Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 124923 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 416(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124923 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 416(@300wpm)
I’m twelve pages deep in my image search when I see something that has my blood running cold. Or rather, someone. Holden must feel the way my body goes rigid because he drops his controller to the floor, before standing. “What is it?”
I rise from the couch, showing him the photo of his uncle at an event, shaking hands and laughing with the man I haven’t set eyes on in years. Holden’s eyebrows cinch together, not following. “What am I looking at?”
“That’s Cameron,” I say, pointing at the picture. “My mom’s ex-boyfriend.”
Recognition flashes in his eyes and he grabs my phone, zooming in on the image. He says something about putting a face to the name of the guy he’s going to kill, but I don’t fully hear him, my mind too busy trying to connect the dots.
Samuel knows Cameron. Is maybe even friends with him. Samuel knew my mother’s name. Does he know they dated? Does he know about Cameron’s proclivity for young girls and his willingness to pay for them?
I take my phone from Holden’s hand, searching for a post I read earlier. It was a mother claiming that her fourteen-year-old son was sent to a juvenile detention facility for nine months for getting caught with weed. I scan the article for the name of the place, my stomach dropping when my suspicions are confirmed.
Hillside Youth Center. The same one owned by Cameron James.
“Valen,” Holden says, sounding alarmed. “What’s wrong?”
I tune him out, on the brink of putting it all together. Holden’s speech from the night of the gala pops into my mind.
“Thank you for your generous contributions to…” He turned to Samuel. “What’s this for?”
“At-risk youth,” Samuel said, trying to conceal his anger.
“Right. At-risk youth…”
Then I remember the message about a wire transfer that Holden intercepted. The one from someone saved in his phone as CJ. Cameron James.
“I think I know where Christian is.”
“Explain,” Thayer says half an hour later when we’re all gathered in my dorm. I sent Shayne a text immediately after telling Holden, asking her to bring Thayer and meet me at home.
“Cameron is my mom’s ex,” I start.
“The one who—” Shayne breaks off mid-sentence, not wanting to say it out loud. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so angry as when I told her. I don’t know who she hates more—him or my mom.
I nod. “He owns a private juvenile detention facility.”
“What does that have to do with Christian?” Thayer asks.
“My guess is that Cameron has been bribing Samuel to send kids to his facility in exchange for money.” I explain everything, from the photo of the two of them together, the charity gala for at-risk youth, the articles accusing Samuel of subjecting kids to overly harsh punishments for minor crimes and mistakes to the text about the wire transfer from CJ. All of it.
“And you think Christian’s there? Can they do that even though he’s over eighteen now?” Shayne asks.
“Clearly, this guy isn’t concerned about legalities,” Holden says. “And there’s no telling how much Cameron makes in kickbacks from Samuel. I’m sure he’d have no problem keeping Christian there as a favor.”
“Fuck.” Thayer blows out a breath and scrubs a hand over his face. “It makes too much sense.”
“I have no idea if Christian’s there, but it’s worth checking out,” I say. I don’t want to give false hope that Christian’s alive, but my gut tells me he’s there.
“Only one way to find out,” Thayer says, fishing his phone out of his pocket.
Valen
I have a death grip on my steering wheel, my eyes straining to see through the thick snow. I’m on my way back from my last appointment with my physical therapist where I got the green light to go back to cheer. Her office is a good thirty minutes away, and by the time I got out, it was already dark out. I don’t know why I feel so anxious. You don’t live in Sawyer Point, Massachusetts your whole life and not know how to drive in snow, but tonight, the combination of icy roads and white-out conditions have me on edge. Five more minutes until I’m back at Hadley.
Thayer called his dad and told him about my theory about Christian last night. They expected to hear the same old recycled response of, “I’ll handle it,” to placate them, but to their surprise, he told them that accepting bribes was one of the many things he’s suspected of doing. He promised to check it out, but Thayer and Holden didn’t have much faith and tried to call the facility themselves. Of course, they didn’t get anywhere due to privacy policies. I had to talk Holden out of tracking Cameron down himself, knowing that won’t end well for anyone.
A dark SUV appears in the distance behind me, pulling me from my thoughts. It speeds up, approaching too fast to be considered sane, especially in this weather. I assume he’ll pass me, but instead, he rides my ass, flashing his bright lights.