28
TOBY
The fact that we can’t get hold of Willow or Jamie doesn’t sit well with me. We’ve been trying to reach them for almost half an hour as Asher drives us across town. Ian’s text message said our father was back at Thornwood Manor and Willow had just arrived there.
“Ian!” Cole says into his phone. “Is Willow still there? We’re coming over now.” He pauses, his frown deepening as traffic ahead thickens and cars block the upcoming intersection.
Asher is restless behind the wheel, cursing under his breath. “Fucking hell, there’s something wrong here; I know it.”
“Ease up, brother,” I say, trying to calm him, but I’m virtually helpless, too, relegated to the back seat and seething with impatience.
“She left?” Cole groans in frustration. “Did she tell you where she was going? Okay. Okay. Thanks, Ian. We’ve got it from here.” He pauses again. I can’t hear Ian over the phone, but I’m willing to bet he just asked my brother if everything isalright. “Everything is fine,” Cole says, “I hope. I’ll call you later. Give Dad our best, please.”
He hangs up and glares darkly. “Willow was headed toward your bike shop in Hoboken. She had a surprise for us, apparently.”
“That’s why she didn’t call us first,” I reply.
Asher scoffs. “She knew Dad was coming back to Thornwood Manor today. She must’ve assumed we’d go over there to see him.”
“She still isn’t picking up,” Cole replies and tries calling her again. “All I’m getting is her voicemail.”
“Fuck this,” Asher hisses and makes a sudden U-turn.
Incoming cars skid and screech to a halt. Honks fill the tense silence as Asher steers the car safely in the opposite lane and speeds up. My heart jumped out of my chest for a hot second.
“Are you okay there, buddy?” I manage, my voice uneven.
Cole is speechless, pale as a sheet of paper, in the passenger seat.
“Yes,” Asher replies. “I just didn’t see the point in going to Thornwood right now. Your shop is in the opposite direction.”
I don’t remember the last time I saw this side of him, raw with worry, darkened gaze, tense shoulders, ready to kill anyone who stands in his way. Asher always found comfort and focus in the business side of things, in fine clothes and rare watches, in good whiskey and constructive conversation. Not that he lacks a practical, more brutal side. He just doesn’t like to unleash it upon the world.
I barely register the minutes that pass until we arrive at my bike shop. Willow’s Prius is parked outside, and for a moment, I breathe a sigh of relief. We jump out of our rental sedan and head to the front entrance first, anxiously looking around.
“Where the hell is she?” Cole asks, increasingly more aggravated.
My relief is short-lived, as I, too, try to call Willow on her cell phone. No answer. Asher heads down the street, then comes back up, shaking his head.
“I don’t see her anywhere,” he says.
“This can’t be right.”
“Jamie was supposed to be with her,” I say and call him instead.
It keeps ringing until the voicemail takes over with his supposedly upbeat but actually slightly snarky message.
“Hi! I can’t be reached right now because I’m doing something awesome with my life, but feel free to leave me a message and tell me about yours! Unless you’re calling about a wedding or a fabulous event, in which case, leave your name and phone number, and I’ll call you right back.”
“Fuck,” I hang up.
“Wait, call him again.” Cole stops by the office door.
The cold winds of January rise, throwing specks of snow in the air.
I call Jamie again, and Cole motions Asher to stay quiet for a moment. Finally, I hear a faint, distant ringing. Voicemail again, so I hang up andredial.
We follow the sound into the gangway leading to the back of my shop. The closer we get, the clearer the picture becomes. Asher sees Jamie first and rushes to his side while I slip the phone back in my pocket and run over.
