Bad Influence (Bad Love 3)

“Where are you?” a dude’s voice shouts from my truck speaker.

“Who the fuck is this?” I scowl at my phone, taking another look at the number.

“It’s Dylan.”

My heart kicks in my chest as dread seeps in. The fact that he’s calling me means he went out of his way to track my number down, and my first thought is something’s happened to Allie.

“Is she okay?” I bite out.

“Do you know what today is?” he asks cryptically, instead of answering the goddamn question.

“No.”

I hear him scoff on the other line, my patience wearing thin.

“Allie’s dad died a year ago today. Which means it’s also her birthday.”

“Fuck!” I bring a fist down onto the steering wheel. I was on my way to Crystal’s to grab the rest of my shit, already planning to head back to River’s Edge, but I jerk the wheel, flipping a bitch in the middle of the highway.

“She didn’t show up for class, and no one has seen her.”

“I’m on my way.”

Once I hung up the phone, I saw the text from Allie. Three words that cemented the fact that I’m the world’s biggest piece of shit. I need you. I turned a two-hour trip into an hour twenty-five, tops. I knew getting her back wasn’t going to be easy after the way I ended things at Crystal’s apartment, but I also knew I had to be there for her. I didn’t know where to start, so I went to Dare’s first, not expecting to find her curled up on the bedroom floor.

Eyes still closed, I stretch my arm out, reaching for Allie, but all I find are cold sheets in her place. Opening my eyes, I see that the light is off in the bathroom through the open door. I stumble out of bed, heading for the hall. “Allie?” I call out. I yawn, scratching my stomach as I walk downstairs. When I find the kitchen and living room empty, my gut twists with dread. Where the fuck did she go?

I jog back up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and pull open the closet door to confirm my suspicion. Her suitcase is gone. I turn for the dresser, yanking out the drawers and flinging them to the floor, even th

ough I already know they’re all empty.

“Fuck!” I yell, bracing my hands against the top of the dresser before kicking the shit out of it.

“Jess!” I hear Lo yell right before she barrels into the room in a T-shirt and baggy boxers, looking half-asleep. “You’re back? What the hell?”

“She’s gone. She’s fucking gone.”

Lo’s expression morphs from angry to sympathetic in record time. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. I thought—” I shake my head, playing last night’s events over in my head. I should have fucking known she wasn’t going to forgive me that fast. I just thought she wanted a distraction from her grief. Turns out, she was really saying goodbye. I knew something was off. It felt different, and not just because I didn’t use a condom.

I spot my discarded jeans on the floor next to the bed and go to dig my phone out of the pocket when a blue sticky note on the nightstand catches my attention.

Nothing gold can stay.

I peel the note off the nightstand, feeling like I’ve been kicked in the stomach. “Fuck that.” Reaching for my jeans, I find my phone and hit call. It rings through to voicemail—no fucking surprise there—but I call right back again.

Pulling on my wrinkled ass jeans and T-shirt, I head back downstairs, but Lo blocks my path at the bottom of the steps.

“Stop and think, Jess.”

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. Move.” Anyone else would step aside, but Lo stands her ground, knowing I’d never harm a hair on her head.

“Running after her like this isn’t going to fix anything.”

“I have to try. I can’t—I’ve never—” I stutter, unable to find the right words, frustrated that I sound like a lovesick pussy. “I fucking love her, Lo.”

She gives me a sad smile. “I know you do.” She moves aside. “So don’t fuck it up by scaring her off when she’s already halfway out the door.”