Chapter Twelve
“Bryce,” I cried, breathlessly, into my cell phone.
“Oh, thank God. Are you okay?” he asked.
I sighed. “Well, I have a headache and a sprained ankle. Other than that, I’m doing fine.”
My dad got on the phone. “Cassie, where are you, honey?”
Hearing my dad’s voice, I had to blink back fresh tears. “To be honest, I really don’t know. I’m driving somewhere south on Interstate Thirty-Five. There’s a lot of fields and farmland. I was too busy trying to get away from Austin to really find out.”
“He’s a dead man,” he growled.
“Actually, that’s closer to the truth than you could possibly imagine,” I said. It was obvious that he was having some kind of reaction to Brooke’s scratch.
“Good, it will save me the trouble. Where is he now?”
“I left him back at this old farmhouse.
