Page 70 of Timid (Lark Cove 2)

“What’s going on? Is she okay? Is it Charlie?”

“Charlie’s fine. Thea went for a walk and we can’t get ahold of her. I guess there’s some shit going on with somebody emailing her threats. I don’t fucking know. But Hazel called worried and Thea’s not answering her phone. Now the cops are out looking for her.”

“What?” I gasped, slapping a hand over my pounding heart.

“Let’s go, guys. You gotta get out of here.” Jackson’s voice was muffled as he stifled the protests. He must be kicking people out of the bar.

I waited for him to come back on the line, sliding on my flip-flops that I’d kicked off earlier.

“I’ll call you later, babe. I’m trying to get this place closed so I can go help find Thea.” The fear in his voice terrified me. He’d never sounded scared before.

“I’ll come help.”

“No,” he snapped as more beer bottles crashed. “Stay home.”

“Jac—”

The phone went dead. When I pulled it away from my ear, Dad had paused the movie and both he and Mom were looking at me with worried eyes.

“I need to go.” I shot off the couch. “Something is happening with Thea, and Jackson is really worried. Someone has been threatening her and the cops are searching for her. I couldn’t really understand, but I should be there for him.”

“Okay, honey.” Dad stood too, following me down the hall and to the front door. “Let me walk you to the bar.”

I nodded, glad for his company. As he slid on his loafers, I stepped outside and looked up and down our street for any sign of Thea.

“Lock this, Betty,” Dad told Mom.

“I will.” She waited for him to join me on the sidewalk, then shut the door.

The walk to the bar was more of a sprint with Dad hot on my heels. I went right inside, passing two guys on their way out, with just enough time to see Jackson grabbing his keys from next to the cash register.

“Hey.”

He whipped around with an angry scowl. “What the fuck, Willa? I told you to stay home. You shouldn’t be out walking around by yourself.”

I pointed over my shoulder just as Dad came inside.

“Nate.” Jackson’s anger deflated. “Thanks for walking her down.”

“You bet.” Dad placed his hand on my shoulder. “I’m going to get back to your mom. Let me know if we can do anything.”

“Okay. Thanks, Dad.”

He kissed my cheek, then nodded good-bye to Jackson.

I unglued my feet from the door and hurried behind the bar, sliding my arms around Jackson’s waist.

He wrapped me up tight. “Sorry for snapping. I’m just worried.”

“It’s okay. What can I do?”

“Lock the front door.” He let me go and handed me his keys. “I need to put some food in the fridge, then we can go.”

As he disappeared into the kitchen, I locked up the front and swiped a few dirty glasses from a booth in the corner. When I got back to the kitchen, Jackson was practically throwing things in the refrigerator.

I helped him clear off the big prep table in the center of the room, then followed him as he marched out the back door. He took one of my hands and with the other called Hazel.

“Fuck. She’s not answering.”