Page 180 of Scarred

No.

She isn’t Jules.

This won’t happen again.

I grind my teeth together so hard it hurts as I burst into the parking garage and run to my SUV, knowing it can handle this weather better.

Slamming into gear, the tires squeal on the pavement as I shoot out into the street. The rain is coming down so hard that I can barely see two feet in front of me.

My knuckles are white against the steering wheel as I peer ahead into the blackness with only the brief flash of lightning to show the road ahead.

It feels like hours before I finally see the welcome sign to Crystal Isle. Because it’s on the way, I head to her studio first as I make a turn into the downtown area.

The streets are bare and covered in inches of rain in some areas, where flooding is already taking place.

When I see the Moonrise Dance Studio sign, I pull up front, not bothering to turn off my engine as I hop out and bang on the door. The lights are out, but she sometimes works late in her back office, and I want to make sure she’s not here before I leave.

I run alongside and check the parking, seeing no signs of her Jeep before I climb back into my vehicle. I’m drenched to the bone, but don’t even feel the chills of the a/c on my wet skin.

Taking a side street, I head through town toward her apartment building. One thought fills me with dread as it runs through my mind the closer I get to her place.

If she’s at home, why isn’t she charging her phone?

I try her number again and slam my phone down on the seat when I get nothing but voicemail.

Seeing her building up ahead, I pull in and park, barely remembering to turn off the engine before I’m flying up the stairs.

Pounding on her door, I wait for her to answer, but all I get is the hammering of the rain on the roof above as the lightning illuminates the walkway.

Where the fuck is she?

An ambulance wails in the background, its siren getting closer. The sound seizes up my chest as I shiver through my wet clothes, even though the air is humid and hot.

This can’t be happening again.

It can’t.

I refuse to believe that I’ve lost her, too.

Reaching into my pocket to call Noah, hoping he can tell me where she is—that this isn’t some sick joke that’s being played on me right now—I remember I left it on my front seat.

I’m about to reach my SUV when headlights shine through the pouring rain. My eyes squint at the brightness as I shield my eyes to try to make out the vehicle.

“Cayden?” I hear Luna’s voice, and my knees go weak from the sound. A figure appears in the rain, and I can barely make out the shape of her.

“Luna?” I jog toward her and crash my body into hers as I hold her tight against me. “Jesus Christ,” I choke. “You’re okay.” I pull her back to see her, wanting to make sure she’s real and this isn’t some twisted figment of my imagination.

I brush back her soaking wet hair and see the green eyes that I’ve missed so much.

“I was at the dance studio late and didn’t feel like coming home right away, so I went to the beach.”

“The beach? What were you doing at the beach in the middle of this storm?”

“I…I didn’t get out of my car. I went to my favorite place, the one we took Scarlett to. I just…I wanted to be there. I wanted to be close to you,” she whispers.

She was out in this storm because of me.

The thought that she could have gotten hurt because of me is like a knife to the heart.