not allowed to do this. I should call the police and wait for them to arrive. But Arya and Georgia might be in danger, so fuck the rules!

Dust invades my nose as I breathe in the stale air, and I have to suppress the urge to sneeze. "Georgia? Are you here? It's Kayla. You asked me to come. Please, talk to me."

The baby cries seem to be coming from a room in the back, so I cross the mostly empty living room to get there. "Georgia?"

Footsteps finally sound in the darkness ahead. A tall figure appears, most of their features concealed by an oversized hoodie. "Not here, I'm afraid," a male, hauntingly familiar voice snickers.

A chill runs through me, causing my blood to turn to ice and my body to go numb. Benjamin Adams is standing five feet away from me, holding a phone. Georgia's phone, judging by the gold and black glitter pattern on the case. He taps the screen and the baby wailing sound immediately stops.

Adams pulls his hood off, his white teeth glinting in a vicious smirk. "Took you long enough to get here, bitch, but it doesn't matter. You're here and I can finally make you pay."