Take It On The Run

Chapter 4

POV: Sumner

I'd just finished playing a set and went to grab a drink at the bar when I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. 

I retrieved the device as I held a finger up to the bartender, who immediately brought me a shot of gin. I stared down at the string of missed calls and texts, signaling the pretty woman behind the counter for a refill as I began scrolling through some of the correspondences.

Aside from my bandmates, I didn't have a lot of friends beyond the guys, although I suppose it could've been family trying to reach me. I brought home the occasional stray groupie a handful of times every month, but that was about it. So I already had a pretty good inkling of whom all of the messages were from.

I nearly choked on the second shot, spluttering as I read the first text from Deacon: "Sloan is here. She's been alive this whole time."

Understandably, the group chat had descended into chaos from there.

"Christ," I cursed.

Sloan Dawson was alive.

When they'd found the bloody crime scene at her mother's house, we all just assumed that something awful had befallen her. At sixteen, we couldn't exactly run off and investigate a missing person's case related to a homicide. The police had assured us that they'd discovered enough blood to know that Sloan couldn't have survived the attack. And we'd believed them.

Guilt swarmed me.

How could we not have even tried to find her?

It was no secret that we'd all been in love with Sloan in our own way. She was this beautiful, fiery light in the world who'd made each of us better by merely existing. The day I'd believed she died, I gave up on the notion of ever finding love. Now that I knew she was alive, a flicker of hope sparked.

As a pianist, I didn't have any equipment to load up, so I quickly excused myself from my bandmates and jogged the few blocks to my car.

The group chat had said that Deacon was bringing Sloan back to the house, and I couldn't wait another second to see her with my own eyes.