Hold on to Hope

“I’m his mama. Of course, I knew. Not sure why you two thought you needed to keep it a secret.”

“We were gonna tell y’all.”

I mean, I’d just turned eighteen. My daddy wasn’t gonna be all that thrilled about it, but he would have gotten over it.

She seemed to war with what to say, hesitating before she seemed to decide differently and headed for the door, only to pause to look back at me from over her shoulder. “Just . . . be careful, Frankie Leigh. For both of you. There are a whole lot of hearts at stake right now.”

Without giving me time to respond, like I even would have been able to with the instant pressure crushing my ribs, she disappeared back through the door.

I fought my own war, pulling out my phone and looking at it again before I typed out another message.

Me: Dinner. Friday. Let’s talk.

I went to chewing at my lip again, added a couple more words.

Me: And just . . . watch out for Jack. Let me know if you see him. I don’t trust him.

* * *

I was the last to leave that evening, closing up the café, making sure the front doors were secured and double-checking that the ovens were off and the refrigerators were running.

When I verified everything was set, I flipped off the lights and stepped out the back door, locking it up tight.

Gravel crunched under my shoes as I made my way to my car, clicked the lock, and got inside. I pushed the button to turn the ignition, the headlights instantly coming to life, and I put it in reverse and started to pull out.

It was just a flash of something that I caught out of the corner of my eye.

A shadow.

A vapor.

A horrible, terrible premonition.

The hairs lifted at the back of my neck, and I struggled to see into the darkness, the shape gone as fast as I’d noticed it.

Shaking it off, I hit the road and headed for home.

But that sensation wouldn’t leave me. The phantom feeling that I was being watched.

Tailed.

Tracked.

I slowed my car, searching through the rear-view mirror. The car right behind me slowed, and when I made a sudden left, it did the same.

My heart rate spiked and dread slicked my flesh in a sticky sweat.

I made a quick right.

The car did the same.

I made another, then rasped out in relief when it went left.

With the headlights shining bright, I could barely make it out, the black car that could be anybody’s. But something about it felt familiar. Like I’d seen it before.

I gave a harsh shake of my head. I was being paranoid.

Winding back to my normal route, I drove the rest of the way toward home and took the last right into our neighborhood.

Everything was quiet, the sun giving up its hold on the day, twilight sinking into the atmosphere.

Strewing the sky with blues and purples and one twinkling star that made itself known just above the horizon.

I made the left into our duplex. The front porch light was on, but the lights were out. Carly and Josiah would be off doing their thing for their bowling league which basically was slamming more drinks than pins that they would topple.

My gaze moved to the duplex to the left that was just as vacant. Jack’s car was nowhere to be found.

Blowing out a strained breath, I came to a stop, killed the engine, and cranked open the door.

Shivers rolled across my flesh the second I stepped out.

That creeping dread chasing me home.

I slung my bag up high on my shoulder. Well, that was right after I’d fumbled around to find the mace that Dad had insisted on when I started driving and had been sittin’ in the bottomless pit of my bag for the last five years.

My footsteps were slowed, and my breaths were heavy and hard, punting into the air.

I was being ridiculous.

Completely ridiculous.

That was until I took the two steps onto the porch and my eyes hit the disgusting words that had been painted in huge letters across the wood.

FREAK FUCKER.

My hand flew to my mouth to try to stop the sob from ripping out. It got loose anyway, my vision blurry from the instant tears as I stumbled around and searched the dusky vacancy.

Only the howl of the trees murmured back.

I fumbled for my phone and typed out the text.

Me: I need you.

Twenty-Two

Evan

I flew the streets of Gingham Lakes in the direction of Frankie Leigh’s house.

Pulse pounding so fiercely it was making it difficult to see. Difficult to think.

Rage flooded my bloodstream as streetlamps flickered to life above. Day fading to darkness and night settling in a dreary cloud over the city.

Every second that ticked by made me feel like I was going insane.

Felt hostage to this mess I wasn’t sure how to get out of.