Vicky gives me a curious look. “About half hour ago.”
By the next beat of my racing heart, I’m out the door and in my truck. I don’t remember anything about the drive to Addie’s except praying I wasn’t too late.
I pound on her door, and when no one answers it a second later, out of sheer panic I try the knob. But the door pulls open at the same instant and I trip into the living room.
“Marcus,” Becky says, backing up so I don’t mow her down. “What are you doing here?”
“I…” I take a panicked glance around the room and find Bruce glaring at me from his recliner.
A second later, Addie appears at the opening to the hallway wrapped in a towel, her curls loose and dripping down her shoulders. She pulls up short when she sees me, and there’s a long minute where we just stare at each other.
Becky takes my elbow and nudges me fully into the room so she can close the door. “Is there something we can do for you, Marcus?”
I shake my gaze loose from Addie’s. “I just wanted to check that everything was okay.” I look at Addie. “Vicky said you quit.”
Bruce stands from his chair and steps in front of Addie. “My daughter is none of your business.”
“Why did you quit?” I ask Addie.
She steps out from behind her father and holds my gaze for what feels like forever, those gray eyes storming into mine. “Dad and I are leaving.”
“When?” I ask moving toward her.
“In the morning.” When my eyes fully focus on her face, I realize she looks pale. And scared.
I shift my gaze on her father. “Why are you doing this?”
“Why do you care?” Bruce says.
“Is it to get her away from me?” I push, not even caring that I’m putting everything out there. I can’t let Addie walk out of my life.
“That’s part of it,” he answers, his eyes flicking to Becky and back.
“I don’t see the rush here,” Becky says, stepping in between Bruce and me like a referee at a prize fight. “Why don’t you just wait for a week or two, then decide what the right move is.”
“I don’t see any point in waiting,” Bruce says.
Becky’s eyes move between me and Marcus, and something in them softens. “She’s developed relation-ships here.”
Bruce spins on Becky. “With her teacher.”
“He’s not her teacher, Bruce,” Becky chides.
“Same difference.” His eyes stay locked on Becky’s. “This isn’t your decision. You’re not her mother.”
“You don’t think I know that? Please, Bruce,” she says lower. “Don’t do this.”
Her voice is pure anguish and it suddenly occurs to me there’s more going on here than I know. This isn’t about me. Or even Addie.
“We can’t stay here.” His gaze cuts to me and hardens. “For a lot of reasons.”
My fists bunch at my sides and my knuckles pop. “You can’t take her.”
“Marcus, stop!” Addie’s voice is a raw wound. When my eyes find hers, they’re wide and pleading. “I’m going with Dad,” she says, softer. “We’re leaving.”
I glare at Bruce, but before I can say anything else, Becky has my arm and is towing me toward the door. “You need to go, Marcus,” she says softly. “This isn’t helping.”
I want to fight her, but I know ultimately, she’s right.
Addie’s eyes connect with mine as Becky manhandles me through the door onto the porch and I send her a look that says I’m not giving up. I hope she gets the message.
I wake up on the park bench, shivering and damp with dew. The horizon is pink with a new day. The day I’m going to lose Addie if I can’t find some way to stop it.
I have to stop it.
I rub the crust out of my eyes and peel myself off the bench, then sit here, thinking. My mind spins, the same as it did last night, without getting anywhere. If I fight this, Becky and Bruce have enough to send me to jail. I’d be useless to Addie there. But if I don’t fight this, she moves away.
As much as it kills me, our best chance is if I let her go.
I wait for the sun to fully rise before I stumble down the hill to my truck. I drive past Addie’s on my way home. When I see Bruce’s car is already gone, a cold fist of panic grips my heart and squeezes. But I shake it off and keep driving.
Because I am going to find her.
Chapter 24
Addie
It’s only been five months since I was at this school, but it feels like everything has changed. Not so much with the school—the teachers, the classroom, the students are all the same—but with me. I’m a different person than I was when I left here at the end of junior year. I was just starting to pull out of my depression then, just about the time we got evicted from our home by the police.