My heart hammered in my chest as I tried to process her words.
Blake Vaughn.
Blake the big time dealer.
I rushed through the hospital doors and ran out into the parking lot, only to realize that I didn’t have my truck. Fuck. I was helpless. It was at least two miles from the hospital to Lilah’s house. I shouted at Ashley to text me Blake’s address, pocketed my phone, and took off in a dead sprint.
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chase
Those two miles were endless. My feet pounded the pavement, my heart hammered in my chest, my breath echoed in my ears, and my legs stung with exhaustion. I rounded the corner to Lilah’s house and saw Mr. Calloway's car sitting in the driveway. Harvey barked behind the front door, but I didn't have a minute to spare. I hopped in my truck, slammed the door, and gunned it out of the driveway.
I plugged Blake's address into my phone as I sped away from downtown. During the drive I tried to calm my racing heart by repeating the same phrase over and over. She’s okay. She’s okay. I shoved my hand through my hair, tugging the ends, and trying to figure out how shit could hit the fan so quickly and completely.
The map lead me down a road with tire tracks leading through mud. I pushed my foot down on the gas and passed a grouping of trees. Heavy bass was the first clue that I was getting closer to the party and then I finally saw a doublewide trailer surrounded by cars. My eyes locked onto Trent's silver Camry and my hands squeezed the steering wheel so hard I thought I’d rip it right out of the dashboard.
I swung my truck behind the parked cars and hopped out into the mud. I couldn't think beyond getting inside and finding Lilah. I didn't bother knocking on the cheap door. I pushed it open with my shoulder and broke it off one of the hinges.
The smell of marijuana and cigarette smoke mingled in the air as my eyes darted around the small space, trying to find Lilah’s short black hair. There was a group of guys sitting on the couch, too high to care what was going on around them. I looked past them, into the kitchen, to find Ashley shouting at a guy that I vaguely recognized. Blake. I charged forward just as Ashley tried to get past him. He wrapped his hand around her arm and pushed her back against the counter. She yelped as his grip tightened around her arm.
“What the hell are you doing?” I yelled, throwing myself between them. Blake hadn't noticed me until that moment. His eyes widened and then narrowed accusingly as he dropped Ashley’s arm.
“Who let you in? This is a private party, asshole,” Blake spat out, stepping closer and sizing me up. I was smack-dab in the middle of the hardest day of my life. I could have easily taken my anger out on his face.
“Chase, get Lilah!” Ashley said, tugging on the back of my shirt to get my attention.
I shoved past Blake in pursuit of the closed door at the end of the hallway. He shouted after me, but I didn't listen. I could see light streaming through the bottom, but when I tried the knob, it was locked. I reared back and threw myself against the door. It sprang open and I stumbled inside the room, catching my momentum as Trent jumped from the bed.
“Bro, this isn’t what you think,” he said, holding his hands up in innocence.
His words meant nothing; I was already in a blind rage as I caught sight of Lilah flat on the bed. Her head was lolled to the side. Her short black hair covered half of her face. Her eyes were closed, her cheeks were pale, and her clothes were still on.
“I was trying to take care of her,” he offered lamely.
I rounded the bed and leaned over to check her breathing. Her breaths were shallow and slow. I was about to scoop her up into my arms when Trent's movement caught my attention.
He was trying to leave.
Maybe on a better day, I would have let him go. Maybe on a better day, he could have escaped. But it wasn’t a better day.
I reached for the back of his shirt and threw him against the wall of the trailer. His head hit the cheap wood paneling and a few shelves clattered to the floor along with all of the cheap shit piled on top of them. I didn't give him time to recover; I walked over and pulled him up off the ground with the collar of his shirt.
“Do you think this is fucking game? Do you think you can play with people’s lives like this?” I asked, fighting my grip around his throat.
His gaze darted back and forth between my eyes. His hands scraped at my fist, but I was working off too much adrenaline and rage to notice the sting.
“Listen, man,” he pleaded. “We were just having fun. I didn't know she...” His voice was starting to crack. He had been about to rape my girlfriend and he thought he deserved pity. I tightened my grip around his neck and his eyes widened in fear. I couldn’t see past my anger. Red rage clouded my vision as Trent struggled for air.