Page 4

JD

T he sun cracked through my lids, burning red behind closed eyes. Dry mouth. Cotton tongue. Sand in my lashes.

But I didn’t care.

Because she was in my arms.

I could still feel her—warm, soft, pressed into me like she belonged there. The scent of her hair, the way her fingers curled in her sleep, the weight of her thigh draped across mine.

I smiled, tightening my grip.

Except it wasn’t her.

It was a damn blanket.

My hand groped the crumpled fabric, confusion clawing up my throat. My eyes blinked open, disoriented, and my heart kicked like a bronco in my chest. The blanket smelled like her—sun, vanilla, and whatever shampoo she used that always made my head spin—but she was gone.

“Skye?”

Silence.

“Red? Baby? ”

I sat up too fast. The blood rushed from my head, making everything tilt and swim. My boots were still off. Her bra was still lying half-tucked under the edge of the blanket. But she was gone.

My eyes scanned the scrub brush and the slope of the ridge we’d parked on.

No silhouette against the morning sun. No sound of her humming like she always did when she thought I couldn’t hear.

I scrambled up the hill.

The truck was gone.

“Skye!” I shouted into the vast emptiness, voice ragged. The only answer was wind and dust and the sharp sting of panic tearing through my gut.

She wouldn’t just… leave. Not without?—

Then I saw it.

Tucked under the thermos we never opened. A folded piece of notebook paper with my name scratched in ink.

I snatched it up. My name was the only thing on the outside.

Inside? A single paragraph that tore through me like a chainsaw.

“I love you more than the desert loves the sun, JD. That’s why I had to go. You were made for more, and I can’t be the one that drags you down. I’ll always carry you with me. Please don’t come looking. Go to Boston. You belong there.”

Bullshit.

Tears blurred my vision, rage crackling beneath my skin like lightning in a bottle.

I punched the hood of the nearest rusted fencepost so hard my knuckles split. Blood dripped into the dirt.

“This is your doing,” I growled, already grabbing my cell—except it was gone too. Of course it was. She took it .

By the time I got a ride back to town, I was seething. I stormed into the estate like a wildfire, fists clenched, voice thundering.

“What did you say to her?” I bellowed at my mother, at the smug sneer on my father’s face.

My mother blinked, caught off guard by the fury in my eyes. “What are you talking about, darling?”

“Don’t play innocent with me!” I roared. “You always hated her. Did you threaten her? Pay her off? Send someone to scare her? I swear—I’ll kill you both!”

“JD, no?—”

“She’s gone!” I slammed the letter on the glass coffee table. “Vanished. Took my truck, my phone, everything. And all I have left of her is this goddamn piece of paper and a blanket that still smells like her!”

My father stood, jaw tight. “No one in this family would stoop to that level. If the girl left, it’s because she knew what she was doing. Consider it a gift. You dodged a bullet.”

I lunged for him.

The only reason I didn’t knock his smug ass out cold was because my older brother, Cal stepped between us, holding me back with brute force.

“You come near her,” I snarled through clenched teeth, “and I swear to God, I’ll burn this whole legacy down.”

I hired every private investigator worth a damn. Wired the money that morning. I also made some calls and found some genius hackers who worked under the table. They tracked every highway camera, every gas station she could’ve stopped at, every transaction with my name or my truck.

Nothing.

No digital footprint. No paper trail. No sightings.

She was gone .

Like a ghost.

The only thing left behind was dust in my mouth and the dull ache of a ring-sized hollow where my heart used to be.

The desert sky turned to dusk and I still had no answers. My fists curled with rage. Red was out there but which way did she go?