Page 27 of That Last Secret

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Page 27 of That Last Secret

They both laugh as we part ways, and I fire off a text to Silas.

Want to hit up Callahan’s for some birthday drinks in twenty minutes?

Silas

I’m in.

Once I reach my bike outside, my phone buzzes in my pocket. Taking it out, I notice Emiline’s name. I can’t remember a single time she’s ever called me before. We’ve had each other’s numbers for a while now, but only because of a large group chat the girls started a few months ago.

I’ll never understand what it is with girls and group chats.

“Hello?” I answer.

“Hey, Logan.” Her voice is so soft in my ear. “Are you still with my brothers by chance?”

“No. They left about five minutes ago. What’s up?”

There’s a brief pause on the other end before I hear her whisper, “shit,” under her breath.

“Is everything okay?”

Another pause. “No, but I’ll figure it out,” Emiline says quickly before hanging up the phone.

I don’t know what this feeling is that builds so fast inside of me, but the sense of panic takes over. What if something is wrong with her? Thomas and Marc’s cell phones are dead, and Oliver is still out of town.

I decide to call her back, but she doesn’t answer this time.

“Fuck,” I hiss under my breath.

Answer your phone.

Emiline

It’s okay. I’m fine. I’m good.

I may not be an expert, but when a woman says she’s fine, she’s not.

My phone buzzes with an incoming call from her, and I answer immediately. “Where are you?”

She sighs on the other end. “I’m at the library. But like I said, I’m fine. I just…”

I wait for her to respond, but her voice trails off.

“What’s going on?” I ask, trying to keep my voice calm when everything inside me screams for her to tell me what’s happening.

“It’s stupid, and you wouldn’t understand. I just wanted to see if my brothers were around to take me home.”

“You don’t have your car with you?” I ask, my anger subsiding with how worried she sounds.

“I don’t have a car. I walked here.”

I suddenly find myself ready to beeline to wherever she is because there’s no way she’s walking home this late at nightorcatching a taxi with a stranger driving her. I’ve witnessed too much shit for that to be a safe option for her in my head.

If anything happened to her, I’d never forgive myself.

“Send me your location. I’m on my way,” I say before I hang up on her.

I strap on my helmet and swing my leg over to straddle my bike. Once settled in my seat, I pull my phone out of my pocket to place it on the dock I have set up between my handlebars. When I turn the key, the engine roars to life, and as soon as I do so, her location comes through on my phone.




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