I worked on projects at school, volunteered for overtime at my day job, and visited Emy so much that even she, my best friend since the third grade, got a little sick of me. The last few days of conversation with her were devoid of any comfort for my broken heart, with Emy demanding I either talk to Logan like an adult or go out on a date with one of two guys she mistakenly thought were interested in me.
"Kyle only wants help prepping for the mid-term in finance!" Stopped in my car at a stoplight on my drive home, I glared at my cell phone for a second before putting it back up to my ear.
"He's just using it as an excuse to hang out with you," she responded, her voice deceptively sweet. "I live closer to him and I have a better grade in finance than you."
"It's the only class you're pulling a better grade." The light turned green and I charged across the intersection in my little car.
"Don't be petulant, sugar tits." Her chuckle and our favorite term of endearment for one another told me I hadn't completely ruined our friendship. "Kyle wants to bone you, so does Rick. You have ignored both of them while you moon over Logan. You can choose to be a grownup for real by talking to Logan, Kyle or Rick. Or you can admit you're a baby and sulk, but I'm not going to let you get away with ignoring reality."
We continued back and forth like that for another five minutes before I pulled into my parents' driveway.
"Shit," I hissed and turned the car off. "I have to go."
"Why? Is Logan there?"
"No." I suppressed a growl. I had told her a dozen times over that Logan had stopped trying to contact me. He was done trying to apologize or otherwise excuse his behavior for having used me as a temporary sex toy. "But my mom is standing with the front door open and looks like she's about to deliver a baby via her anus."
Emy snorted. "Picture or you're lying."
"You'll just have to believe me on this one, sugar tits." I snapped the phone shut and put the car in park. "Talk to you later."
Whatever had my mom upset, it brought her straight to the car door before I could open it. Seeing me hesitate, she pulled it open for me.
"Why haven't you answered your phone? I've been calling for at least half an hour!"
I swallowed, feeling guilty and hoping no one was hurt. I had heard the calls, far more than half an hour's worth. I had ignored them on the off chance Logan had resumed trying to reach me. "Sorry, I was on a call with someone at work. We were going over project details."
God, when had I become such a liar? Oh, yeah, the second I realized I had to protect my heart against any further damage. Forcing what I hoped was an apologetic smile onto my face, I started to get out of the car but her body blocked me from completely opening the door.
"Stevie must have been trying to call you, too."
"Did he call here?" I froze in place, only my stomach and heart in motion as they both lurched forward. Damn those Jones men! The mere thought that something might be wrong with Stevie launched me into an instant state of panic.
Mom nodded. "I think he was crying, but he only asked once if you were here and then he hung up. I tried to call back, but there was no answer."
"I'll go check." I fell back into my seat and shooed her away from the door. Hopefully Logan or Mrs. Jones hadn't changed the front lock. Hell, hopefully nothing was wrong at all.
Flipping my phone back open, I punched in the number for Logan's home. It was half past four. Stevie would be home from school, presumably with Mrs. Jones. Logan would be on base for at least a few more hours.
No answer.
I punched in the number for Logan's cell phone.
No answer.
Accelerating once I was away from the residential area, I tried the house number once more and prayed for someone to pick up the damn phone.
Nothing, nothing, nothing!
"Fuck!" I slammed my palm against my steering wheel. Why would Stevie call my house crying and refuse to leave a message?
Messages!
I swore again, abusing my steering wheel once more as I checked my voicemail for messages. Driving like a mad woman, I listened to the first new message.
"Lily, are you there?" Stevie's voice shook, pulling mercilessly at my chest like fishhooks in my flesh. "I had to walk home…no one is here…"
Shit, the bus cut-off was two miles, any child living within two miles of the school had to walk. Only two crossing guards — one when the kids left school, the second half a mile out where they had to cross a major road without a light. I didn't want to think about all the buildings he'd passed after that second guard, but there was at least one bar.
A second message from Stevie followed the first.
"I can't reach my dad. My mom-"
His voice broke and he hung up. I could guess well enough why — Mrs. Jones would have been responsible for picking Stevie up. I'd already had to witness her doing so twice since her return on the only two days mom needed me to drop Rhea off at ballet.
"Bitch, bitch, bitch," I growled as my car screeched to a stop half an inch from Logan's garage door.
I jumped from the car, heard the thunk of my door shutting as I raced to unlock the house. My skirt coiled around my knees as I ran, threatening to send me face first onto the cement walkway. Reaching the door, I jammed my key into the lock and twisted the handle. I barged inside, calling Stevie's name.
Absolute silence greeted me.
My pulse pounding through my body, I kept calling for him as I rushed through the front room, popped my head into the kitchen then headed down the hall toward his bedroom. I opened the door, saw his book bag on the floor, its contents spilled around it.
"Stevie! It's Lily. Answer me, damnit!"
A hundred horrible scenarios ran through my head. Had someone seen him enter the house alone? Had he answered the door? Already insane with worry, another possibility wrapped its cold hand around my spine and squeezed.
Logan kept a handgun in the house. He also kept it secured in a lock box, with a trigger lock for extra measure. Only two people had the key — or had once had the key. Logan was meticulous about keeping his key on him, but Mrs. Logan had proven herself irresponsible. When she had abandoned them eight months ago, she had left her key on the bedroom dresser.
What if she'd done something like that again and Stevie, scared to find himself home alone…
I couldn't finish the thought. I'd puke if I even tried to. Spinning on my heels, I took my first step toward Logan's bedroom when I heard a sniffle.
The sound came from behind me. I turned back to Stevie's bedroom, dropped to my knees and lifted his blanket up to look under the bed.
An empty space stared back at me.
Stepping to the closet, I threw the doors open to find my little bug with his face buried against his knees but appearing unharmed. Scooping him up, I wrapped Stevie in a tight hug that made the air come whooshing out of him.
"Why didn't you answer me, little man?"
He sniffled again, his slight frame shaking. I put him down on the bed, checking his exposed skin and the state of his clothing.
"Did you walk home alone?"
He shook his head. I half wanted to throttle him but sensed he was too scared to even talk.
Getting down on my knees in front of him, I gently grabbed his shoulders. "Tell me who walked with you."
"Tommy."
One word, two syllables, but it relaxed me. Tommy was two grades ahead but as gentle as a lamb. Better yet, he looked another grade older than he was, so the junior high students didn't give him any shit. He also lived half a block past Logan's place on the route home, so Stevie would have had company the entire trip.
I rubbed at Stevie's arm, hoping to calm him. "No one hurt you, did they?"
He shook his head.