I wasn’t here the last three days, and it’s possible he froze to death already, but I left the heater running, so he should be good. Though, with all the snow and cloudiness we’ve had, it may have died. The solar panels are old as fuck and don’t charge great to begin with, never mind in conditions like this.
I would be disappointed if he died, but I guess it would be done.
Flicking on the light, my gaze goes to the mattress in the corner. He’s covered by all the blankets I left for him, lying still.
“Fuck,” I mutter, walking over and nudging him with my foot. My brow furrows because that shit don’t feel right.
Using my boot, I kick the blankets off. For the second time tonight, I see fucking red.
The bed is empty. Just a pile of blankets covered in piss stains and blood.
I pull my phone from my pocket and bust through the door, racing back to my car. I try to call Snapper on the way, but there’s no fucking service this far out. I put my car in reverse, back up onto the street, slipping on some ice, and then righting myself to go down the road. When I get bars, I call Snapper. He doesn’t answer.
“Fucking piece of shit!”
I call Tommy next. I have no idea how long Gunner has been free, but he’s gone to my house once, he’ll fucking do it again.
“Come on, come on. Answer the fucking phone!” I slam my first on the steering wheel as I press on the gas.
“Hi, you’ve reached Thomas B—”
“Fuck!” I jab the end button with my thumb, then pull up Shark’s info and call him. “Doesn’t anyone know how to answer the goddamn phone?”
“What’s up?” he says.
“We have a big fucking problem.”
“What problem?” he says, sounding concerned.
“Gunner is gone.”
“What the fuck you mean he’s gone?”
“I mean he’s gone! I went to the cabin, and he wasn’t there. He got out. I don’t know where the fuck he is, or where he will go, or how long he’s been out, but he was at my house once, he’ll go again. He’s going to be looking for Anastacia.”
“Fucking—”
“Call Snapper. He isn’t answering me, and—” The phone beeps with a call. I glance at it. “Tommy is calling, I have to go.” I end his call, taking the other one. “Tommy,fuck,where are you?”
“Just about home, why?”
“No! Do not go home.”
“What the fuck? Why?”
“I can’t explain it, just do not go home. Can you get to Snapper’s?” He’s quiet for a moment. “Tommy!”
“I was going there after we stopped home…”
“Just go right there!”
“I don’t know. He said not to go home,” Tommy says to someone else in the car.
“We need to get Anastacia’s things,” someone who sounds like Lucian says.
“You can’t go home!” I shout.
They’re still talking on the other side, but this time it’s more muffled. My heart is beating so fast I don’t know how I haven’t passed out. I’m driving as fast as I can on these roads, but I can barely see and the roads are slippery as fuck.
