Shelby

I stand like a statue, unable to move a muscle as I take in the room that changed everything about my life as I knew it. I hadn’t spent but a few seconds in here that night all those years ago, but from what I can tell, not much has changed.

Computer parts and cords are scattered across every available surface, with boxes stacked in the corner. The bed is made, but rumpled. At least it’s empty.

“Shelby,” Wyatt calls, snapping me back to the here and now. “Your daughter.”

I blink at him. My daughter. Him saying those words to me is so strange. But she’s not just my daughter; she’s his too. Oh, God. What was I thinking coming here?

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come here,” I blurt out, bolting past him toward the door.

When it opens just a fraction, my heart soars with hope. I need to get out of this room, out of this clubhouse. Out of this godawful town. But I only get it open a fraction before it’s closed with a thud so loud, it rattles the walls around us.

Wyatt stands behind me, so close, I can feel the heat of his chest against my back, his muscled forearm pressing against the door beside me. “I don’t fucking think so, sweet cheeks. I’m done watching the ass end of you running away from me. You came to me, asking for help.” His words, whispered against my cheek, sends a shiver down my spine. And just for a moment, I revel in his nearness, my eyes falling closed as he moves even closer.

“Fuck,” he snarls, pushing away from me and stalking across to the other side of the room. “What the actual fuck, Shelby? You can’t just fucking walk back in here thirteen years later and tell me I have a goddamn kid. You think you can drop an atomic bomb like that and just bolt again?”

I press my back against the door and fight back the tears that are already spilling down my cheeks. “I shouldn’t have come to you. I shouldn’t be here.”

Anger and hatred stare back at me from the same eyes that once looked at me with reverence and admiration. “You heartless bitch,” he spits. Those words assault my heart like serrated blades, but I still don’t move. “You think long and hard about your next move, Shelby. If what you say is true, and that you’ve been keeping my kid from me all these years, we’ll deal with that. But if it’s also true this kid is missing, we need to move, and we need to move fast. So, pull your fucking head out of your ass and fill me in so I can find my fucking daughter.”

I gape at him before finally dashing away my tears on the backs of my trembling hands. Reaching into my purse, I pull out the small stack of photos I’d been showing to anyone who would look and hold them out.

He doesn’t take his eyes off of mine as he steps forward, plucking them from my fingers. I stand rigid and watch as he takes in the image of his daughter for the first time. There’s no mistaking she’s his. She has his brown eyes, and dark, unruly hair. She even has the little dimple in her chin that I had once teased him about, even though it was one of my favorite features. He swallows thickly and flips to the next photograph, and then the next. All of them are current, and taken within the past few months.

“Her name is Hayden,” I say quietly, my heart cracking a little when his eyes fall closed.

“You gave her my last name?”

“And mine,” I say, pushing past the pain in his voice as I explain. “Hayden, for your last name, and mine, Dawson. So, Hayden Dawson she is.”

I watch as he opens his mouth to speak, but then appears to reconsider, and gives his head a shake. “How long has she been missing?”

“Almost seven hours now,” I whisper.

“Jesus.” Wyatt glances back down at the photographs. “What can you tell me?”

“She’s a computer nut, always has been. She programs video games and other stuff I don’t even try to understand. But, a few weeks ago, she started acting really secretive. She'd close her laptop when I came in the room, or she’d be up after her bedtime when she thought I was asleep. None of it was normal for her.”

Wyatt pulls a chair away from the desk and brings it closer, indicating for me to take a seat. With a sigh, I move to it and accept the offer, watching as he perches himself on the edge of the bed.

“Then, this afternoon, she didn’t return from summer camp. Nobody knew where she was, and the police weren’t much help. They figure she’s a runaway, but I know my daughter.” I ignore the way his jaw hardens at that statement.

“I phoned every friend she has, and all but harassed the police those first few hours, but I got no closer. I got on her laptop, but I can’t get on. I’m worried something terrible has happened, Wyatt.”

“I’m gonna need that laptop,” he says, all business now.

“I have it in my car. I grabbed it before I left to come here.”

“Where have you been living?”

I hesitate before answering him. I’d spent so long keeping my whereabouts a secret so he’d never know, and telling him now would go against all that. “Beckettville.”

His jaw ticks with anger, but again, he holds back on saying anything. I know he’s wondering how we could have been so close all this time and never ran into each other at some point.

“Why didn’t the police put out an Amber Alert?”

I sigh. “They wanted to speak with you before they did.”

He curses. “I’ll speak to them all right. There’ll be an Amber Alert out within the hour. Now, go get me that laptop so I can see what she’s been up to.”