He gives me a sad smile as he pushes himself to stand and stalks out of my apartment, calling out as he goes, “And make sure it isn’t a fucking check this time.”
As soon as the door clicks behind him, I let my head drop down to the ground.
And then I do something I’m so tired of doing… I cry.
35
Nate
Ismile at the woman pointing to the middle seat. Standing, I allow her to take it and follow her back into our row and sink into mine. I buckle the seatbelt as my leg jiggles with impatience.
These people need to get to their fucking seats.
My eyes trail around the plane and see most are full. I pray this means we’ll be taking off soon. It’s already five minutes past our scheduled departure time.
The entire flight here, my gut was telling me something was wrong with Olive. I had this suffocating need to go find her and see for myself that everything was okay. It wasn’t long after we landed that I called Jack. I told him I needed to fly home and I would pay for him to fly one of the other guys to work with Ian until I could get back. Luckily, we’re in Atlanta for the next show, so there are plenty of flights between the two cities. The new guy should be landing inabout thirty minutes. And I’ll be touching down in Nashville in just over an hour.
Jack knew I wouldn’t be asking for it if I didn’t think it was important enough for me to come back, so he didn’t even hesitate.
My shoulders relax a fraction when they announce we have clearance for take-off. And for the next hour, all I can do is think about how much I care about Olive. And how hard I’ve fallen for her. I think about how much I love her hidden strength and resilience that she doesn’t even recognize. And how much she cares about her brother. And how deliriously happy she makes me every time we’re together.
I’m lost in my daydreams of our future together when the wheels bump off the ground a few times as we land. My eyes pop open, and the tension in my body is back.
It takes entirely too long to deplane. I didn’t even bother bringing my stuff when I left Atlanta, so I bypass the baggage claim and make my way outside to wait for Jack to arrive.
As I pace the sidewalk, I pull my phone out of my pocket. I take a deep breath as I connect the call.
I’m preparing myself for it to go to voicemail, so I freeze when Olive’s voice comes through the line.
“Nate?” Her tone sounds haunted, and my heart shatters.
“Olive, what’s wrong?”
Her cries rip me to shreds. “I don’t know where Benny is. They have him.”
I’m trying to make sense of her words as Jack’s SUV rolls to a stop a little down the sidewalk from me. I jog to him and ask, “Baby, what do you mean they have him?”
“They were in my apartment. I don’t know what they’ll do to us.”
A chill runs down my spine as I rip the door open andclimb into the SUV. “No one’s going to do anything to you, Olive. Where are you?”
She sniffs a few times. “I’m heading to Benny’s old drug dealer’s house. I need to talk to him. Maybe he can tell me where Benny is.”
Stomach sinking, I rub my forehead in frustration. “Olive, do not go to his drug dealer’s house.”
Jack’s head whips in my direction as confusion and worry warp his features.
Olive sounds frantic. “Nate, I have to. I know Marcus. He’s kind of a friend. He’s been helping me with all of this.”
“Marcus… What is Marcus’s last name?” I prompt. “Helping you with all of what?”
Jack pulls his phone out of his pocket and connects a call.
“Marcus Murphy. Benny and I have known him since high school. And I dated him when I was in my twenties. He’s done some bad things, but he isn’t a bad guy. Maybe he can help get Benny away from them.”
Ignoring the infuriation I feel when she mentions that she dated this man, I glance over at Jack and repeat, “Marcus Murphy.” When I see him move the phone closer to his mouth and speak in a low tone, I stare back out the windshield as we merge onto the interstate. “Olive, please do not do anything until I get to you. I’m on my way.”
“On your way? I can’t wait. I need to know where he is. I’ll call you if I find anything out from Marcus.” Terror drips from every frantically spoken word. “Nate, I have to tell you something first.”
