Page 136 of Rescued
I shake my head. “I’m gonna go check outside.”
Arlo’s face goes white, but he nods. I put my shoes on, not even bothering to tie them, and slip out the front door.
I don’t have as much property as some people, but my house is still surrounded by cornfields and trees. Hopefully he just decided to take a walk or something.
There aren’t any tracks that I can see, but I take off for the treeline in the backyard. “Salem!” I pause, not wanting my shoes to make too much noise in case he’s hurt and trying to call for me. “Salem,” I try again. “Are you out here? Hello?”
I stand frozen as the wind blows through the trees.
Arlo’s frantic voice as he yells my name makes me nearly jump out of my skin. Something about the alarm in his tone has my hair standing on end, and I take off back toward the house in a full sprint.
“Baby boy,” I call out, getting closer as he stands right outside the front door, sobbing. “Hey, hey.”
“He’s gone. He wasn’t—I don’t think he… There’s no—”
I cup his face, tilting his head back until he has no choice but to lock eyes with me. “Breathe.”
He inhales a sharp breath, his body trembling. “He’s not here. He didn’t stay here last night.”
My brows draw together. “What do you mean?”
“I’ll show you.”
He knocks my hands away from his face and turns around, running back into the house. I follow him all the way into Salem’s room.
“Look. There.” He points to the bed. I don’t see anything out of the ordinary. It’s made, but I’ve noticed that Salem always makes his bed. It’s nothing new.
“I’m not seeing what you mean, baby boy.”
“Fuck,” he growls. “Right there.” He points at the corner of the bedspread. “It was like this last night. Folded just like this. I noticed it while we were arguing and… and—” His voice cuts off on a harsh sob. “He wasn’t here last night. And if he was, he didn’t sleep in his bed. And look.” Arlo holds up Salem’s phone. “It was on his dresser.”
Goddammit. “Okay. Alright.” I glance around the room. Fuck, I’m really bad in a crisis when the crisis involves my family. I know who’s not, though. Pulling my phone from my back pocket, I dial Austin.
He answers almost immediately. “Hey, we’re about to pull in.”
“Salem’s missing.”
There’s silence, and then, “What do you mean, missing?”
I glance around the room, my heart rate climbing as I grip the phone tighter. “Gone. Missing. I don’t really know how else to say it.”
“We’re pulling in. Hang on.”
The phone clicks as Austin hangs up. Arlo is pacing, dragging his hands through his hair, so I grab him and pull him in for a hug. “Breathe, baby boy. He’s gotta be close.”
He shakes his head. “He doesn’t know anyone. He doesn’t have anywhere to go. This is all my fault.” He jerks away from me, tears streaming down his face. “This is all my fucking fault.”
“It’s not,” I whisper, trying to pull him back to me.
“It is.” Arlo resumes his pacing. “I don’t know what to do.”
Me neither, if I’m being totally honest. Where could he have even gone? “He’s probably just out in the woods somewhere. He couldn’t have gone far.”
I have to believe that. I have to.
“I told him I couldn’t do this. I—I didn’t mean it. What if he believes I mean it?”
Before I can answer, Austin pushes the door open to the bedroom and steps inside. His brows are drawn together, his mouth set in a straight line. “How long has he been gone?”
