So why would Donovan shit where he ate? Cash was right when he said it didn’t make sense.
Still, it didn’t change the fact that Donovan had hurt me, and although standing me up wasn’t exactly a hanging offense, it still caused a jolt of pain every time I thought about what he’d done.
My eyes slid to Cash’s. “I didn’t get the days mixed up. I’ll pick you up at seven was pretty definitive.”
He shot me a closed-mouthed smile and muttered, “Fair enough.”
“Cash does have a point,” Layla said softly. “What if something important came up?”
“He could have phoned,” Cara cut out. “And he obviously hasn’t called today with an explanation, either, so even if he did get caught up in something unavoidable, his silence says everything.”
My belly jolted. “Well...”
“Well what?” Sophie asked.
“Well, I may have blocked his number at eight-thirty last night,” I admitted.
Layla frowned. “That seems a bit harsh.”
“Harsher than leaving me sat waiting like an idiot with my kids watching?” I demanded.
She grimaced. “Fair enough.”
“Still,” Sophie added. “He may have been trying to call to explain.”
“You’re fucking savage,” Cara added, smirking. “And I love it.”
“Even I would’ve given him twenty-four hours before I blocked his ass,” Kennedy drawled as she approached us with a tray loaded with a huge pitcher and glasses. She set it down on the table and took the spot next to me. “Humor me and unblock him so we can check.”
I took my phone from my purse and did as Kennedy asked.
“See if he left any messages,” she instructed.
I scrolled down to voicemail, went into my blocked messages app, and immediately saw the notifications.
My heart began to thud.
“Put it on loudspeaker so we can all hear,” Cara crowed, glancing at Cash. “Can’t wait to find out if Donovan O’Shea’s excuses are as good as your pathetic—” She was cut off by the door to the bar flying open.
We all jerked our heads around to see the whirlwind—otherwise known as Tristan—racing into the bar.
“Rosie!” he yelled. “We’ve got a situation!” He went straight to the cocktail pitcher, and with shaking hands, sloshed some Pornstar into a glass, chanting, “I’m gagged. Lordy, I’m gagged, and not in the way I actuallyenjoybeing gagged.”
Cash handed Wilder off to Cara just as Atlas hauled to his feet, then their hands slid into their cuts, automatically checking for their weapons.
“What’s the sitch?” my brother barked. “D’ya need back up?”
Tristan held a hand up to silence Atlas while he gulped down the entire cocktail. The instant he drained the glass, he smacked his lips together, banged the glass back on the table, and, through his heaving breaths, he yelled, “Nebraska!”
My eyebrows snapped together. “Huh?”
“Mother Maureen called me to cancel Sunday roast.” Tris’s hand went to his chest, and he tried to calm his breathing. “She’s in Nebraska with Donny, Callum, and Maeve.”
Sophie looked around the table at us all. “Aren’t Callum and Maeve meant to be in Ireland?”
“They postponed it,” Tristan pushed out, his breath still sawing. “Family emergency.”
Layla beamed. “I knew it.”
