When I Fall Page 73


I grip the back of a chair, leaning over it. My teeth clench. “What did he do to her?”

She stares at me for a long second, her eyes misting. “I think he was just very mean,” she explains quickly, wiping her fingers across her cheek to catch the fresh tears. “She said he never touched her, nothing like that, but I could tell, Reed. She said she never would’ve stayed with him if she had anywhere else to go. Why would she have said that if he was a good guy?”

I take in several slow, deep breaths, relaxing my grip on the chair before I split the wood.

Beth.

“A name,” I growl, pulling Hattie’s eyes back up to mine. “I need a name, and an address. Please tell me you know where this shit-head lives.”

Her shoulders drop. “I don’t have an address. His name is Rocco. That’s all I know. I don’t know his last name either. I’m sorry.” She pinches her lips into a thin line when the bottom one begins to tremble.

I tug the phone out of my pocket.

“Who are you calling?”

Sliding the chair out, I slump down, leaning forward onto my elbows. I hold the phone in one hand while the other cradles my head. My throat constricts. I feel dizzy, sick with blame, with a number of other emotions I’ve rarely ever felt. Some entirely foreign to me.

Rage.

Fear.

Loss.

Love.

I press the phone to my ear as a chair moves along the floor behind me. Hattie’s taken her seat. The call connects after the second ring.

“What’s up?”

“I need you to find someone for me. I need an address, and it can’t fucking wait, okay? Can you help me?”

“Hol-Hold on. Hey, turn that down a minute,” Ben says away from the phone. The police scanner quiets. “What the hell is going on?”

“Who is that?” I recognize Luke’s quick to annoy tone.

“It’s Beth. She’s gone. She went back to Louisville, to this guy. I need to go get her. I need to bring her back. She can’t be with him. I need . . .”

“Whoa, slow down,” Ben interrupts. “What about Beth?”

Swallowing, I cringe when I taste bile. I take in a shaky breath, blinking the room into focus.

“She left. It’s my fault.”

I try to speak slowly, to let the words settle in the air, but the longer they linger on my tongue, the sicker I feel.

I want them out. I want Beth back. I need to tell her so many things.

“I love you . . . I love you.”

God, I was a fucking coward.

I stand and resume pacing. “She went back to this guy she lived with before she moved here. I need to find her, Ben. You need to fucking help me find her. This guy . . . he’s mean to her. To my Beth, he’s fucking mean to her, and I am losing it, okay? I have a first name. I know she’s in Louisville. Please. I don’t ask you for shit. I need this. Can you just . . .”

“Reed, fuck, man, calm down.”

“I can’t calm down! I love her! Can you help me or not?”

Hattie gasps from her seat.

I advance to the island and flatten my palm against the cold marble. My head hanging heavy between my shoulders. My legs threatening to give out.

“What’s his name?” Luke’s voice cuts through the line, a bit distant. I realize I’ve been put on speaker phone. Fingers tap hurriedly on a keyboard.

I sag against the corner of the island. “Rocco. I don’t have a last name.”

“Rocco? The fuck kind of a name is that? He sounds like a little bitch.”

Luke’s remark is fucking spot-on.

“I doubt there’s a lot of Rocco’s in Kentucky. Should help narrow the search. Where are you?” Ben asks.

“Beth’s aunt and uncle’s house. Where she was staying.”

“Right . . . yeah, I know where that is. Mia mentioned how close Beth lived to us. What’s the house number?”

“12,” I blurt out, then question. “Why?”

“We’ll pick you up. Be there in twenty.”

“What? What do you mean you’ll pick me up? Give me the address so I can get the hell out of here.”

“And do what? Drive up there and beat the shit out of this guy for hurting Beth? Did you consider what might happen if he isn’t so willing to let her go? You don’t know anything about this guy. He could have fucking weapons in his house, Reed. What if he pulls a gun on you?”

“Don’t be fucking stupid. We’re going with you. We’re getting ready to end our shift anyway,” Luke adds.

I pinch my eyes shut. Fuck, I hadn’t thought about how this could play out. Weapons? Could this asshole actually be dangerous?

Images of Beth cowering, scared and sad filter through my mind.

I’ll kill him.

“Fine, whatever. Hurry up.”

I disconnect the call, shoving my phone away.

“Reed?” Hattie’s kind voice lifts my head. Our eyes meet across the room. “Bring her back. She loves you.”

I wait for Ben and Luke by the front door, wiping the wetness from my eyes.

 

EIGHT HOURS, TWO STATE LINES, and the impending obstacle of traffic stand between me and Beth.

The guys show up after ditching their patrol car, but staying in uniform. Ben insists on driving his truck, keeping his speed close to one hundred miles per hour for the bulk of the trip. I realize quickly how grateful I am to have them with me. If I had made this journey alone, I would’ve either gotten pulled over for speeding, or road rage. Most likely both. We’re making great time, but I’m ready to crawl out of my skin. My stomach has twisted into an unforgiving knot. My leg won’t stop bouncing restlessly against the seat.

“How you doing back there?”

“Mm. Fine,” I answer Ben, or Luke, was it? My head shakes against my hand. Definitely not fine. I look up front. “I’ve never thrown a punch before. Ever, but I might actually kill this guy. There’s a good chance I’ll see him with Beth and lose my fucking mind. If that happens, am I looking at jail time?”

Wouldn’t that be the perfect end to this nightmare. Telling Beth I love her behind a glass partition.

Luke turns his head. “You’re not going to kill him. We’ll let you hit him a little, but unless we see him doing shit to Beth, hurting her in some way or threatening us, there’s not much we can do. We can’t arrest him for being mean to her.”

“He might not even be home. Most people work until five, six o’clock. If it’s just Beth there, do you really want to stick around and wait for this prick to come home just so you can punch him?”

I glare at the rear-view mirror, meeting Ben’s eyes.

Asshole. Like you wouldn’t camp out on someone’s lawn for a month if they looked at Mia wrong.

His gaze trains on the road. “Fair enough.”

“If he has weapons and shit, that’s different though. And we can make it pretty fucking clear that he needs to stay the hell away from Beth. You can drive that point home.” Luke leans closer to the GPS. “We’re close. Ten miles.”

Ten miles. God, I can practically feel the warmth of Beth’s skin.

“How do I,” I clear my throat. My hand skims down my neck, tugs at my collar. Fuck, I’m burning up.

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