Page 42

Chapter Thirty-One

I ’m staring out the window of my rehab room, watching a chipmunk drag a half-eaten granola bar across the courtyard, when I hear a soft knock on the door.

"Come in," I call out.

The door creaks open and the corners of my mouth pull into a smile. Avery steps inside, her hair twisted into a messy bun, her face bare, but beautiful as ever. She looks tired, like sleep didn’t come easy last night. I can understand why.

Sebastian called me late and said Drake still hadn’t checked in.

If they didn’t hear from him by morning, they’ll be organizing a search.

He filled me in on a few things happening and I am finally starting to piece together what it truly means to be part of the Ice Lords.

I miss it, and the guys, and I can’t wait to get the fuck out of here.

"Morning," Avery says, holding up two coffees like peace offerings.

I shift upright, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. "You trying to seduce me with caffeine?"

A laugh slips from her lips. "If that’s all it takes, you’re way too easy."

"Guilty." I grin, reaching for the cup. "But only if it has extra creamer."

She hands it over and I take a sip. My lip curls. "Mmm. Tastes like you’re getting lucky."

Avery laughs, giving my shoulder a playful slap, as she sits down beside me. Her knee bumps mine, and for a second, the tension in my chest eases.

Even with everything hanging over our heads, Avery has this way of making it all feel almost normal. I still can't remember everything, but I remember how I felt and it's enough to know I'm not giving up on this.

"How are you holding up?" I ask gently.

She shrugs, holding her cup an inch from her face as she blows on it. "Honestly, nothing even fazes me anymore. I hope to God Drake is safe, but I think I've gone numb to chaos at this point."

I reach over, resting my hand on her thigh, my thumb grazing the fabric of her legging in a slow, grounding motion. "I get it. It's a lot."

"Too much," she says quietly as she takes a small sip.

Reaching out, I cup her cheek in my hand and for a second our eyes lock, then I slowly lean in, pressing my mouth to hers.

She melts into the kiss and I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss this—her, us.

When we part, she's smiling, and fuck if that doesn't do things to me. I shift in my shorts, feeling my want for her threatening to bust through the fabric. It's been so damn long and I'm starving for the day we can be together again.

"You look good,'' she says, swiping a piece of hair from my forehead. "You look stronger."

"Tomorrow," I say, tapping my fingers against her thigh, "I'm getting the hell outta this place."

Her eyes widen. "Seriously?"

"Yep. My doc signed off on it this morning. Of course, I'll still have physical therapy, follow-up appointments, and restrictions, but I get to go home."

"That's amazing, Callan. I'm thrilled for you."

It's hard to miss the shift in her body language and I can tell something's eating at her. Pictures of her in my bed come to mind and I suddenly realize what she is thinking.

"I guess that means I should probably vacate your room and go back to my dorm."

There it is.

I grab her hand, lacing our fingers. "Don't go."

She blinks. "Don't go?"

"I'm taking one of the downstairs bedrooms for a while anyways. There is no way I'm fucking with stairs right now. So my room is yours as long as you need it. Besides, I sort of like the idea of you being nearby."

Her shoulders roll, features twisted. "I don't know, Callan. It's your room and I'm sure you're ready to have it back. Besides, this situation with Sebastian?—"

"You feel safer there, right?"

Sebastian told me she does and so did Brogan. Despite my stepsister not wanting to talk about Avery because I had one bad reaction, she found a way to bring her up without setting me off. She's the one who helped me remember her at some of my games when they were cheering for me.

Avery nods slowly. "Yeah. I do."

"Then don't leave yet. And as far as this thing with Sebastian, we'll figure out. There's no rush. And if we're being honest," I add. "I just got you back. I'm not ready to let go of you just yet."

"Okay," she says quietly. "I'll stay a little longer."

And just like that, something in my chest clicks back in place.

Not a memory, at least, I don't think that's what it is.

It's more like a recognition. Having her near is just the beginning of everything I want back. I always wanted her, even if I tried to deny it in the past. Now I have a chance to really be with her, and I’m not letting it go.

Avery's phone buzzes in her purse, shattering the quiet ease between us. She reaches into the front pocket and pulls it out, her face tightening as she looks at the screen.

"It’s Sebastian," she says. "The team just got back to the house and they’re organizing a search party for Drake."

Avery stands up fast, her coffee sloshing all over her hand. "Sebastian just said the camera footage from the businesses near the van’s location has been wiped clean."

My stomach knots. "Shit."

"I need to go help," she says, panicked.

The instinct to jump in—to do anything—kicks in and I go to stand, but my legs aren't strong enough to hold my full weight just yet.

Avery is quick to come to my side. "We've got this," she assures me.

"I just wish there was something I could do."

She reaches in and puts both hands on my cheeks before kissing me. It's not rushed, or casual—it's just enough to anchor me. "Just take care of yourself and get better," she says firmly. "That's all you need to worry about right now."

I pull her in for one last kiss and she reciprocates, leaning into me until we break apart and our foreheads press together. "I’ll be at the house when you get home."

She presses her lips to my cheek, burning need filling me. Need for her, for my life to get back to normal. But when she steps away, I know I can’t have any of that until I can get my body to listen to me.

With that, she turns and she's out the door.

Fuck. I sit there, staring at the empty space she just left, feeling helpless. I glance down at my uncooperative legs and all I feel is rage. I don’t have the luxury of time. I can’t just lie here while the walls close in on everyone I care about.

I reach for my walker and grip it hard, then I push to my feet, jaw tight as I step into the hallway.

If I can’t fight whatever’s out there yet, at least I can start getting stronger. I walk, then I walk some more.

By the time I finally stop to catch my breath, I’ve done six full laps around the wing. Sweat clings to my back and my legs are trembling, but I’ve never felt more determined.

I lean against a wall, steadying myself when someone catches my eye at the end of the hall.

It's Liam, Evan's brother. I don't like that guy, but it's hard not to feel for him with what he's going through.

I've heard a little about Evan's accident. Apparently, he fell off Black Peak a little over a month ago. But from what I've also heard, no one knows how or why yet. And I have a bad feeling that after that video and the way my boys have been panicking, I played a part in whatever took place.

I watch Liam, noticing how he walks with purpose, his eyes fixed ahead and his shoulders squared. Something about his energy doesn’t sit right.

He disappears into Evan’s room, and curiosity gets the best of me. With nothing better to do, I push off the wall and follow.

When I reach the corner, I pause and peek around it just in time to see Liam place something on Evan’s bedside table. Then, without a word, he walks out.

I duck back and wait for him to pass before moving to Evan's door. It's open a crack, so I peer through the gap.

When I look inside, I notice Evan sitting upright, wide-eyed and alert.

What the fuck!

That's not right. Evan's mind is supposed to be paralyzed or some shit, but from what I'm seeing, he's fully there.

I watch as he picks up the folded paper Liam left behind. He stares at it for a second before unfolding it. His expression darkens then he crumples it, and with a sharp flick of his wrist, he hurls it across the room.

"Fuck," he growls.

My pulse spikes and my brain can’t keep up with what I'm seeing. Has he been pretending this entire time?

The air gets sucked out of my lungs, and suddenly, I’m hit with a jolt, like an old memory is colliding with reality.

A flash rips through my head.

I see Evan near the ledge of a cliff, his foot slips and someone reaches for him, but it's too late—he falls.

I clutch the walker tighter, trying to make sense of what I just remembered.

What the hell was that?

More importantly, now I know I was there the night Evan fell.

After I went back to my room, all I could think about was Evan being awake and aware. If only I could remember more then maybe I’d be able to make sense of this.

I still haven’t told the guys. They’ve been tied up with the search for Drake, and this definitely isn't a conversation that can be had over the phone. If Evan’s fall is tied to the Ice Lords, we can’t risk anyone overhearing.

Now, it’s just past two a.m. and sleep isn’t in the cards. So here I am, restless and pacing the halls again. I stop in front of Evan’s room, the door latched shut this time. But curiosity eats at me.

That note must have said something important to piss him off the way it did.

I grip the handle and twist it slowly, careful not to make a sound. I ease the door open an inch at a time and look inside, noticing the room is still. If I didn’t know better, I’d think Evan was in a coma again.

Stepping inside, my heart pounds as I look around for the crumpled paper. With the only source of light being the moon shining through the curtains, it's slightly difficult.

I search his bedside table, scan the floor, and even look in the trash bin, but it's not here.

I move closer to the bed, looking around the space near Evan. Everything looks normal at first glance, but then I notice a towel sticking out slightly from the corner of the blanket.

Carefully, I lift the edge of the blanket and peel it back a tad. My gut tightens as I pull back more and more, and as it falls away completely, realization hits.

Evan’s not in the bed. It's nothing but a bunch of rolled-up towels.

I rip the rest of the blanket off in one angry motion. "That sneaky son of a bitch."

He clearly wanted everyone to believe he was in here sleeping. But I’m onto him now.

For a second, I think about leaving him a note of my own—something to let him know the jig is up. But then we'd lose the upper hand.

No . Evan can’t know I know. At least, not yet. If he’s out there wreaking havoc on the lives of my friends, the only shot we have at stopping him is to corner him. But first, the guys need to know, and this can’t wait until I see them in person.

I rush back to my room, adrenaline surging as I grab my phone off the nightstand. My fingers fly across the screen as I type out a group text to Aidric, Sebastian, and Avery:

Me: Evan Sanders is a fraud! Not only is he awake and aware, he snuck out of his bed tonight. Keep an eye on things. He might be lurking.

I hit send and stare at the screen, fully aware that I might not get a response until morning, but I had to try. If Evan is the one behind my accident, Julian's death, and Drake's disappearance, we might not have much time left to stop him before he claims his next victim.