Sacrificing Sloan (Sloan Series Book 3) (9 page)

In the corner of the room sat his empty wheelchair, a reminder of the huge lie he pulled over us all. Aaron hadn’t paralyzed him. He hadn’t done anything to him. It made me queasy.

Mrs. Lawrence wiped a rag over one of the seats and sat down. From what I remember, the house had gone downhill since she’d moved to Nashville. Maybe her whole family had, too. “What makes you think I know anything about Boyd?”

“Just a hunch.” I shrugged my shoulders because I really didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t want to sitbecausei my clothes were so wet, but it was just awkward standing there. Ray didn’t seem to mind. He plopped down in the chair that I remember Mr. Lawrence using in the past. Where was he?

“A hunch.” She scoffed and took a drag from her cigarette. The thick smoke hurt my lungs, and I wanted to go outside before I got cancer just from being in her house. Not that I really thought I would, but it would be nice to breathe. “I got back into town yesterday. The police called me and let me know what was going on. I thought maybe Boyd would come home.”

“And he hasn’t.” It wasn’t a question. If Boyd had been there, she never would have let us in.

She took another drag on her cigarette. “Haven’t seen anyone ’cept you two. Not even the police have stopped by. I guess they are too busy searching.”

I hated to tell her that they weren’t searching. Not a lot. The storm kept them from it. But this was Boyd’s mama, and I didn’t want her to worry. I hoped my mom didn’t worry about me, when Mackenzie figured out where I’d gone. I know Mackenzie would tell her. I know I would, if the tables were turned. Knowing Mackenzie, she'd probably even tell my dad. No, that was too terrible to think about. The last thing I needed was
him
there.

“I guess we thought the same thing. Where’s Mr. Lawrence?” I needed to cut the small talk and get on the road.

“Fishing trip, or so he told me.” I couldn’t tell if it was really nice, or really weird, that Mr. Lawrence sent Mrs. Lawrence letters or messages, to let her know where he was. I guess it would make sense, since they were still legally married.

“Fishing where?” Ray spoke for the first time, and for the first time, I think Boyd’s mom actually noticed him.

“Who are you?” She asked as her brow rose.

“Ray Hunter.” He didn’t stop. Didn’t flinch. It was a cool, calm, collected answer.

At his name, her face softened. It was like the ice princess melted and some sort of human being emerged. “You have a bandage on your face.”

“I do.”

“My boy do that to you?” She bit her lip and waited for an answer.

Ray nodded. It was all he had to do because tears already welled up in Mrs. Lawrence’s eyes at the confirmation. “The police told me Boyd shot a boy in the head. Said he went over the cliff with another young man.” She looked at me. “And that he hurt you. Is that true?”

My throat got dry, and I swallowed to get my voice back. “Y—yeah. He stalked me for a week. Pretended to be paralyzed. Then he took me to the falls.”

“He was going to hurt you again.” What made it more eerie is that she didn’t even say it like a question. It was just a matter of fact statement, like “the sky is blue”, or “I like gum.”

“Yeah.” The word barely escaped my mouth. I hated to think about it. What could have happened to me if Aaron and Ray hadn’t come to save me? I know it would not have been good. Now it was them that had to pay.

Mrs. Lawrence wiped the tears from her eyes and sat up straighter. “I’ll tell you like I told the police. I don’t know where Boyd is. I haven’t heard from him, but I will tell you one thing I didn’t tell the police because, well, they are the police. And there is a chance your brother is there, too.” She looked at Ray, who suddenly sat up, his interest piqued.

“There?”

She nodded, and grabbed a picture album, which sat on a side table next to the couch. It looked worn, definitely covered in dirt. Not an object that had been picked up very often in the last few months, or even years. Mrs. Lawrence gently, carefully, wiped some of the dirt away and opened the album. The very first picture was a yellowing wedding picture. She turned it quickly, past a picture of her belly bump, a picture of Boyd as a smiling, happy child. Wow, I couldn’t imagine him ever looking innocent, but he did.

I guess I tried not to think about Boyd as a child—a sweet kid, who was loved by parents and who was new to the world. To me, he’d always be the monster who attacked me in my house. I didn’t know exactly what caused him to snap. I only knew what he told me, but I wished it hadn’t. That kid, little Boyd Lawrence, the one with the light filling his eyes, had potential. He could have had a wonderful life. This guy, this Boyd, killed his.

Mrs. Lawrence stopped flipping through the pages and pulled out a picture. She handed it to me.

It was hard to look at, to be honest. It was a young Boyd, cotton-colored hair and a big goofy grin on his face, with a fishing pole in one hand and a fish in the other. Behind him, a very young Mr. Lawrence smiled from ear to ear. A cabin stood in the distance.

“We own that cabin,” Mrs. Lawrence explained. Her voice cracked, and I felt my own tears welling up in my eyes. I mourned for that boy. Yeah, I hated the man he had become, but that boy, the one who was so happy to have just caught a fish, had died a long time ago. And it was incredibly sad.

Mrs. Lawrence went on. “We used to go there a lot when Boyd was little. I hated it.” She laughed a little. “There was no phone, and my pager wouldn’t pick up there. I couldn’t be in contact with work every single moment, and it made me antsy. My husband loved it there. He liked getting away from life, but I didn’t. I enjoyed being connected.

Anyway, this cabin is where my husband went on his fishing trip. It’s on Chapel Creek, not too far down from the falls.”

My eyes lit up, and so did Ray’s. “And you didn’t tell the police?”

She shook her head. “I was afraid. I’ve been trying to call my husband, but I can’t get in contact with him. I guess the storm messed with the towers. In any case, if there was any way possible, I believe Boyd went there.”

“Why are you telling us this?” Ray asked. “If you didn’t tell the police, why us? Because I don’t mind telling you, your son is not my favorite person in the world, and I can’t guarantee what I’ll do when I find him.”

“You won’t kill him.” She said matte- of-factly. “You may hate him, but you won’t hurt him. You’ll bring him back, and you won’t have a gun. The police… they ask questions later. But you won’t. I have faith in you that you can bring my son back to me.”

“If you get your son…” Ray’s nostrils flared. “We will bring him back to jail.”

“At least he’ll be safe.” She fiddled with her fingers in her lap. Mrs. Lawrence, to me, had always been such a put-together woman. I hadn’t seen her many times, but when I did, I always saw her as “upper” society. It always amazed me that she’d married a teacher. I expected she’d marry up the social ladder. But this woman, the one in front of me, looked so broken. She looked like she didn’t know what else to do and was grasping at straws.

I found myself wanting to help her. I wanted to find Boyd. I needed to find Aaron. “And you really think he’s at this cabin?”

“I pray to God he is.” She answered. “Because at least there, they will be safe. If they are out in the woods, in this storm… I don’t want to think about it.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Aaron

Time: Unknown

A
PPARENTLY, IT WAS HARDER THAN
B
OYD
had thought to carry me on his back through the forest. The pelting rain that weighed our clothes down didn’t help, either, but by the time the cabin disappeared in the distance and the trees around the trail got thicker and thicker, he was panting so hard I thought he’d drop me.

And he did.

Right on my broken leg.

I could have killed him.

I wanted to kill him.

Instead, I kicked him in the leg.

He didn’t see it coming, of course, so he fell to the ground and rocked in pain a bit. By the time it was all over, we were both covered in mud and no closer to the main road.

Five miles to the main road. Then thirty or forty miles until Chapel Hill.

But surely we would find a car, before they got to Chapel Hill…. so that meant all we had to do was make it the five miles to the main road.

No problem, right?

Except the dirt trail was a muddy trap, the wind blew the trees so much, I was afraid they would fall, and the water was already around the cabin, so we couldn’t go back if we wanted.

Oh. Joy.

“We need to keep moving as much as we can today. I’ll keep an eye out for a place we can take shelter in tonight.”

“That a blind joke?” Boyd reached out until he found a tree trunk to pull himself up with.

“No. I’m so not in the joking mood.”

“Me neither. Come here. I’ll help you up.” He held out his hand most definitely not in my direction, and I looked between it and the trail. There was no way he could carry me. We both knew it. I guessed it was time to suck it up and try to walk. Not walk exactly, but use Boyd as a crutch. My sprained ankle would just have to lump it. I needed to get out of there.

“How about this? I’ll put my arm around you and hobble on my good leg.”

“You don’t have a good leg.”

“And you don’t have a good back.”

“I have a better back than you have a leg.”

“Boyd…”

“Aaron.”

Grumble.

“Just get over here and let me put my arm around you.” Not something I ever thought I’d say to Boyd Lawrence.

“I’d be happy to. Just tell me where
here
is.” Boyd reached out in my direction, better than he had the last time. My voice must have given my location away.

I reached out and took his hand, pulling him toward me. He slipped in the mud, but I steadied him before putting my arm around him. It hurt worse than anything had hurt in my life, trying to stand like that, but it had to be done. I let my left leg drag as I hopped on my right next to Boyd.

We took our first steps together like that.

I don’t cry.

I’m just not built that way.

But tears ran down my eyes as I tried to walk. Thankfully, the rain washed them away.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Sloan

2:59 PM

M
Y CAR SEAT WAS SOAKED FROM
the second I sat in the car. I think the rain had picked up, instead of slacking off, like I hoped it would.

But talking to Boyd’s mother had given me a strange sense of hope. If she was right, then Boyd, and possibly Aaron, were at the old fishing cabin. If that was true, then they both were safe and out of the rain.

I had to believe that because… I had to.

I had just put my car in reverse when my phone began vibrating.

It was Mackenzie, and I hesitated before I answered it. I shouldn’t. We were friends, after all, but we had sort of left her there and run away without taking her. That had to offend even the world’s best friend.

“You gonna answer that?” Ray asked, as he put his seatbelt on.

“I guess I should. Don’t know why I have to feel bad. You made me do it.”

“It is better this way. I don’t have to worry about her getting hurt, if she isn’t out here.”

“I’m out here.” I only meant it in kidding, but he seemed to take it as a diss.

“I didn’t mean that. You would have come anyway. Even if I had you tied to a chair. I saw, Sloan. You already had your boots on. You would have come out here without me, wouldn’t you?”

What could I say to that?

I answered the phone and was met with static. “Mackenzie?” I asked.

Static.

“Mackenzie!”

“Sloan… here… you…. found…”

“Mackenzie, I can’t understand you. You are breaking up.” I yelled into the receiver, just in case I was breaking up too. The storm must really be affecting the towers, if I couldn’t even hear her from Chapel Hill.

“Can… you… where… Sloan?”

Dead.

“Mackenzie?”

I checked my screen, and it had disconnected the call.

I dialed her back, but got nothing.

“Must be the storm.” Ray said.

“Must be. I never get that bad reception from Chapel Hill, though.”

“We’ve never had a storm like this, either. Come on.”

I drove to the end of the driveway and, instead of turning right like I had intended, and heading to Chapel Falls and following the trail down until we found Aaron, I turned left to the four-way stop. I turned right and then another right on the second back road. I was supposed to go on this road for about thirty miles then turn off on a side dirt road.

This road led to the cabin.

It was our one lead.

It was a long shot, but it was all we had.

I prayed as hard as I could that we’d find Aaron, and he’d be alright. I wanted to find him safe and sound in the old cabin. I touched my pants pocket, where I kept the picture Mrs. Lawrence gave me. She said I needed it more than she did at the moment.

I promised to return it.

It was incredibly hard to sit still, as I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel. “Should we call the police?”

“If Mackenzie’s phone didn’t work, I bet ours won’t either.” Ray kept his focus out the windows. I kept mine on the road, or what part of the road I could see between the windshield wipers.

We’d find them.

This was our lead.

Everything would be alright.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Aaron

Time: Unknown

I
DIDN’T THINK THERE WAS ANYTHING
in life that could hurt
that
bad. My leg felt like knives, more than knives, hatches—arrows—whatever weapon in the world assaulted my leg with every step we took.

And it wasn’t even steps. Not normal steps. If I could have walked and dragged my foot behind me, it might not have been that bad, but climbing a hill, in a storm, in the mud, there was no easy way to do this.

I knew we’d made the right decision, though because the water had gone up into the trees. From what I could tell, it was probably inside the cabin by now. We’d made the right decision, but it didn’t mean it was a good one.