Chapter 135: TYLER

Harper?”

Her line crackled in my ear, then nothing.

“Hello?” I pulled the phone away, checked the screen, then put it back. “Harper, talk to me.”

Dead.

The hallway noise rushed back in like someone had opened a door. Lockers slamming, voices bouncing, sneakers squeaking across the floor. None of it landed properly. My chest felt tight in a way I couldn’t explain.

“Tyler.”

Jax’s voice cut through it. He was standing right beside me, brows pulled together. “What’s wrong?”

I didn’t answer. I hit redial.

It rang. And rang. No answer.

I tried Racquel next.

Straight to voicemail.

That uneasy feeling in my gut twisted harder. Harper hadn’t sounded normal. She’d cut me off mid sentence, her voice low, rushed, like she didn’t want to be heard.

Jax stepped closer. “Bro, you’re starting to look crazy. What happened?”

I dragged a hand through my hair, already moving. “Have you seen Harper this morning?”

He blinked. “Yeah. She was outside with Racquel. Talking to Peter. I was heading over but she just grabbed Racquel and they left. Why?”

My heart dropped.

“They left?” I repeated.

“Yeah, like ten minutes ago. What’s going on?”

I didn’t answer him. I was already heading toward our classroom, my pace fast enough that people had to move out of my way.

Peter was inside with Kane, Mark, and the rest of the team, talking like it was any other day. I didn’t slow down as I walked straight up to him.

“Did Harper tell you where she was going with Racquel?” My voice came out sharper than I intended.

Peter looked up, caught the look on my face, and immediately straightened. “No. Why? What happened?”

“She called me,” I said, trying to keep my voice under control. “Said something wasn’t right. Then the line went dead.”

The room shifted. Conversations dropped. Everyone was looking at me now.

Kane frowned. “You sure it’s not just bad network or something? You’re jumping to worst case.”

“It’s not that,” I snapped. “I know how she sounded.”

Mark stepped forward. “So what are you saying? Racquel did something?”

“I don’t know,” I said, already backing away. “But I’m not sitting here to find out.”

I turned toward the door.

“Tyler, wait,” Peter called after me. “You don’t even know where to start looking.”

“I’ll figure it out.”

I was halfway out when the teacher walked in, stopping just in front of me to prevent me from leaving. “Mercer. Sit down.”

I didn’t stop.

“I said sit down,” she repeated, raising her voice. “You’ve missed enough classes as it is. The school has been lenient because of your shoulder injury, but if you walk out again, you’re getting an automatic fail for your exams.”

I clenched my jaw, not even turning fully toward her. “Then fail me.”

“Tyler—” she started.

“Ma’am,” Peter cut in from behind me, voice calm but firm. “He has an appointment.”

She frowned. “An appointment?”

“Yeah,” Peter continued. “Just because he’s not wearing his cast doesn’t mean his rotator cuff is healed. He’s been complaining about pain all morning.”

I caught on immediately, grabbing my left arm and letting out a low grunt like it hurt more than it did.

Jax stepped in, folding his arms. “You know he’s the captain. And Westfield’s golden boy. He doesn’t need to sit through one class to pass.”

The teacher looked between us, clearly weighing it, her patience thinning.

She opened her mouth to respond, but someone appeared at the doorway.

Racquel.

She looked wrecked. Hair slightly messy, eyes red, breathing uneven like she’d been running.

My gaze flicked past her instinctively, searching for Harper. She wasn’t there.

My chest went cold.

I pushed past the teacher and grabbed Racquel by the shoulders. “Where is she?!”

Heads turned. The room went completely quiet.

“Tyler—” Racquel’s voice shook, her words stumbling over each other. “He’s mad… he’s really mad…”

“Who?” I snapped. “Where is Harper?!”

“My stepbrother,” she cried. “He took her. He told me to come get you. He said… he said if I didn’t, he’d—”

Everything around me faded into a dull hum.

This was exactly what I’d been trying to avoid. Exactly why I didn’t want Harper anywhere near this.

I forced my voice down, even though my chest felt like it was caving in. “Where is she?”

Racquel swallowed hard. “He took her to an uncompleted building. On Crestview Road. Plot seventeen. The one that’s still under construction.”

I was already pulling out my phone.

My dad picked up on the second ring. “Tyler?”

“He has Harper,” I said, my voice tight. “Racquel’s stepbrother. He took her to a construction site on Crestview Road.”

There was a pause, then his tone shifted instantly. “Don’t move. I’m calling the police right now. Wait for us.”

“I’ll send you the address.”

“Tyler, wait—”

I hung up.

There was no way I was waiting.

I turned and walked out hurriedly.

Footsteps followed me, but I didn’t care. I pushed through the doors and headed straight for the parking lot, keys already in my hand.

Racquel got into the front seat without asking. The back doors flew open, and Peter, Jax, Kane, and Mark squeezed themselves in.

“Drive,” Peter said.

I didn’t argue. The engine roared to life, and I pulled out rougher than I should have.

“Directions,” I said, not taking my eyes off the road.

Racquel nodded quickly, her hands shaking in her lap. “Take the next left… then keep going straight.”

“What exactly happened, Racquel?” Jax asked from the back.

Racquel’s voice trembled. “We stopped at a gas station. Harper wanted to use the restroom. He was there… I didn’t even know he’d find us. He grabbed her, and she tried to call Tyler, but he hit her. He told me to bring you or he’d kill her.”

“Damn,” Kane muttered. “We know that place. It’s been empty for months.”

“Then we don’t rush in blind,” Mark added. “We need a plan.”

They kept talking, throwing ideas around, but it all sounded distant. None of it stuck.

All I could see was Harper.

Her voice on the phone.

I pressed harder on the accelerator.

By the time we pulled up, my hands were gripping the wheel so tight my knuckles hurt.

The building loomed ahead, unfinished and hollow, like a skeleton left out in the open. Exposed concrete, broken edges, silence that didn’t sit right.

“Upstairs,” Racquel said quickly, already opening her door.

We moved fast.

Every step inside echoed. Dust shifted under our shoes as we climbed, the air thick and still.

“Harper!” I called, my voice bouncing off the walls.

No answer.

We reached the upper floor, and that was when I saw her. My chest nearly gave out.

A man in a mask stood near the edge, one arm wrapped around her, a knife pressed against her neck. Harper’s hands were bound, her face pale, her eyes wide when they landed on me.

“Tyler—”

“Let her go,” I said immediately, stepping forward. “You want someone, take me. She has nothing to do with this.”

The man laughed, low and mocking. “You always like interfering, don’t you?”

Something about his build felt off. Bigger than I remembered. But I didn’t have time to think about that.

“She wasn’t involved,” I said. “This is between you and me.”

Racquel stepped forward too, crying. “Please, just let her go.”

“Yeah, man,” Peter added. “There’s no need for this.”

The guy shook his head slowly. “You’re going to watch her die. And there’s nothing you can do about it.”

My chest tightened.

He moved backward, dragging Harper with him until they were right at the edge. Then he lifted her over the railing.

“Wait—!”

He let go.

Harper’s hands caught the metal, her body dangling over open air, a crane structure behind her, nothing but a drop beneath.

“Tyler!” she cried, struggling to hold on.

I moved.

A gunshot rang out behind us.

We all froze.

Another man stood at the entrance now, a gun aimed straight at us. “Nobody move.”

The one with the knife laughed. “Now this is interesting. Who do you save? Your friend…or your girlfriend?”

The man with the gun grabbed Racquel, pulling her back against him. She let out a scream, shaking.

“Be careful,” he said. “You just might lose both.”

My mind blanked.

Harper was slipping.

Racquel was crying.

My friends were tense behind me.

There was no time to think of any solution.

I collapsed in a heap, dropping to my knees. “Take me,” I said, my voice breaking. “J-Just save her. Please. Don’t take her from me.”

Something shifted behind me.

A click.

Cold metal pressed against the back of my head.

Harper’s voice broke through, panicked. “Tyler—”

I turned slightly.

Racquel stood there. The gun in her hand. Pointed at me.

Everything inside me went still.

“Racquel…” I said, my voice low, confused. “What are you doing?”

“Shut up,” she snapped, her eyes wild. “Why does it always have to be her?”

No one moved.

“You ruined my life,” she continued, her voice rising. “Got me suspended. Made everyone hate me. And I still chose you. I tried everything. Even pretending to be the victim just so you’d look at me again.”

Her grip tightened on the gun.

“But it’s always Harper.”

My chest felt hollow.

“My plan was simple,” she said, almost laughing now. “You’d watch her die. I’d be there for you. And you’d come back to me.”

“Racquel,” Mark said carefully, stepping forward. “If you do this, there’s no coming back from it.”

“I don’t care,” she shot back.

She turned the gun toward Harper.

The masked guy frowned. “That wasn’t the plan.”

Racquel fired near him, and he flinched back instantly. “Shut up.”

She walked closer to the edge, her eyes locked on Harper like nothing else mattered. “I hope you rot for ruining everything.”

Her hand lifted, the gun aimed straight at her.

I didn’t think. I just moved.

I grabbed her arm from behind, trying to jerk it away from Harper.

The gun went off.

The sound echoed through the building, loud enough to make everything else disappear.

Harper gasped.

For a moment, no one moved. It was like the world held its breath.

Then I saw it.

Blood.

It spread across her shoulder, too fast, too bright.

My chest clenched. “Harper!”

Her grip slipped.

Mark lunged forward instantly, catching her just as she started to fall. Peter grabbed onto her shoulder, both of them straining as they pulled her back over the railing.

I barely saw it.

I had already turned.

Racquel was still standing there.

Something in me snapped.

I stepped forward and punched her, my fist connecting hard enough to send her stumbling back. Blood spilled from her lip, and she stared at me like she couldn’t believe what I’d just done.

I didn’t stop.

I moved toward her again, ready to hit her harder this time, ready to make her feel even a fraction of what she’d just done, but Jax grabbed my arm.

“Tyler, stop. The police are here. Let them handle it.”

Sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder.

I barely heard him.

All I could think of was Harper.

Mark was carrying her now, her body limp in his arms, blood soaking through his shirt.

My chest caved in.

I turned away suddenly, staggering a few steps before I bent over and threw up, my body rejecting everything at once, like it couldn’t process what I was seeing.

My hands braced against my knees, shaking.

I couldn’t take it.

Not her.

Not like this.

Please God.