Free Found and Lost by Amanda G. Stevens Page A

onward.
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œThey could bring dogs in.” A tree would be nothing but a trap.
    They had to run as far as they could, as fast as they could. Violet’s T-shirt stuck to her back. Feathery ferns and rough weeds tried to trip her. In the dark, she miscalculated distances, and her elbow left skin on a tree trunk.
    Eventually, lights filtered through the trees before them. The voices had faded and then disappeared. Violet slowed, stopped. Khloe still clung to her hand, pressed the other to her side.
    â€œOw,” she whispered.
    The lights ahead blinked. No, moved. White lights, red lights, and that whooshing sound. Traffic. Probably a main road, judging from the speed of the passing cars.
    â€œViolet?”
    â€œLet’s hope there’s a street sign. We have to figure out where we are.”
    She set out toward the road. Rustling grass behind her assured that Khloe was following. She emerged into a gust of wind that dried the sweat on her back and raised goose bumps on her arms. The scent of rain filled the air around her. Perfect, if a dog tried to trail them later. Come on, sky. Rain already.
    She jogged a hundred yards or so to the closest road sign, where a residential street butted up against the forest and intersected with this road.
    â€œI know where we are,” Khloe said behind her.
    â€œMe, too.” Mostly.
    â€œI can find my street from here. And that porch.”
    Yes. This was it. God had sent Khloe back here to continue Violet’s mission.
    But Khloe would find out.
    No, she won’t. Violet linked her fingers through her friend’s. Their charm bracelets clinked against each other.
    â€œYou’re coming?” Khloe’s whisper lilted with hope.
    â€œWhere else would I go?”
    â€œHome, stupidhead.”
    Violet squeezed her hand. “Overrated.”

10
    His steps should echo through the foyer, down the hall, into the kitchen, but his tennis shoes were silent. Like the house. Like his wife, who slid away into their bedroom and shut the door. What Clay needed right now was the edge of a cliff to jump from, a plunge into water that would numb the silent screaming in this house. His keys dangled from his fingers. He rubbed the key to his bike, cold and ready. What he needed right now was an infinite blacktop carpet rolled out before him—curves and blind hills and speed.
    He rushed to the rack of hooks hung across the room, below Natalia’s calendar of waterfall photos. The keys jingled as he shoved them onto a hook. No bike. No running. He wasn’t that man anymore.
    This loss wasn’t the one that tore holes in his dreams. Khloe was still alive, still healthy … and imperiled by his own stupidity. Clay wandered to the fridge and pawed for a Dr Pepper. The can chilled his palm.
    Go back there and get her.
    He popped the can’s seal. Cool fizz sprayed his palm and tickled his throat going down. Maybe pop would settle his stomach. He gulped half the can before he noticed the blender parts in the sink. The glass container lay on its side, not even soaking. By now, the thin pink coat of strawberry smoothie had dried and crusted. Khloe had whipped up and gulped down one of her creations before they picked Violet up tonight for the Table meeting.
    â€œDid you wash the blender or leave it in the sink?”
    â€œI’m such an irresponsible teenager.”
    Clay turned the water on hot and squirted some soap onto the dishrag. Behind his eyes, something burned.
    â€œLord,” he whispered. “You know I can’t go out there and get her. So You bring her home.”
    â€œWhat are you doing?”
    He didn’t turn to face Natalia’s brittle voice. “Praying.”
    â€œIronic.” She stomped to the sink and slammed the faucet off. “Do not clean that thing.”
    Clay angled a glance. Natalia’s lips pressed into a thin, trembling line. He wanted to reach out and trace her cheekbone,