Page 61 of The Malibu Secret

If I die here, at least Brinley will have Cameron and Willow. A real family. Maybe she'll forget me completely—hell, maybe that's better. No confusing "this is Willow, your new mom, but remember your real mom?" bullshit.

I squeeze my eyes shut and picture my baby girl running through Cam's Brentwood mansion—the one Celeste won't shut up about. All those uncles doting on her. Celeste not just playing auntie, but actually being Aunt Celeste by marriage. No more cramped house with me. No more mac and cheese three nights a week when money gets tight. No fucking chaos.

Who am I kidding? Somebody else might’ve wanted to pretend I never existed. Start fresh with Willow. Happens all the time.

But not Cam. He' s not that guy.

Never that guy...

Chapter Fifty-Two

CAMERON

I'm getting married at 7 PM tonight, but it's only 3 and I'm already noticing weird shit. Celeste keeps glancing at her phone like it might explode, her fingers twitching every time it buzzes. She's practically vibrating with tension. And what the hell is up with Max? He's doing the exact same thing—staring at his screen, shaking his head, then checking it again thirty seconds later like some kind of compulsive tic. Something's definitely up with those two.

My place has become wedding central. Limos idling out front soon, tuxedos hanging on every doorknob. Earlier, Celeste was in my guest bathroom with some lady wielding hot tools and another dabbing her face with brushes. Willow asked her to be a bridesmaid, but Celeste refused—Team Tally all the way—though she still agreed to get dolled up for photos. That was the plan, anyway. Now I watch her pacing my living room floor, obsessively checking her phone with shaking hands, half her hair curled and pinned up, half not, as if she'd abruptly made the stylist quit mid-session.

"Sharp, bro!" Silas says, elbowing my ribs as he passes. My bow tie's already knotted, cufflinks secured. The reception should be decent enough—some cover band cranking out The Cure, Depeche Mode, English Beat and Echo and the Bunnyman type music, premium open bar, fancy catering. I'm not dreading the ceremony itself, just everything after. Though maybe that's the answer—maybe once Willow and I say our vows and finally sleep together, something will click. Some magical connection will spark and I'll suddenly feel what I'm supposed to feel for the woman I'm marrying.

Stranger things have happened.

Celeste's face crumples like she's been slapped. She bolts through the French doors, her heels clicking sharply across the pool deck. Max charges after her, his jaw tight. Through the open window, I catch the scent of chlorine mixing with the late afternoon air as Celeste collapses onto a lounger, shoulders heaving as she sobs. Max crouches beside her, his hands steadying her trembling frame.

Celeste's mascara runs black down her cheeks. "I can’t go to this wedding," she says, her voice catching on the last word. "Not if she’s missing." She can't finish the sentence. Her fingers twist her wedding ring over and over again. "Max, you don't understand. Tally's like my sister. Yeah, she's got that mouth on her, but when I needed someone? There she was. Every time." She looks up, eyes red-rimmed. "I refuse to believe she's gone. I can't."

My stomach drops to my toes. Something terrible has happened.

I catch Max's eye. "Spill it. Now."

He avoids my gaze. "It's nothing, really."

"Cut the crap! Something's happening, and I want answers!"

"Cameron, you're about to walk down the aisle. Whatever it is can wait until after the ceremony."

My hands clench at my sides. "Max, I'm not asking. I'm telling you to come clean." I step closer, my voice dropping. "If you're hiding something that I could fix, and I don't get the chance because you kept quiet? I’ll never forgive you. Never."

Celeste stands up, mascara streaming down her face. “I just got a call from Marisa. Tally is MISSING!" she screams, her voice cracking. "Three days. THREE FUCKING DAYS! She was supposed to call her mom Wednesday night and every night thereafter. Nothing. NOTHING! Since I found out, I’ve called her phone fifty times. Her mother's called hundreds since Thursday morning. Voicemail. Always voicemail." She grabs my arm, fingernails digging into my skin. "She SWORE she'd check in every night from that campground."

Celeste's sob rips through the air like a wounded animal.

My blood turns to ice. Tally. Missing. The words hammer in my skull. Celeste said she went hiking alone in the Sierra Nevadas. Convict Canyon Trail. That death trap with thousand-foot drops that even experienced hikers avoid. And Tally—stubborn, fearless Tally—would've taken it as a challenge.

Reckless. Foolish.

MINE. Dear God, she's MINE.

Wednesday to Saturday. Seventy-two hours. My heart threatens to explode. My mind floods with images: her body broken at the bottom of a ravine, attacked by a mountain lion, kidnapped by some backwoods psychopath. NO. She has to be alive. She HAS to. She wouldn't leave her daughter motherless. She wouldn't do that to her mother.

She wouldn’t do that to me.

Before I know it, I'm sprinting to my bedroom, my heart hammering against my ribs. I tear at my bow tie, fingers trembling so badly I can barely work the buttons of my crisp white shirt. Sweat beads on my forehead as I wrestle out of the $10,000 bespoke Armani tux. Five frantic minutes later, I've traded wedding finery for worn jeans, scuffed hiking boots, and a thick cable-knit sweater the color of storm clouds.

Max appears in the doorway, his own tux still immaculate, face flushed with concern. "Cam, what are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" I snap, grabbing my keys from the nightstand. "I'm getting ready to drive up to Convict Canyon Trail and search every goddamn inch of it myself."

"Cam, you have 300 guests who are already filing into the Greystone Mansion as we speak," Max says, his voice rising. "The champagne is chilling, the five-tier cake is set up, the twelve-piece band is tuning their instruments, and Judge Reynolds is waiting. People have flown in from across three continents for this. You can't back out now! Anyhow, Tally's mom called Search and Rescue—professionals have spent the last 48 hours looking for her."