Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 89535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Only, now I realize I still have a jockstrap on. I strip that off and throw it across the room so I don’t have to go back another time.
West beats me home because we took separate cars, and as soon as I step inside the house, it’s obvious pandemonium has broken out.
Welcome to my life.
The twins are yelling at each other over whatever Xbox game they’re playing, Zoe’s yelling at West about being too young to look after four kids while he and I play stupid hockey, and Hazel’s at the dining table, noise-canceling headphones on with her laptop open in front of her.
Okay then.
I turn to Bennett and Emmett. “Find a way to problem solve between yourselves, or guess what? Neither of you get to play the Xbox.”
That shuts them up fast.
Now, Zoe’s turn. “Why are you too young to look after the others?”
“Because they don’t listen,” she screeches. “Rhys went out. I don’t know where. I’ve been trying to call you. He just … left.”
“He left,” I say. “He’s thirteen.” Why in the fuck did he think it was okay to go out this late at night?
“Yes! What was I supposed to do? Leave the others here and go after him? This is too much pressure. This is unfair.”
Oh, honey, you want to talk to me about unfair?
I give her my “Are you fucking kidding me?” glare, but then her blue eyes fill with tears, and I remind myself she’s fifteen. I’m twenty-one and can barely handle all the chaos three preteens and a thirteen-year-old bring.
Last year, our system worked. Zoe was with the kids in the afternoons until West and I got home from practice, and West would stay home while the team was at away games. But I guess all the kids have had a hormonal surge, or maybe last year they were all too depressed to act out. Maybe Zoe’s tired, which I understand. Either way, it’s obvious it’s not working anymore, and we shouldn’t be putting that much pressure on Zoe.
I soften my voice. “Okay, here’s what’s going to happen. Zoe, go … have a bath or whatever you womenfolk do to relax. West, you make some calls to Rhys’s friends’ parents, and I’ll go for a walk and see if I can find him close by. He can’t get far on foot.”
West nods at me and moves into the kitchen to find the school binder with parents’ names and contact numbers in it. “Wait, who are Rhys’s friends?”
It speaks! Though, I don’t know if it was directly to me or everyone in general.
“There’s Tom, Harrison—actually, try Harrison’s first,” I say. “He lives close by, and they’ve been besties since they hung out all summer.”
West blinks at me as if to ask how I know this, but it’s not hard. I pay actual attention, unlike him, who seems to be checked out most of the time. He’s here, but he’s not really here.
“Okay.” He looks down at the binder.
“Last name Ford,” I say.
He lifts his head. “There’s a kid named Harrison Ford in Rhys’s class?”
I laugh. “No, but you should see your face. Real last name is Greer.”
West flips me off, and I actually welcome it. Yes, a sense of normalcy for once! He finds the number and dials, but while he does that, I turn to Hazel and give her my best “I know you know things” stare.
I can communicate with all my siblings with one single look. “Where is he?” I ask her.
She points at her headphones and shakes her head.
“Where. Is. He?”
Hazel sighs and moves one side of the headphone away from her ear. “He was going to meet a girl. At the park.”
“A girl? From school?”
She shrugs. “Online, I think.”
“He’s meeting a girl from online?” I screech. “Which park?”
“The one with the dog park in it. I think. I dunno, he said something about her walking a dog. I thought he was being gross, so I stopped listening.”
That thing where I said I love my siblings? They make it really hard sometimes.
“West, I’m going out to look for him.” Even though I’m dead tired after that grueling practice and it’s pitch-black outside, I run to the park. It’s only a block and a half away.
I swear to God, if my little brother has been trapped into some sex trafficking ring, I’m going to go full Liam Neeson on their asses.
I reach the park, breathless and sweating, but I can’t see anyone anywhere. The streetlights illuminate the area to a certain degree, but not completely.
The only person I can see is a dude with a dog in the fenced-off play area beside me. Other than the occasional bark or growl, the whole place is silent.
I pant, sucking in sharp breaths, but I’m not sure if I’m winded because of the running or that I have no control over where Rhys is.