Page 113 of Striking Range

“Come in,” he commands, nodding toward the interior of the house as he walks away, leaving the door open.

I send one last wistful glance toward Kelly’s car and head inside.

It’s a beautiful house, but unlike mine, it doesn’t feel like a home. It looks as if no one lives here, and Ash is a realtor showing me a model for purchase.

Following Ash toward what looks to be a living room, I watch as he sits on the couch with perfect posture.

“Hello, Mr. Carmichael,” I greet politely. “I’m looking for Everett. I haven’t seen him in a day.”

He does not reply, but stares at me long and hard. I tuck my trembling hands into the pockets of my jeans.

“Have you heard from him?” I add.

“Heard from who?” a feminine voice asks, and Felicita, Everett’s adoptive mom, comes strutting in.

She sits next to her husband, sending me disgusted glares every few seconds. What the fuck is their problem?

“From Everett,” Ash finally says.

“Oh. No, we haven’t. Not since he left yesterday,” she answers dismissively.

“Left?” I repeat. “Left to go where exactly?”

Ash clears his throat. “He asked us not to tell you.”

“He… asked you not to tell me?” I sound like a broken record, mimicking their every word. But this is all going over my head, and something feels very wrong.

“Yes. He said that he was leaving and wanted you to leave him alone.”

Now I know for sure that this is a lie. Everett would never ask someone to send me away, for me to leave him be. Even before our romantic affair, he wouldn’t even sleep on the couch, cuddling up to me on the bed instead.

“Right,” I reply, studying their distant expressions.

I know that now is my cue to leave—that they likely won’t give me much else. But this entire situation is too odd, and I have to find him.

“Unfortunately,” I continue calmly, “I don’t believe you. If you don’t tell me where he is, I’ll have no choice but to contact the police.”

Ash slides a hand over his perfectly gelled black hair, his gaze turning into something nasty and hateful. “I’m not sure what my son has told you, but you have no right to question me.”

“So you admit that there is something to tell?” I counter. “That something is being hidden?”

“Get out,” Felicita commands, pointing toward the front door.

“I will not. Not until you tell me where he—”

“Enough!” Ash shouts. “You ruined my son! I will not stand here and listen to this attitude of yours. Everett was tired of your influence and deemed it fit to leave you behind. That’s that.”

Deemed it fit to leave me behind…

I don’t care if this makes me a narcissist or a monster, but I know with everything in me that he wouldn’t do that. I can feel him tugging at the end of this cord that connects us, and he’s saying that he misses me.

“Whatever you did to him, I will find out. I will help him,” I declare, and Ash stands to his full height, towering over me.

“You will get the fuck out of my home, is what you will do. Now.”

Something is screaming within me. A voice is shouting to be heard, begging me to stay right here and fight. But how? With what proof?

Could I… could I find some?