Chapter 32

CHAPTER 32

L ock could barely breathe. Gone. She was gone. The words were on repeat in his head. It was like a nightmare he couldn’t wake up from.

Jesse lifted a phone from the bag. “This isn’t Antwan’s phone.”

Lock took it, noticing it was open to a photo album. His chest constricted.

Callie. Every fucking photo was Callie. Sleeping. Walking around town. Working in her studio.

Rage seared through his midsection, and he wanted to throw the goddamn cell. Either that or crush it in his fist. He probably would have if Eastern hadn’t taken it from his fingers.

His brother cursed under his breath when he saw the images. Jesse continued rummaging through the bag.

Lock couldn’t move. He’d put her stalker in the same damn house, right under her nose. He’d introduced them. Asked him to protect her.

“Who’s this?”

Lock turned at Eastern’s words and looked at the phone to see a photo of Antwan and a woman with green eyes and long dark hair. “Lola. They started dating in high school and got engaged a few years later, but she died of cancer four years ago.”

Jesse stepped forward. “They look the same.”

Lock frowned. “What?”

“I never thought about it before, but looking at her photo now…she looks like Callie. They have the same eyes. The same hair. The same build.”

Lock’s attention shifted back to the photo.

Was that what this was about?

“He used to talk about her sometimes,” Jesse continued. “One night he told me that when Lola died, a part of him died too. I always thought it was strange that he never mentioned Hollie. She died while they were dating too, but he never really expressed how he felt about that, not once in the two years since. Not like he did with Lola.”

“But he asked about Callie a lot over the years,” Lock said, almost to himself. “Out of everyone in my life, he asked about her the most. About whether she’d come home. Whether I knew where she was.” He’d thought Antwan was just being a good friend. He’d trusted him.

The rage on Jesse’s face mirrored Lock’s. They’d both trusted him.

“Any idea where he might have taken her?” Eastern asked, the only one with a semblance of calm in his voice.

Jesse frowned. “Antwan and Lola grew up not too far from here. North Carolina, I think. Maybe he has a place out there.”

“What was Lola’s full name?” Eastern asked, pulling out his phone.

“Hartford,” Jesse said. “Lola Hartford, and Antwan’s last name is Johnson.”

Eastern turned and called the station.

As Eastern spoke on the phone, a conversation with Antwan came back to him. About wanting to retire in the mountains with the woman he loved. In a cabin with an open fireplace and only trees for neighbors. At the time, Lock had thought he was talking about a woman he hadn’t met yet. But maybe not. And maybe he already had the cabin…or had access to it.

“A cabin.”

Eastern turned, phone still to his ear. “What?”

“Find out if Antwan, his family, or hell, Lola’s family, had a cabin somewhere in the mountains.”

His brother didn’t question him, just nodded and repeated what Lock had said to his deputies.

Lock ran his fingers through his hair, wanting to pull the fucking strands out. Helpless. He felt completely and utterly helpless. He couldn’t breathe until he knew she was safe. But he wouldn’t have that confirmation until he figured out where the hell she was.

“How didn’t I see it?” Lock asked, more to himself than anyone else. “We’ve seen them together so many times since he got to town. Aspen was around them twice , and she saw everything I didn’t.”

“Because you trusted him, so you weren’t looking for this.”

“I should have been. For Callie, I should have questioned every damn person in her life.” When he got her back—because he would get her back—he’d spend the rest of his life making it up to her.

Ten minutes later, Eastern’s phone rang.

His brother answered the call, his gaze rising to Lock’s, expression unreadable. “Send me the location and meet me there.” Eastern hung up, eyes still on him. “Lola’s family owns a cabin in the mountains near Asheville, North Carolina.”

Lock was moving before his brother had finished speaking. Sprinting out the door and toward the car.

She was there. She had to be.

God, her head pounded. She touched her temple and flinched.

That son of a bitch.

She forced her eyes open. She was lying on the couch. She turned her head, groaning at the small movement.

“I didn’t want to hurt you, Callie.”

She froze at his voice. Then, slowly, she pushed into a sitting position and focused on Antwan. He stood in the kitchen, shirtless, as he dabbed at the stab wound on his stomach with a cloth. A stab wound she’d given him.

Fear shuddered down her spine. She’d never hurt another person before, let alone stabbed them.

“You’re safe here. But don’t do that again.”

Safe with a lunatic? She absolutely wasn’t. “I need you to leave Lock alone.”

A muscle clenched in his jaw. He turned toward the sink to rinse out the cloth, and she frowned when she saw something poking out of his back pocket.

Keys. A key to the door, certainly. Maybe the windows too…

Adrenaline spiked her heart rate.

He turned back toward her, cursing as he patted the wound once again.

She straightened. “I’m sorry. When you said you were going to hurt Lock, I freaked out.”

“It has to be done,” he said, voice unyielding. “For us to be together, he has to die.”

Fear for Lock once again crawled around her veins. She had to do something, and she had to do it now. Without a word, she rose to her feet, only to stumble at the sudden dizziness.

Antwan’s gaze shot across to her. “Are you okay?”

Really? He was asking her if she was okay after he’d knocked her out? “I’m fine.” If you called a blazing headache fine.

She crossed the space between them and stopped in front of him. “Let me.”

His brows flickered, but she placed a hand over his and he let go of the cloth. She patted the wound, noticing how Antwan’s muscles rippled beneath her touch.

“I really am sorry,” she said quietly. “I was scared.”

“You don’t ever have to be scared with me.”

Being this close to him, she wasn’t just scared, she was terrified. He was unpredictable and unhinged. Every part of her screamed to step away from the predator. But she didn’t have the luxury of doing that right now.

She moved around him and rinsed the cloth before patting the wound once more. “You should get this looked at by a professional.”

“No. I’m not seeing anyone.”

She swallowed before grabbing the bandage from the counter and placing it over the wound. “Does it hurt?”

“I’ve had worse.” There was a small beat of silence before he asked, “Do you think you could learn to love me?”

She froze. There was almost a desperation in his voice. How had no one realized how unstable Antwan was? How had he hidden this side of himself for so long and so well?

Forcing herself to look him in the eye, she told him what he wanted to hear and made sure it was believable. “Yes, I think I could. I think you would be easy to love.”

His chest rose on a deep inhale, eyes heating as he pulled her against him, his face once again dipping into the crook of her neck. “I needed to hear you say that, Cal. I needed it so bad.”

Hearing him use her nickname felt wrong. Only people close to her used it. She hugged him back, slipping her arms around his waist and running her hand over his back. As she did, she carefully slipped the keys from his pocket.

When he pulled back, she quickly slipped her hand to her side, half behind her.

“We’re going to be okay,” he said quietly. “You’ll learn to love me. You won’t get sick. We’ll be happy.”

She wouldn’t get sick? Why had he said that? Had someone else he loved become sick?

“We’ll be okay,” she repeated. “I might go lie down, if that’s all right?”

Concern tugged his brows together. “Your head—”

“Is fine. I just need some rest.”

He was still frowning, but he nodded.

She was careful to turn in a way so that he didn’t see what was in her hand. It was hard to walk away slowly when all she wanted to do was run.

Once in the bedroom, she closed the door softly and sat on the bed, making sure the springs made the appropriate sounds before she silently rose again and went to the window.

There were three keys on the ring. She tried the first in the lock. It didn’t slide in. She tried the second. It slid in but didn’t turn.

One left.

Fear gnawed at her belly. What if this didn’t open the window? He’d find out she took the keys and then what? What would he do?

With even breaths, she tried the third key. It slotted in…and turned.

Relief almost caved her knees.

Unlocked. The window was unlocked.

Quietly, she shoved it open. There was the smallest creak, and she cringed, waiting for the bedroom door to bang open and Antwan to be there.

Nothing happened. The room remained silent.

She pushed the window open another few inches and climbed out.

The moment her bare feet hit the ground outside, she started running. Sprinting toward the trees. She had no idea where she was going or if she’d even find help, but she had to try.

A loud shout sounded behind her, and she almost stumbled.

Focus kept her on her feet. Focus to get away. Focus to find help.