“Shit. I know where he is. I’m going now.”
“Noah…” There was a beat of silence. “Please make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”
“You can trust me to look after him, Indie.”
“I know I can.”
She hung up, but that pit in her belly didn’t go away. It sat there, wide and hollow, making her want todosomething. To go out there and help Noah find Colt. But that would be the opposite of help; she’d just be putting herself in danger. And shedidtrust her brother to look after him…if he got there in time.
A distraction. That’s what she needed. She’d shower, then continue the search for her wedding ring. She’d already gone through every storage tote she owned, but it had to be there because that’s where she’d put it. She just must’ve missed it.
In the bathroom, she stripped off her clothes and climbed into the shower. It took her less than thirty seconds to realize this was the worst idea. A shower was exactly where her mind took on a life of its own and a million worst-case scenarios ran through her head. Of what Colt might do to his father. Of the lengths he’d go to, just to make sure his father didn’t hurt anyone he loved.
His dad clearly didn’t shy away from a fight, and Colt wasn’t a kid anymore. He was a former special operator. He was deadly. And he was also angry.
There was also the possibility that Gordon might be armed and hurt Colt.
Her heart rattled against her ribs.
No. He wouldn’t do that. He wanted something from him. And he couldn’t get it if Colt was hurt or dead.
Five minutes. That was all she lasted under the stream of water before she got out and grabbed a towel. Once she’d pulledon some yoga pants and a long-sleeved oat-colored top, she headed into the kitchen.
Coffee next. A strong coffee.
God, what she wouldn’t do for one of Mrs. Gerald’s chai spiced lattes, but that wasn’t an option right now. She couldn’t go out by herself, and it wasn’t like the small town of Amber Ridge had DoorDash or Uber Eats.
Maybe when Colt got home, she could convince him to take her. And a piece of pie. Yeah, she definitely needed pie.
She’d just finished making coffee when she heard a knock on her door.
She frowned. It was still early and she wasn’t expecting anyone.
Slowly, she crossed to the front door and looked through the peephole. The pit that formed in her stomach when she woke to find Colt gone widened.
Sylvia. The older woman held a tray with three coffees and a paper bag. Ben stood by the Mercedes that was parked on the street.
Oh, Jesus. This was not what she needed before coffee. She didn’t feel emotionally equipped to deal with the woman’s backhanded abuse. Or more recently, direct abuse.
But what was she supposed to do? Not answer?
With a deep breath, she pulled the door open.
Sylvia’s brows lifted. “Indie. I thought Colt was staying here.”
“He is. He’s out right now.”
“Out where?”
“That’s a question you can askhim.”
Annoyance pinched her brow. “I would, but he’s refusing to take my calls. It’s why I came over with coffee and breakfast.”
“Well, I’m sorry he isn’t home. He’ll probably be home later. If you’ll excuse me.” She started to close the door.
“Wait! It’s clearly important to my son that you and I get along.” Sylvia swallowed, like the words left a sour taste in her mouth. “So, I think this is something we should work on.”
Indie could have laughed. “Getting along isn’t something you work on, Sylvia. You either do or you don’t. And with the way you feel about me, and the things you’ve said about me, I don’t see usevergetting along.”
