47. Runaway

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Three days.

It took Kyle three days of utter confusion to realize he wasn't shackled to the floor in some dungeon. Three days in which he tried to understand how he could be as stupid as to throw his phone against the wall and destroy it. He'd gotten a new one, but he didn't know any numbers by heart. Or email addresses. He was terrible.

But then, on the morning of the fourth day, divine revelation came to him. So he walked out of his generic bedroom (he hadn't even bothered to unpack), walked down the stairs, out of the house, climbed into his mother's Mercedes and drove to the airport. Once there, he got a ticket for Dallas, waited patiently, and two hours later, he was on the plane. No one called to ask where he was.

When he landed, he had one missed call from his mother.

Kyle took a cab from the airport, went back home and got out in front of the ranch. He no longer had the remote to open the gate, since it had been in his car, but a wall wouldn't stop him. He climbed over, walked to the house as if nothing had happened, and went in. Max wasn't home, not at this hour and he could hear Rosario fumbling in the kitchen. He walked past her, to the garage and got in his Ferrari.

He found the key next to the speed gear, where he always left it. He also noticed it was the spare key. Which meant Kay still had the other. He frowned, wondering why she'd kept it and who had taken the car from her place back to the ranch. He'd find out soon enough.

The moment he was out the gate, his heart finally started beating again. He'd been so stupid. He should've done this the moment he found out everyone had lied to him. He was going to see Kay in minutes. Hold her, kiss her, apologize for missing. And they could go on their first date.

Once he parked outside her house, everything crumbled. There was a For sale sign perched in front of it.

"No," he whispered.

He got out of the car, hurried to the garage and scrambled on top of it. He rushed to Kay's window and looked inside. It was empty. There was no furniture, no nothing, as if she'd never been there. His heart stopped beating and it felt like he was falling into a bottomless void.

His knees hit the roof of the garage. His head spun, his stomach churned as a sense of numbness engulfed him and his vision hazed. Am I crying? Seriously? But there were no tears, no relief from the pain. From the abandonment, the betrayal. This is not Kay's fault. Of course it wasn't. She hadn't run from him, she'd been taken away.

Anger shot through him and his vision cleared. Anger at Max, at his father, at Kay's parents. At Donnie. If he ever saw that jackass again, he'd wring his neck. Because it didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened. Donnie had obviously told Kay's parents about them and they'd taken her away.

Kelly.

He scrambled off the garage, got back into the car and sped over to Kelly's place. He ran to the door and banged his fist against it continuously until Kelly's mother finally opened.

"What's the matter with... Kyle?"

"Hi, Mrs. Lampard. Sorry about the door thing. Is Kelly home?"

Mrs. Lampard stared at him for a few seconds, then moved out of the way to let him in. "Sure. Kelly!" She called towards the stairs. She returned to staring at him. "Kelly was so worried about you. She said you just disappeared." She paused. "So has Kay," she whispered.

Those simple three words killed all hope. If Kelly said Kay disappeared, she had no idea where she was either. So he waited numbly for Kelly to come down. Not that he could any other way. It felt like all emotions had been stolen from him and he was left to function, not live. Living was over.

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