Where You Belong Read online

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  Thank you for downloading this ebook. The contents of this ebook are the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means— electronic or mechanical—without written permission of the author, Tracie Puckett

  Prologue

  “This can’t be right.” I blinked away tears. “Now he’s missing?”

  “What’s happening?” Daniel asked, coming into the kitchen. “She’s actually crying over this? Roz, you’re an idiot. You—don’t—even—know—the—loser.”

  “Hey, ease up,” Mel snapped at my younger brother. She sat next to me at the table and rubbed my back.

  What should’ve been a fun night at home with my three best friends had suddenly turned to distress; the evening entertainment news had just broken their top story of the night, which left me numb with disbelief.

  As I sat in shock, my friend Carter took to her phone to search the Internet for additional details on the headline.

  “Roz,” Ally chimed in, her legs swinging down from the countertop. “I love you, I do. You know I love you. But . . . you’re being too sensitive. I thought you were over this guy?”

  “It’s a waste of emotion,” Daniel said, and Ally nodded.

  “He’s right. How can you invest an ounce of energy—”

  “Guys, honestly,” Mel hissed. “Stop.”

  “You know what?” I said, wiping the corner of my eye. I was over him. I was so over him. “They’re right. He’s not worth it.”

  Avery Chase was garbage—the lowest of the low on the totem pole of Hollywood actors, and it devastated me to admit that. Once upon a time, I was in awe of him, and even Carter had had a major crush on the teenage heartthrob. But she, just like thousands of others, had stuck up her nose in recent weeks.

  Avery had earned a lot of contempt from his most loyal fans after a drug conviction nearly landed him in jail last month. And this fell on the heels of his first ever publicized scandal. Just days before his arrest, photos came to surface of Avery on the beach, locking lips with his young, beautiful, married PR rep, Evie Lawson.

  Drugs. Infidelity scandals. I had no idea who this guy was, but he wasn’t the man I’d once admired.

  This was the final straw, as far as I was concerned. I’d lost all faith in him and vowed to forget he’d ever existed. I was angry—hurt that he hadn’t made better decisions. He was yet another person I’d looked up to who’d fallen short, and the choices he’d made had proven once and for all that he was just like the rest of them—shallow, weak, and tempted by the lifestyle of the rich and the famous.

  A month had passed since Avery’s conviction, and I’d tried not to follow the news, but it was everywhere. It hadn’t taken more than a passing glance at a magazine in the supermarket to learn that he’d escaped jail time, and instead paid a massive fine on the charge of misdemeanor drug possession.

  Even after paying his debt for the crime, the press was far from over his transgressions. They couldn’t dig up anything more scandalous than the uncharacteristic behavior of their quintessential sweetheart. A couple of bad decisions had become enough to outweigh all the good he’d done in and around his community.

  Suddenly no one cared to recognize the long days he’d spent reading at the Children’s Hospital every month, or how he’d led the cause for wildlife cleanup after an oil-drilling disaster last year. Forget about the dozens of no-kill pet shelters he’d kept funded, or the various eco-friendly foundations he’d gotten involved with to help fund essential research. He’d always used his money, influence, and power for good, but none of that seemed to matter anymore.

  It was as if the whole world had long awaited the day Avery would finally screw up, succumbing to the pressure of Hollywood. And now that he had, the media refused to back down.

  What a hard, fast fall from grace . . .

  The negative attention showed little sign of fading, and another magazine reported he was issued a five-episode suspension from his hit cable TV show, Where You Belong.

  And here we were, three days later, as reports surfaced on his disappearance.

  “Zero social media interaction.” Carter browsed through an online article. “His phone’s disconnected. His car was found abandoned in a parking structure two miles from his LA apartment. No flight records. No sightings. He’s had no known contact with friends or family since Wednesday.”

  “Any reason to suspect foul play?” Mel asked.

  “No,” Carter said, still reading the article. “There’s an interview with one of the investigators; she said the case doesn’t look like an abduction or anything serious, and that it has all the telltale signs of a man on the run. If he’s not popping up or checking in, then he doesn’t want to be found. She says, in most of these cases, the missing person usually turns up in a day or two. But it won’t last that long. The detectives and the paparazzi are on a frenzied search to track him down.”

  “Track him down?” Ally asked. “Where in the world would he go?”

  “Anywhere to get his next fix.”

  “Screw you, Daniel,” I yelled, slamming my hands against the table. “Exactly who the hell do you think you are—”

  “Let’s not do that, Roz.” Mel grabbed my outstretched arms. “Deep breath. Find your center.”

  Ha! Right. I’d been out of touch with that for a while now, so fat chance it would magically appear out of the blue. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt any sense of peace or calm. Life had become one chaotic train wreck after another with no end in sight, so there was no “center.”

  Carter looked up from her phone. “Roz, what do you think? What’s your theory?”

  I scoffed.

  My theory? My theory was that I didn’t know Avery at all, and that I’d wasted so many years looking up to this guy, and for what? He was just another letdown in a series of washed-up role models. He was just one more loser out in the world, another guy pretending to be something he wasn’t. My theory was that he was a hypocrite who’d abused the trust of everyone who’d supported him, and that made him the worst kind of human being.

  “I don’t care.”

  “Of course you do,” Mel said. “How can you say that?”

  “I—don’t—care,” I said again, punching each word for emphasis. “I honestly don’t give a—”

  “We get it,” Ally said.

  Mel settled back in her chair. “I’m kinda shocked by what I’m hearing here. It’s not like I expected you to cry for hours on end, or anything, but . . . I thought you’d at least be concerned for his well-being. Don’t you want to know that he’s safe? Don’t you care if he’s happy and well?”

  “No,” I said, fighting tears as I glanced out the far window. “I don’t. I don’t care.”

  Avery Chase wasn’t any concern of mine. Not anymore. Never again.

  ONE WEEK LATER . . .

  Chapter One

  “In the final game of the season, the Sutton Woods Warriors take the State Football Championship title, closing out their 14-0 season with a sweeping 34-point victory,” Carter read, grinning. My friend dropped the newspaper on the table and slid it over to me. “Roz, he did it. Have you seen these pictures of the game? Your brother’s a living legend!”

  “Local legend,” I said through gritted teeth. “Let’s not get carried away.”

  I shoved the paper away from my plate, in no hurry to read another article boasting about the Sutton Woods quarterback who’d carried the Warriors through an undefeated season (and all the way up to the first state victory in our town’s history!).

  It was bad enough I had to share a bathroom wit
h my superstar brother; I didn’t need the million reminders of his boundless success.

  “He’ll have his pick of colleges, that’s for sure.” Mel stopped by the corner booth to refill our glasses. “Your parents must be psyched.”

  “I can only imagine.” Ally swept the newspaper off the table. From where she sat across from Carter and me, she read over the front-page article again. “To be a high school junior and have your entire future mapped out . . . that’s life-changing stuff.”

  “I still can’t believe you didn’t go to the game,” Carter added.

  “I wasn’t feeling well,” I said, feeding them the same lie I’d fed my parents as they walked out the door yesterday morning.

  No one needed to know that I’d manipulated my way into some alone time, solely to hunt down a part-time job. Because I needed money—and fast—and I had no idea how I would come up with the kind of dough it would cost me to pay down a $5,000 debt without a job. So as my family trekked upstate, I’d spent my time all over Sutton Woods, dropping off applications for paid positions I didn’t want but desperately needed.

  “It was one of those twenty-four-hour bugs, I guess.”

  “Still,” Carter said. “That was probably the biggest day of your brother’s life, and you weren’t there to—”

  “Okay, yeah. I get it,” I said. “He won a football game. Yay, Daniel. Let’s move on.”

  “Oh, calm down, sourpuss.” Carter nudged me. “What’s with you lately? You should be happy for him.”

  “Yeah.” Jasper leaned in. “Let’s not forget this wasn’t just a football game. It was the football game of the—”

  “You know what? Roz is right.” Mel spoke over Ally’s boyfriend. She rolled the paper up and tucked it under her arm. “This is literally yesterday’s news. Maybe we should talk about something else.”

  The table silenced at her suggestion, and I could sense each of my friends considering safe topics for a change of subject.

  “Oh, Delta won a blue ribbon at the fair last month.” Mel nodded behind the counter to the diner owner and then leaned her hip against the ledge of our table. “Three years running. Best pie in the county.”

  “Flavor?” Ally asked.

  “Dutch apple. Last year she took first place with cherry. The year before that, lemon meringue.”

  “Any of this award-winning pie on the premises?” Jasper asked, sitting taller. Of course he’d want to try it; though I’d taken to calling him the Cake Man, Jasper was incredibly skilled at any dessert he tried his hand at. “I need to see what I’m up against.”

  “You’re not ‘up against’ anything.” Ally giggled. “Delta serves Sutton Woods; you serve Cedar Lake. You’re not in competition.”

  “Well, maybe someday I plan on bringing my competition to town . . . say, in a year or so?”

  “I’m counting down the days,” Ally said, leaning into him.

  Jasper draped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer, and I swear the rest of us sighed at the thought of someday finding a boyfriend half as sweet as him. Ally was smitten. Jasper was clearly love-struck. It was freaking adorable how happy they were, especially at any mention of his eventual move to Sutton Woods for their planned business venture at The Red Barn.

  Jasper flashed a gorgeous smile up to Mel. “Where’d we land on that pie?”

  “You name it, we’ve got it.”

  “Great. I’ll take a slice of each.”

  Ally dropped her head and groaned.

  Our last few Saturday nights had ended just like this, with dinner and dessert at Delta’s Diner. Unfortunately for Mel, that usually meant she served her friends, missing out on the chance to sit down and enjoy our company. But she never complained, and neither did Delta; as long as the other tables were kept up, Mel was afforded plenty of opportunity to swing by and chat.

  Our time was precious together; Mel, Ally, Carter, and I made up the tightest group of friends in Sutton Woods, and having just entered the second quarter of our senior year, it was now more important than ever that we take the time to be together between school, jobs, and everything else we had going on.

  Spending time together, though, now meant that we were also spending a lot of our downtime in the company of Jasper St. James. We’d practically adopted him as one of our own since he had dual connections within the group; not only had he and Ally been dating since Halloween, but he was also Carter’s cousin. So, at least for now, we were stuck with him—and that wasn’t a complaint. I liked the guy.

  “Okay, I’m out of here,” Carter said a half hour later, once we’d helped Jasper polish off six slices of pie. The general consensus gave lemon meringue the edge, and he’d taken that as a challenge to outdo eighty-year-old Delta. “We’re still on for Wednesday, right?”

  Everyone agreed, nodding and voicing their excitement for our annual Thanksgiving tradition.

  “But don’t forget about Tuesday,” Ally added. “Try to be here by noon. We have to finalize the plans.”

  “Right, of course.” Carter waved. “Night, guys.”

  Ally and Jasper were out the door shortly after Carter, leaving me alone to say goodnight to Mel as she cleaned up the table.

  “You’re sure you’re okay, Roz?”

  “I’m fine,” I promised, because she needed the reassurance. She’d asked so often lately, which meant I desperately needed to step up my game. She could see through this crappy wall I’d put up, and I couldn’t have her worried. Worry would lead to speculation, and I had to stomp any kind of suspicion before it started. “Really, I am. I’m great.”

  “You can call tonight if you need to talk,” she said, checking her watch. “I’m off in an hour.”

  “Thanks, but—”

  “You’re fine, I know,” she said, though concern etched lines around her tired eyes. “But the offer stands. Always.”

  “Great, thanks.” With a quick wave, I ducked out of the diner before she could press any further.

  Stopping on the sidewalk, I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath. Dropping my head back, I invited the gentle drops of cool November rain to roll across my face.

  I needed moments like this—quiet, uninterrupted moments of pause.

  I hated that I had to lie to my friends. Lately, it’d become such a chore to maintain the dramatic version of myself they always expected.

  I was supposed to be the happy one in our group—the ever-smiling, energetic, never-short-for-words Rosalind Bingham. But stress weighed heavy on my heart, and the more I let hints of my anxiety seep to the surface, the more they’d come to suspect something was wrong.

  And something was wrong—big time. But this problem went so far beyond anything the girls, my parents, or even a part-time job could fix. I would need to work full-time if I ever wanted to make a dent in this sudden debt I found myself in.

  Five thousand dollars on a three-month deadline was unfathomable, and there were no leads pointing me in the right direction.

  With a last cleansing breath, I promised myself a harder search tomorrow. I’d hit the road, drive out to the neighboring towns, and keep looking. Persistence was bound to pay off. I’d find something. I had to find something . . .

  One block away from the diner, I rounded the corner as a large SUV took a too-wide turn to park, slamming into the driver’s side of my old, beloved Geo Metro. The tires screeched and the metal scraped, and the eerie sounds of the low-impact collision echoed through the quiet streets of Sutton Woods.

  “Oh my god!”

  I searched the sidewalk for another witness, hopeful for a familiar face. It was my kind of luck this guy would take off, leaving me a stranded victim of a hit-and-run. But the street was empty, and the driver wasn’t going anywhere; he’d made no attempt to flee the scene.

  The man rushed out of his vehicle. He was dressed in a black hooded jacket and jeans. His face was shaded beneath a dark baseball cap, which made it nearly impossible to make out his features as the night shadowed him.
/>   “You hit my car.”

  “I’ll cover the costs,” he said, rounding the front of his vehicle. I couldn’t even look at him as he stepped under the streetlight and out of the darkness; my eyes were locked on the wreckage. The driver’s side of my Metro was caved in, and the glass from the window lay scattered in a puddle beneath my feet.

  The damage was extensive. My tiny two-door car hadn’t stood a chance against his giant SUV. There’s no way I could drive home. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not anytime soon . . .

  “You hit my car,” I said again, because apparently the English language was lost on me. I was helpless; he’d hit my car!

  “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “It was an honest accident.”

  “No shit. I can’t imagine you did this on purpose,” I said, dropping my face into my hands. My life was over.

  “Then I guess I should also apologize for how insensitive this is going to sound.” He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “But how much will it cost to make this go away?”

  “Go away?” I surveyed the damage again. “I have to call my parents. And the police. We have to call the police!”

  It was only then that I looked at the stranger, and a single glimpse at his shaded face pulled me back a few steps.

  It was the shock—anxiety, paired with nausea and fear. That’s all it was. Shock. Not reality.

  My eyes were playing tricks on me.

  There was no way I was standing there, looking into the apologetic eyes of Avery Chase. He’d gone missing—MIA for over a week now—and there’s no way he’d shown up in Sutton Woods.

  It was all in my head; the world was starved for some sign of him, so this was just some sick, twisted game my mind was playing on me.

  “Right, the police.” He dropped his head and rubbed the back of his neck, pausing for a minute before he turned his big, round, beautiful eyes back up to me. “If at all possible . . . I’d prefer we do this without involving them.”

  It was bad enough he looked like Avery—I mean, dead-on, could-be-twin, carbon-copy lookalike, but he sounded just like him, too. There was no mistaking that quiet, smoky voice, coupled with the subtle undertone of a southern upbringing.