Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 71625 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71625 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Conleigh looked torn.
“I…”
“Tell us,” I urged. “This needs to be figured out. We need to know who this kid is, and we need to know more than what we’ve been able to pick up from searching his fake Facebook account.”
“He’s not nineteen. We never discussed how old he actually is, but nineteen isn’t possible. He’s, uhhh, maybe twenty-three or four.”
“What kind of car does he drive?” I asked. “Did he tell you to call him by any other name? What does he look like? What color is his hair? Does he have any distinguishing tattoos? Do you know where he lives?”
She swallowed, then shook her head. “He’s maybe five ten or eleven. He has dark black hair, brown eyes, and a small scar on his cheek. No tattoos that I’ve seen, either.”
I looked over at Winnie.
Winnie looked ready to strangle Conleigh.
“Anything else?” I asked gently.
“N-no.” She shook her head. “I’ve only seen him for about twenty minutes twice now. We’ve met down the block. He’s always in a rental car. He said his is in the shop.”
I nodded. “That’s more than what I had an hour ago…time for you to head to your room.”
Conleigh looked ready to argue, but her mother’s snapped, “NOW!” made her hop to without a backward glance.
I looked over at Winnie. “Come here.”
She shook her head.
I got up and went to her. Then wrapped her in my arms. “It’ll be okay, baby.”
“It will?” she asked. “Because from where I’m standing, I’m raising a criminal and a stupid child who could’ve gotten herself killed today.”
“She’s not stupid, baby,” I soothed, rubbing my hand down her back and calming her shaking body. “She’s a normal teenager who thinks, like we all thought, that she’s smarter than we are. We all did stupid shit when we were kids.”
She dropped her head to my chest.
“I hope you’re right.”
Chapter 19
In case you’re confused, God would never send you someone else’s husband.
-Winnie to her ex-best-friend
Winnie
I watched, for the seventieth time in an hour, as the message chimed on Conleigh’s phone.
Andy: You’ll regret this, bitch.
Andy: I’ll show you what happens when girls stand me up.
The messaging had started at 12:01 in the morning, and even now, at 12:36, they were still going strong.
“Just let him vent, baby,” Steel murmured. “I’ll be there in an hour. Just have to finish up a few searches. Love you.”
I blinked and pulled the phone away from my face, staring at it like it was an alien life form I’d never seen before in my life.
“Love you?” I breathed.
LOVE YOU!
Did he really just say love you?
Oh my God!
I pressed the phone to my chest and tried to contain the freakin’ smile that was threatening to break my face.
“Mommy, can I take this to bed with me?”
I looked at Cody, who was supposed to be asleep over an hour ago, yet was still going strong for some reason. It was like he was high on caffeine or something.
Though, I had a feeling it had more to do with the fact that I still had every single light on in the entire house. Or, quite possibly, it was because we were at Steel’s place instead of our own.
We’d left our place around ten, and I was convinced that there was just something wrong with me. I didn’t want to be in that house for some reason, so we came to Steel’s place because I could breathe easier over here.
To say that I was nervous and scared was an understatement.
There was just something about this boy that was rubbing me the wrong way. Despite Steel’s numerous searches, he couldn’t find a single thing out about him, and it had us both concerned.
“Please, Mommy?”
Cody was wearing goggles and flippers—or mask and fins as Steel referred to them. I’d found out earlier in the day when Steel came by my place that tomorrow was the annual training for his SCUBA certifications. He’d had all of this stuff in his cruiser, but he had to take it out because apparently his vehicle had to be taken in for maintenance.
Cody, Conleigh, and I had helped him carry all of his stuff in. That was when Steel had discussed with both of my children—even Conleigh had listened entranced—what a certified scuba guy like him could do.
He’d showed them portable emergency oxygen tanks. He’d showed them his regulator, and answered Cody’s eight million two hundred seven questions about SCUBA diving. The rest of the night, Cody kept sneaking in there to see the various pieces of equipment and then I’d help him research them online.
Before Steel knew it, Cody would be there in that water right along with him.
“Come on, buddy,” I said and slammed the laptop closed. “Let’s go put that up. Then it’s time for bed. For real. We have a million and two things to do tomorrow, and I can’t have you sleeping the day away.”