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“Lane’s down this weekend if you wanted to come over.” I said when I put the phone to my ear. “You can crash on my couch.”
“Maybe, I’ll let you know. I’ve got… things I need to look into.”
There was a tone to his voice. Tension. Hesitancy. And my whole body went stiff. Cas and Rev watched me closely, and I turned away from them and put my finger in my ear to drown out the music so I could hear Isaac better.
“What’s going on?” I asked, swallowing against a tight sensation in my chest. “Hannah has been texting me all day. She said you were gonna call.”
“Yeah. I needed to wait until I got off. Wanted to be able to talk.”
A chill slid over my shoulders, like tiny ice cubes sliding over my skin. Isaac rarely called me to “talk.” We sent texts unless it was something major like Hannah moving down, or his parents moving to North Carolina. I tried to think of what it could be. Maybe something to do with my dad. Another DUI he was trying to have covered up, or he'd put the house up for sale?
There was only one other reason Isaac might call to talk. And it had been a reason I’d been dreading for a while.
There was an update on Tatum’s missing person report.
My jaw clenched, and it took a second before I could work it lose to speak again. “Isaac, what’s going on?”
There was a beat of silence, then he sighed. “You in a spot where you can talk for a minute?”
I must have made a noise, or a face, because Cas leaned over the bar and Rev elbowed me. They wore identical concerned expressions, the type that said they could switch to commiseration or backup depending on what I asked of them.
But neither of them could do what I wanted. Unless they could bring someone back from the dead.
I got up from my stool, half numb as I walked outside the bar. Even the humidity in the air couldn’t keep the cold chill from consuming me, and once the door was shut and the music from the speakers dulled to a low thudding pulse, I let out a breath, steeling myself for what I knew was coming.
What I’d known was coming for a while.
“Just get it over with. Where’d you find…” I took a breath, my throat burning when I swallowed, the alcohol in my stomach threatened to come back up. “The body?”
“Didn’t find one,” Isaac said, his tone calm, but otherwise devoid of emotion. “Tate’s alive.”
The knot in my stomach clenched, then slowly eased, unwinding itself back into a thin loop of rope. A second later, the breath I’d been holding left my lungs, and I sagged against the railing on the small porch that surrounded the bar.
She’s… alive.
Tate’s alive.
Tatum is alive…
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Read the First Chapter HERE!
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Anastasia Fenne is an author of contemporary romance and romantic suspense. When she's not dreaming up the emotional turmoil she can put her characters through, she's busy playing video games, reading romance and fantasy novels, and being a general nerd. She resides in the Midwest with her four children, three cats, one dog, and a bewildered spouse.
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