Bad Intentions (Bad Love 2)

“Calm down. It’s just a little snow. Jess will be fine. We’ll find him. Do you want me to come pick you up?”

“No, I think it’s better to split up.”

“Okay,” he says after a long pause. “Are you okay?”

“Henry’s not my dad,” I say softly, and Dare curses under his breath.

“I’m sorry, baby.” And it’s not sympathy. It’s empathy. Because if anyone knows how it feels, it’s Dare. But on a much larger scale.

“I’m sorry,” I say, regret lacing my tone. “I know this doesn’t even come close to what happened to yo—”

“Hey, don’t compare tragedies. It’s okay to be upset, Lo.”

I wouldn’t call it a tragedy, but I appreciate him in this moment more than he’ll ever know.

“I’ll let you know if I find him,” Dare says. I thank him and hang up the phone, racking my brain for places to search. I drive around for another hour without luck. I wish I knew his coach’s number, or even where he lived. Maybe he went there.

My phone lights up with a text from Dare.

Dare: No luck. Anything?

Me: No. I’m going to go home and see if he went back. Get some sleep.

One of us should.

Dare: I’m going to go home to pick up my phone charger, then grab a cup of coffee. I’ll come to you.

There he goes again, making me feel all supported and shit. My chest physically aches when I think about all he’s done for me. For us. Everyone in town seems to be intimidated by him. Even he thinks he’s some kind of monster. But he’s never been anything other than an angel to me. My broken boy. Doesn’t he know he’s not really broken at all? It’s everyone else who’s flawed.

When I get back to Henry’s, Jess isn’t there. But fucking Crystal is. And she’s wearing a bath towel. I throw my hand up in her direction, looking to Henry for answers.

“Don’t look at me. She won’t leave.”

“So call the cops. I’m getting real good at that,” I say, fishing my phone out of my jacket pocket. “You’re on probation, right?” It’s an educated guess, but her reaction tells me I’m right.

“Logan, sweetie—”

“I know you told Eric where we were, too. I’ve always known you were selfish, but damn, Crystal. Do you have to make sure everyone else’s lives are as pathetic as yours? You couldn’t just let us have this?”

“I was helping you!” she screeches. “That man loves you, and he has money. He could take care of you for life. You’re an idiot to pass that up.”

Fucking typical.

“This may come as a shock to you, but to most people, there are more important things in life than money for your next fix.”

She opens her mouth to respond, but I hold my hand up to stop her as my phone, still in my other hand, vibrates with a text from Dare. I see the two words that have me sagging in relief: He’s here.

He went to Dare’s.

He went to Dare.

* * *

I KNOW SOMEONE IS IN my house the minute I open the door, even though I don’t see anyone. I walk into the kitchen, noticing an open cabinet, then wet footprints leading to the back door. I open the sliding glass door to see a shirtless Jess, nursing a near-empty bottle of Jack in my hot tub.

This is going to be a long night.

He stares ahead, unmoving. I shoot a text to Lo, letting her know that I’ve found him before pocketing my phone.