I run up the stairs passing Hunter and Travis who's limping with an arm draped over Hunter's shoulder. I stop. "Travis?"

Hunter turns his head and shoots me a glare. His lips pull back.

"Is he okay?" I try ignoring Hunter's rudeness.

Hunter's fingers dig into Travis' waist. "Get out of here, Addy."

I take a step up the stairs, still facing them. Even though I am higher up I still feel smaller. "Never mind then." I hurry up the rest of the stairs. At least they're leaving. The sun is setting and in less than an hour the full moon will finally arrive.

I'm sure it will end up being rather disappointing.

The front door closes just as I walk past Travis' room. I pause. The door is mostly shut except that the door is only halfway in the rim. He's hurt and I'm not sure how he could have managed to injure himself only from his room to halfway down the stairs. I grab the handle, but it jiggles when I touch it like it's loose. I push the door open and step inside. He's going to kill me.

I reach around the door to shut it, but my hand finds no knob. I look down and at my feet lies the missing bronze knob. Crouching down, I pick it up. My fingers drop down into ridges that seem as if they were pressed in like it was clay.

If I just rotate it this way. . .The ridges line up with my fingers. It's a hand print. I quickly lay it back on the ground. I don't want Travis to know I was snooping even though it's on behalf of him.

The corner closest to me of his dresser bares a dent, and along its top, five streaks tear up the finished wood.

His comforter is on the opposite end of the room than his bed is. A white pillow lies on top of his nightstand, his lamp on the floor beside it. This boy has a lot of explaining to do. I pick up the pillow. I'd make his bed if he wouldn't have a panic attack and yell at me. I go to set the pillow down when I see something that causes my arms to freeze. I squint and adjust my glasses. Blood. And even not having the greatest eyesight, I can see it looks fresh. At this point I don't care what he'll think. I drop the pillow on his bed.

The only logical explanation is that Hunter and Travis got in a very heated fight. I pick up the lamp and a clank follows my lifting of it. A thick, metal chain coils at my feet. They got in a fight and now Hunter has him. Or they have some interesting kinks.

I run out of his room and down the stairs to the kitchen where Mr. and Mrs. Briar are cooking together.

Mrs. Briar sets her spatula on the tile countertop. "Addy, what's wrong?"

"I'm worried about Travis."

Mr. Briar's hand stops spinning the potatoes in the glass bowl he's holding. "Why?"

"Come look."

Mrs. Briar turns off the stove, and they both follow behind me to their son's room. Their eyes don't widen at the sight of it. They simply shake their heads.

"You don't seem surprised."

Mr. Briar shrugs. "He's done this before."

"He has?"

He nods.

"But," I pick up the knob, "look at this. He broke the door handle. There are finger impressions on it."

Mrs. Briar wears a sort of dejected visage. "I guess we'll need to replace that."

"His dresser; there's a dent. And look at these scratches--"

"He did it again?" Hanna steps between her parents.

"You aren't worried?"

Hanna shrugs. "He sees a therapist."

"Are you sure he's going? It doesn't look like it's working."

Mrs. Briar places a hand on my shoulder. "I go with him."

I grab the pillow I tossed on his bed and hold it up to them. "What about this blood?"

She gently takes it from me and removes the sham. "He has occasional nosebleeds."

The chain clinks in my hand as I gather it up. "What about this?"

"Travis and some of his friends help with towing cars that fall off the mountain. That's some of the chain they use." Mr. Briar runs his hand over the dent in the dresser. "It's really impressive to watch."

"So you aren't freaking out?"

Mrs. Briar smiles at me, shaking her head. "I know you two are. . .interested in one another but there's really no need to worry. Do you need anything else?"

I shake my head. Their answers don't satisfy me. They don't explain how he was able to do this. This. . .mess takes strength to cause. Plus I still don't understand why he was limping.

They return to the kitchen but Hanna lingers. I'm not letting a third person I know get hurt or go missing.

"So none of this bothers you?" I ask her.

"Sure it bothers me, but I've just kind of accepted it."

I take a seat on the edge of her bed and she joins me. I stare at the closet. Three of the shutters on it are snapped in half. "What causes it?"

"Anger?"

I need to find Travis. I don't trust Hunter. When I first met him, Travis seemed uncomfortable around him, and Hunter was saying queer things. And then at the beach, he somehow managed to save Travis from the water and make it back to the house on foot before Hanna and me. And we were in a car.

"Do you know much about Hunter?"

She shakes her head. "I only first met him at the beach."

Maybe I can manage to find contact information on him. I'm going to take the pretty safe guess Travis did not leave the house without his phone. "Does Travis have a tablet?"

"Yeah. Let me get it." She jumps up and runs out the door.

I'm crazy. What am I thinking? I'm going to go after Travis? He's going to kill me. But I'm making sure he's okay. I don't even have to confront him.

Hanna returns, tablet in hand. "Sorry it took so long. It was tangled up in my bedspread." She hands it to me, the screen already unlocked.

I locate the app for contacts.

No contacts

Travis. . . He needs to be more organized.

"You wouldn't happen to know Hunter's address?"

She scrunches her face, smiling. "Actually. . .yes. He invited me over."

"He did?"

She smiles this time genuinely. "Yeah. We seem to get along well."

"That's so cute." I'd gush over it more with her if I wasn't freaking out over Hunter.

She blushes.

"What's his address?"

"Let me come with you."

Gang in the woods. Hanna. No, no. "There's no need."

"It will be fun."

"Travis says there's a gang in the woods. He said they'll hurt us."

"We'll take the car."

"You know the talk we had after lunch the other day. Travis and I won't be going on a date."

"It's not like you care."

I rub my forehead. Travis is going to kill me. "Fine."

She hops up, grabbing my arms. "Put on something hot."

"What?"

"We're going hunting. We have to look good doing it."

"Hunting is killing. This is simply tracking."

She covers my mouth with her hand. "Don't ruin the mood. We're hunting down those boys."

I can't help but laugh. "You certainly do make the best of situations."

Her smile widens. "I'll pick out your outfit."

Ten minutes later I'm walking out of my bedroom, wearing my hiking boots, shorts, and a mint green shirt. Hanna is already waiting outside my door, dressed similar to me, but her shirt is navy blue.

"Who's driving?" I ask.

She holds the keys out toward me. "You."

I reach out my hand and she drops them in my palm.

"Did you tell your parents we're going?"

"I said we're exploring."

Hanna's good at directions. She explains the upcoming roads well enough that I'm not caught off guard so we don't almost veer off the side.

It turns out Hunter lives far. His house is at the base of the mountain and it takes us thirty minutes to reach his driveway. The last bits of sunlight have vanished by the time we arrive. I let the car glide to a stop as it bumps over the gravel. Hunter's house is one story, and the driveway faces the garage. A wooden porch lines the front of the house. Wood panels make up the exterior of the building.

Our car is the only one in the driveway, but there is still a garage that cars could be hiding in. We hop out of the truck, the gravel crunching, and slam the doors shut.

"Do you get the sense no one's here?" Hanna asks climbing the steps of the porch.

"Yeah."

She knocks but there's no answer. No sound of footsteps. "Well this was anti-climatic."

We make our way back to the SUV but quickly freeze. A large wolf is positioned in front of the driver's door, growling.

"Addy?" Hanna's voice trembles.

"Hanna?" My voice matches hers.

"What do we do?"