Worth the Risk (The Game #4)(52)
Author: Emma Hart

Shit. The date.

I go to my calendar, and I’m taunted by the red dot on the space showing five days ago. Taunted. Warned. Threatened. It stares at me and I blink at it, frozen in this spot. I don’t know how I missed that.

I don’t know how I missed being late.

~

Run. That was my first thought as I left McDonalds two days ago. Run and hide and get out of Portland. I can’t drink now – how can I? How can I do that knowing there could be something… a baby… growing inside me? I can’t. No way.

I left the restaurant, stopped by a drugstore and the motel, and got the bus back to Verity. For the last two days I’ve been hiding out at the gorge trying to clear my head.

I need to run, and this is the only place I have to hide.

My hand grazes over the tree trunks while I walk around aimlessly. The rough bark is much like my thoughts; chopping and changing every second. I can barely think straight for all the craziness up there right now.

I know hiding isn’t the answer, and I know I can’t hide up here forever, but I can’t go home without knowing. It would be easier if I could talk to someone about this, but I can’t. If I’m too scared to answer myself there’s no way I can answer someone else right now.

Besides, the one person that needs the answer isn’t around. The one person that deserves the truth and would hold me as I wait isn’t here. That’s something I only have myself to blame for.

I pushed him away. I pushed him away with the same force I held him to me with so many times. I’d do anything to pull him back to me right now. I’m just too stubborn to apologize.

I’m too stubborn and afraid and guilty to grab my phone and dial his number. I’m too chicken to give him the truth he deserves. The truth he needs.

The truth that’s both our faults. It’s the age old cliché as always – caught up in the moment and forgot to use protection. I’ve never forgotten before – ever – but I did with Kyle. I forgot to reach into the drawer in my nightstand and grab the little foil packet.

If I had I wouldn’t be here now. I wouldn’t be hiding out like a fugitive, bathing in my own guilt and fear. I’d be in Portland still, probably, wondering what the hell to do. Wondering whether to come home or not.

Now the white box taunts me as the corner of it pokes out of my bag. It begs me to rip off the plastic wrapping and get the answer I’m so desperately craving. But I won’t. I won’t because I keep hoping I’ll get the courage to call him…even though I know it’s not gonna happen.

My cell screen blinks at me as I check through the calendar one more time like I’ve miscounted one hundred times. I haven’t.

Silence.

That’s all that’s here.

It lets me think. It makes me think.

I’ve accepted no one is going to find me up here. It really is the perfect hiding place. There’s no prying eyes, no whispers, no anything.

I didn’t go home last night. I wanted to, but I’m not ready to talk to anyone yet. I’m not ready to tell everyone what’s going on.

Hell, I need to find out for myself still.

The little white box stares at me again. The words burn into my brain, searing into my memory, and it’s just begging me to pick it up.

It’s the only way I’ll get my answer. I’m a week late now. I either am or I’m not.

I don’t know what I’ll do if I am.

I don’t know how I’ll tell Kyle.

I grab the box and pull off the plastic wrapping. My fingers run around the edges of the box, my eyes following their path.

I could know in five minutes. I could have the answer I’ve been waiting for. I could put an end to my wondering and my worrying and find out for certain.

I could.

I don’t know if I will. I don’t know if I’m still ready to know, as crazy as the not knowing is driving me.

Maybe I will.

Maybe I won’t.

Chapter Twenty-Eight – Kyle

I slam my phone down on the sofa. Another call reaching voicemail. At this point I have to ask myself if the only reason I’m calling her is to hear her voice, like that means she’s okay.

“When did you last see her?”

“Ten days ago,” Ray answers. “She’d had a rough night so we let her leave work early on Saturday.”

“A rough night? How?”

“We broke up,” I offer quietly. Guiltily. Myra reaches forward and grasps my hand, squeezing my fingers with what little strength she has left.

Ten days and she’s finally accepted calling the cops is our only option, no matter what the outcome is.

“Okay.” The officer scribbles something on her pad. “And you say her brother died at the beginning of the year? Cameron?”

Myra nods.

“Ah, I remember that,” the other cop says, shaking his head. “Terrible crash.”

We’re all silent for a moment. Like we need him to tell us that.

“And you think her disappearing act is related to that?”

“Of course it is.” My sister walks through the front door. “Everyone knows that.”

“Iz,” I warn.

“And you are?” The officer raises his eyebrows in her direction.

“Her best friend and a psychology major, more than qualified to answer questions on her state of mind.”

“Iz!” I stand. “Go home.”

“My best friend is missing and you want me to go home?”

“Yeah. I’ll call you later. Please, Iz.”

She sighs heavily. “I came to get the café keys. I’ll open today.”

“On the side in the hall,” Ray tells her.

“Thanks.” She grabs the keys, glances at us all, and slams the door behind her.

I sit down and look at the cops. “I’m sorry about my sister. She’s worried about Roxy.”

“Its fine,” the older officer answers. “So to summarize, you kids broke up, she left work, then disappeared. And she definitely went of her own choice?”

“Yes,” Myra answers.

“The combination of those things, and her brother’s death, caused her to run, correct?”

Run.

“That’s correct.”

“Do you have any idea where she would hide?”

Hide.

“I know,” I say slowly. “I know where she is.”

Of course. There’s only place she’d go.

Our spot.

I push past the officers and run into the gorge like I’m possessed. Branches catch my shirt but I don’t care. I can’t believe I didn’t think of this straight away. I should have known.