“Ick,” Brady groans. “I forgot how fucking gross you guys are.”
Landon chuckles as he finally separates himself from my friend. “Good to see you too, Brady.” He nods at me. “Chase.”
I return the gesture, pointless male communication that it is. “Did you have fun?” Blake asks without looking up from her screen. I wonder if her fingers get tired…
“Yeah,” Landon says, kicking off his shoes and going to the fridge for a bottle of water. “It was good to see everyone, better to be home.” They share a quick, private smile before he continues. “What are you working on?”
She looks at me for permission, which I grant with a subtle nod. Asking her to keep secrets from her husband would be unfair, especially considering she’s just doing this to help me out. “I’m looking into Easton’s ex-boyfriend in case there’s something we should know about. It’s not as simple as I was hoping for.”
Landon raises a blond eyebrow. “Probably changed his name or is using an alias.”
Simultaneously, three heads snap his way. Blakely swears under her breath. “Why didn’t I think of that? I bet that’s exactly the problem.”
He colors pink under the attention, but I’m wondering the same thing as his wife. Why didn’t I think of that? Ideas are slowly firing up in my head, like a train engine coming to life. More of them than I can keep track of; one getting shoved out of the way by a new one before I can properly examine it. None of them are any good, all of them equate to some version of Easton being in danger. I knew this guy was awful, but who knows what he’s done if he’s changed his name. Not like it’s going to be easy to find out.
“Why would he do that?” Brady asks.
Our NSA agent for hire gives him a sad smile. “It could be anything, hon. It’s hard to say before I find what I’m looking for. No need to assume the worst, though.”
She’s being kind because he’s hurting. I think we all know that someone who is known to be dangerous and violent most likely isn’t changing identities for fun. Blakely is too empathetic to say that part out loud, though I almost wish she wouldn’t be. Someone needs to give voice to the endless fears we’re all suffering from, and I don’t want it to be me.
The problem is, there is no balance anymore. Easton was that for me. He gave me peace when I was in turmoil, and brought light to my darkness. Without that, I don’t know what to do with myself anymore.
A loud vibration pulls me from my reverie. Just what we need, another round of harassment from Brady’s estranged parents. I’m sure it’s them, the slithery feeling in my gut only appears when it is. Apparently he’s at his wit’s end and hands his phone over to Blakely without even looking at it.
“Hello,” she answers. She knows the full background of the Callaghan family. I doubt she’ll be able to get them to leave him alone for good, but she’s mean enough to scare them back into their cave for a bit. She goes quiet for a bit, listening, which surprises the hell out of me. Blakely Ellison is the last person to give a homophobe the time of day. “Are you sure?” Another pause. “Okay, I’ll tell him. Thank you for calling.”
I twist sideways to face her. “Tell him what?”
She only closes her computer, sets it down, and starts heading to the door. “What the fuck?” Brady calls after her, chasing behind like she stole his wallet. Fuck it, might as well join in. I’m nosy.
When she slides on shoes and starts rushing towards her car, confusion doesn’t cover half of what I’m feeling. “Blakely!” I shout.
Brady throws himself in her passenger seat, and no sooner than I close the back door with me inside, she peels out like there’s a fire.
Oh fuck…
“Will you tell me what the fuck is going on?” Brady growls.
She’s got an iron grip on the steering wheel and doesn’t look at either of us as she speaks, too focused on weaving in and out of traffic without killing us all. “That was a nurse calling to tell us that a young man was brought in unresponsive. They got him back, but barely. The nurse asked him about family to call and he managed to say this phone number before he passed out again. We’re going there now.”
Brady’s voice cracks. “Unresponsive?”
There’s not enough air in this fucking car. Or there’s a mack truck on my chest. I’m not sure because Easton is in the hospital… unresponsive. Like, dead. Dead people are unresponsive. So Easton is…
“Hey,” Blakely shouts loud enough to make my ears ring. She shoots a quick glare at me in the rearview mirror then at Brady beside her. “They. Got. Him. Back. As in he is alive. Has a heartbeat.”
“Alive,” someone murmurs. Could have been me.
She floors it, the foreign engine purring in delight. “Alive,” she says again.
Brady’s voice sounds very far away, though I’m not sure if that’s because of him or me. “What happened to him?”
“I don’t know. The nurse didn’t say, but we’re almost there and we’ll figure it out. It’s gonna be okay.”
Doubtful. Easton is in the hospital after being missing for weeks. They had to bring him back, so that means he was… No. I can’t even think it. My throat works as I try to swallow the boulder stuck in it while my eyes burn.
I should have looked for him more. He was close if he was hospitalized nearby. I thought I looked for him enough. We drove to all the places he’d been to in the entire fucking city, anywhere that he might have gone, but it wasn’t enough.
