Page 38 of Final Temptation (Alpine Peak #2)

I hadn’t been out this late since I used to bartend, not getting off work until the early hours of the morning. It was incredibly fun to catch up with Paige, dive more into wedding planning, and tell her about my and Myles’ relationship.

Her and Declan’s wedding was approaching fast. It felt like just yesterday they got engaged, and now in six months, we’d all be celebrating them.

Six months may sound like a ways away, but not in the wedding planning world.

Photographers and other vendors had the ability to get booked up quickly.

Especially in a small town where the number of vendors were limited.

Obviously returning home late for the night, we were able to get a ton of wedding duties checked off the list. Colors were chosen, flowers all picked out, and don’t get me started on the cake.

If it were up to me, I’d choose them all, each flavor melting in my mouth more than the next.

Ultimately, the decision was up to my best friend, and she chose two—chocolate and strawberry.

Opting for one that was more fitting to her and her husband to be.

I was still riding the high from my day spent with Myles, nothing daring to get in the way of the ecstasy running through my veins. Crawling into bed with him tonight was all I’d been looking forward to since the moment I left the warmth of his body to hang out with Paige earlier.

When I walked through the front door, my stomach dropped, a sinking feeling washing over me. Immediately taking away the fuzzy feeling I had just seconds ago.

Something didn’t feel right.

The TV was on, and the couch looked in disarray, but Myles was nowhere in sight.

“Myles?” I called from the living room, the tone in my voice coming out in a panic, my pace picking up as I went from room to room.

The living room window had a direct view of the parking lot. I tore back the white linen drapes, only to see that his Jeep wasn’t here.

I should have noticed he wasn’t here the moment I pulled up next to an empty spot.

The nagging feeling itched inside me, causing me to reach for my phone. After coming up short, unable to locate Myles anywhere, I pulled up our text thread.

After shooting off a text message to him, I second-guessed myself.

He has to be here.

He was never out at this time. The TV was on, indicating he was here; he had to be here.

I checked his bedroom, flinging the door open with no luck. His bed was empty, the covers looking the same as they did when we left his bed earlier.

He was supposed to meet me in bed—in my bedroom. Throwing the door open, I flipped on the switch, the room illuminating with no sight of him.

When the bathroom turned up empty, my heart sank, the nagging feeling refusing to leave. Checking my phone again, my hand wrapped around it, squeezing for dear life, willing him to text me back.

Those three dots appeared, and a whimper slipped from my lips.

He’s safe.

Myles: I’m so sorry, Sophie.

Tears instantly blurred my vision. What did he mean he was sorry? What could he be sorry for? If I was worried five minutes ago, I was petrified now.

Me: What’s going on? Where are you?

Myles: Declan was right. He always said that this typa shit was gonna catch up to me.

He was responding to me, but he wasn’t answering me. His avoidance dialed my concern up to another level.

Me: Myles, you aren’t making any sense. What’s catching up to you? Help me understand.

Myles: It should’ve been me, Soph. Should’ve been fucking me in that truck. Anthony didn’t deserve to die. I did. I did…

I stood in the middle of the living room, the television on in the background, muffling the sound of each cry escaping my mouth.

Any strength I had left in my body went limp, my knees falling to the ground with a loud thump.

The thought of Myles feeling so low, the desperation in his words, the idea of him being at rock fucking bottom, it broke my damn heart.

My heart was in the process of shattering every time I read his message over again.

I clutched my chest.

My heart was in pieces for him.

Me: No, Anthony didn’t deserve it. But you don’t either, Myles. I need you. Your brother needs you.

Myles: It hurts, Sophie. So bad.

I had no control over this situation. I didn’t have any idea where Myles was or how to help him. All I had were my words.

I was desperate for them to be enough.

Me: I know it hurts. I know this isn’t easy for you. Let me help you pick up the pieces, Myles. Please…tell me where you are. I can come get you.

If I had to guess, he relapsed. He was in so much pain; he needed to get out of here—in a hurry at that.

He was hurting so goddamn bad, he didn’t feel he could lean on me.

I had no idea what happened while I was gone for the evening, but a demon so bad he couldn’t take it anymore crept its way inside him.

I had a feeling this demon was his biggest one yet.

Me: Let me help take away your pain.

I shot off another text, anxiously waiting for that bubble to pop up, indicating he was typing.

Seconds went by, easily turning into minutes—no reply. When he didn’t respond, my heart sped up, the panic sinking deeper, my helpless legs stuck to the living room floor.

What the hell happened?

He was doing so good.

He opened up to me today, confiding in me just hours ago.

He took one hundred steps forward when he recounted his almost relapse and asked me to be his girlfriend.

What the fuck was making him fall back at the speed of light? And what battle was he fighting in his head that he couldn’t lean on me like he did earlier? What was stopping him from just letting me all the way in?

My vision was clouded with tears as I flipped through my contacts, my unsteady finger hovering over Paige’s name. I had to call her; I needed her help. Myles would hate me, but I’d never forgive myself if something happened to him.

He’ll never forgive me.

My thoughts pestered me.

I continued scrolling, landing on Myles’ name first. A photo I’d taken of him in our hotel room in Vegas filled up the screen, indicating the call was connected. The dial tone rang, and rang, and rang, the noise cracking my heart one ring at a time.

When he didn’t answer, I called again. And again. Repeating the process for what felt like an hour but was a torturously long ten minutes instead.

“Damnit, Myles!” I sobbed, throwing my phone on the couch from where I’d knelt down.

Where could he be? Where would he go? I never got to know the old version of Myles that well, but who he was today, I knew well. We spent day after day living together, confiding in each other, talking about his struggles and nightmares.

His nightmares.

My jaw dropped, a lightbulb going off in my head.

My legs found their strength again, the need to get to Myles growing.

I snagged my phone off the couch, grabbed my purse from the hook by the door, and went straight to my car. If he wasn’t where I thought he’d be, I’d call Paige. But the last thing I wanted to do was worry everyone before I could turn my speculations into answers.

Just days ago, I went to the site of the accident with Paige.

She tried to keep up with placing fresh white roses by a cross her family put up as often as she could.

Paige asked me to tag along, and since I’d never seen the spot where it all went down, it only seemed right to know that hidden part of my best friend.

Maybe Myles had gone back to where it all happened to help jog his memory or to grieve. Whatever his reasons were, if he was there, I had to confirm that he was okay.

Because it was late, the roads were practically empty, making the drive down the mountain's windy roads quicker than usual.

The drive was silent. I kept my music off, not chancing a missed phone call. Wiping the tears away, my sadness was replaced with determination. Now was not the time to be emotional and fearful. There was something much more important to accomplish: finding Myles and ensuring he was safe.

My hands gripped the steering wheel, the sweat building on my palms, increasing my anxiety as I got closer to the destination.

Automatically, my brights turned on as I entered an even darker, more windy part of the mountain roads. It felt like the Twilight Zone out here, with nothing in sight besides rows of pine trees lining the edges of the street and the night sky.

The narrow street began to straighten, taking away the curves threatening to make me puke. Ahead on the right, almost blending in with the darkness of the night, a black Jeep that looked just like Myles’ was pulled over with its lights off.

The pounding in my heart grew, thumping louder and louder as I approached his vehicle. Pulling up behind the Jeep, I kept my lights on so I could see, threw the car in park, and ran up to the driver’s side window.

“Myles.” His name slipped off my tongue.

I pulled against the handle, thanking God that his door was unlocked. Once I got a better look, I realized he was reclined in his seat, slumped over to the side.

“MYLES!” I shook his body, attempting to wake him up.

Right away, my eyes shifted to his passenger seat, noticing he had an empty bottle of booze and his phone face down.

Using the step that popped off the side of his Jeep, I hopped up, setting my weight on his lap, and shook him aggressively.

“Fuck, Myles. Wake up, please!” I cried.

The light gray shirt he wore clung to his body, completely soaked through with sweat, turning it a darker shade of gray.

With the back of my hand pressed against his face, his skin proved to be cold and clammy.

I tried not to weep as my cheek rested against his chest, only to find his breathing didn’t seem normal.

“Please, Myles. Please. Please. Please.” Each sob came out harder.

It only took me a second to observe the situation before I realized I didn’t have a choice; I needed to call for help.