Always The Hero (Plot Twist, I'm Pregnant 2)

When I got to town and the main road, I remembered that the kidnapper’s car was on this street. I hurried down the sidewalk and dove onto a side road. He would notice me considering I was soaked and dirty, completely out of place from everyone else.

People bumped into me, glared at me, curled their lips at me in disgust when they saw me. Panic spun inside me like a tornado, and right as I was about to lose it, I ran into something sturdy. It was a light pole.

There was a big white poster attached to it that had a familiar face on it.

My face.

It was me.

Impossible.

In big black letters at the top, it said, ‘MISSING’.

Who cared enough to search for me? No one else had before. I glanced down, and it said, ‘If seen, please call Logan Green at…’ and it listed a number and an address.

“Logan,” I repeated, reaching out to touch the face so well drawn on the poster. I ripped it down, clutched it in my hands, and started toward the direction of his house again. I wasn’t sure why he cared so much. Maybe he genuinely wanted to help me, and I had never had that before. If I wanted to be honest with myself, I was tired of being lonely, it ate at me every day, and this life was starting to get to me.

I was having really dangerous thoughts, things I never wanted to do or think about again, but when I got depressed, they wiggled their way in, pulling me back under the progress I made. I kept to the edges of the city, staying on back roads and alleyways.

Tears burned eyes and fell like hot droplets of lava on my cheeks when I saw the subdivision.

It was then I realized how happy I was to finally feel the silly emotion I never allowed myself to feel.

Hope.

Chapter Seven

Logan

I searched for her all night and all day. Haden and I hung up posters all night after Godrick did a quick sketch. I hadn’t slept in more than twen

ty-four hours, and every muscle in my body ached from finishing the bedroom and putting the final touches on it, so she had a place to sleep.

Lucy said Abigail was more than welcome there, but my gut told me introducing her to people slowly would be the key, not all at once.

I was on my way back to the house. I had to get a coffee pot, and I didn’t want to miss her coming home if she did.

Home.

I was already thinking that my house was her house. I was already in deep, and I knew nothing about this woman. What the hell was wrong with me?

My phone rang, and it came from a number I didn’t know. I pressed the green button on my steering wheel since I connected to Bluetooth and answered, “Hello?”

“Is this the number to call if I saw this woman on the poster?” an old lady’s voice shook, but she sounded sweet and sincere. I imagined she had a few cats and liked to knit. Just like any other old lady, or was that stereotyping? I didn’t know what old people liked to do; I didn’t know any.

“It is. Have you seen her?” I pressed on the gas harder, and the truck surged forward with more power.

“Why, you know, I think I did,” she said slowly. “I was lookin’ out my winda’, you know, watching that Henderson boy from across the way. He is up to no good, I tell you what, and I didn’t want him and his little skater friends ruining my petunias. I just planted them, and you know, it’s hard to get around when someone is my age, so gardening is hard for someone with my old bones.”

“Right,” I said, not wanting to be rude. “Ma’am? Have you seen the woman on the poster?”

“Oh, right. Sorry, dear. I tend to ramble. I saw this young lady go into that house you’re building across the street. I assume you are the Logan that your crew members are always yelling for, waking me up from my afternoon nap,” she huffed. “I don’t like to be woken up.”

I smiled. She was feisty. I would have to visit her and make proper introductions. “I’m sorry about that, Ms?”

“Ms. Molly. That is what everyone calls me.”

“Ms. Molly. Thank you for letting me know about my friend. I’ll make sure to tell my crew to take their lunch break around your naptime.”