Uh-oh. My heart sinks into my stomach. My first thought is something is wrong with Cass. Something has happened to him. Panic paralyzes me and I struggle to take a deep breath.
I click on Mindy's name and select the call button. It rings and each ring feels like a fucking eternity. One ring. Two. Three. I'm going to fucking hurl.
"Hey! Have you been sleeping all day?" Mindy answers, and there doesn't seem to be a panic in her voice.
"Yeah, I crashed when we got in this morning. What's wrong?" I ask, the question taking all the air from my lungs.
"Something happened in Oklahoma. I don't have all of the details, but after we left, Cass, Scott, Clayton, and Brock were doingsomething, and it went south."
"Define 'went south', Min." I'm trying to maintain my composure but it's hard when I want to literally scream until my lungs burn worse than my chest does in this moment.
"There was a fire, a high speed chase, and now they're all fucking hiding," Mindy says, exasperated.
"What thefuck!" I shout. I take a deep breath, somehow relieved at the fact that he is safe and okay. He's not in jail...yet. He's alive and well.
"I know. There's always something, isn't there?" she asks.
I groan and roll out of bed, turning on the lamp on the nightstand. I need to brush these teeth. Take a shower. And see if I can reach my fiancé.
"Thanks for letting me know. I've got to call Lawsyn, she tried calling while I was asleep too," I tell her, turning on the faucet in my bathroom.
"I love you, Lil. If you need anything, just call," she says solemnly.
"Love you too, Min. Bye," I hang up the phone and resist the urge to shatter it to pieces.
Mindy is right. There's always something. Death threats. Kidnapping. War. Being shot at. Being beaten. Now, they're running from the fucking cops. Fugitives. I brush my teeth with more force than is necessary then take a shower. I'll call Lawsyn when I've had a few minutes to try and calm down.
I step out of the hot shower feeling like a brand new woman. I towel off and wrap my hair in another towel, walking into my closet to find something to put on. I don't have any intentions of leaving this late, so I settle for a pair of pajama pants and spaghetti-strap tank top with no bra. Because lets face it, if I don'thaveto wear a bra, I ain't.
Dialing Lawsyn's number, I shove the phone in the built-in bra area of my tank top and rummage through the cabinet for something to snack on. I spot a can of chili and I know we've got hotdogs in the refrigerator. I check the loaf of bread on the counter to see if it's still good. It is. I say a silent thank you and slather it with mayo before microwaving the chili and one hotdog.
"Hello?" Lawsyn answers the phone.
"Hi! You wanted me to call you?" I say, pulling my bowl of chili out of the microwave.
"Yes! So, Cass wanted me to let you know that he's safe. Things got a little out of hand, and they're working on sortingthrough some things, so he may not be coming home tomorrow as planned," she says reluctantly.
"Lovely. I figured that, considering the circumstances," I sigh, stabbing my hotdog with my fork.
"Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I'd rather you hear it from me. Cass will let me know when I need to send for you. He said you're supposed to be nailing down a date for your wedding and he isn't missing that, on the run or not," she says and I can hear the smile in her voice.
"Yeah, I bet. Okay, I'm going to eat something and try to call my fiancé, unless he's there with you right now and I can talk to him?" I ask.
"He isn't here right now. But you can always try and get in touch with him, love."
"Thanks." I hang up the phone and just stare at the lit-up rectangle sitting on the counter beside my plate. There's a picture of Cass and I from the Mardi Gras party last year in New Orleans as my background. He's not looking at the camera, he's staring at me with so much admiration in his eyes. So much love.
I dial Cass's number and it goes straight to voicemail. I opt not to leave a message and send him a text message before I lock my phone. I remember that there's a bag of THC gummies in one of the kitchen drawers that Lucy left for me to try a few months ago and I never got around to it. Tonight feels like a damn good time to try them out.
Right where I thought they were, I read the dosage on the outside of the bag. Twenty milligrams in one gummy. Maybe I should start with a half and see how that works. I cut one of them in half and chew it up. The first thing I taste is watermelon and it's kind of good until theweedflavor kicks in. I chew faster, trying to get it down the hatch so I can down something with flavor. I swing open the door of the refrigerator and grab a can oforange soda. I take a few gulps, trying to get that awful taste out of my mouth.
We haven't spent a lot of time in our home since we moved in. We seem to always be on the go, traveling, going to club functions. There's always something. I sink into my spot on our couch in the living room and tug the throw blanket my mom got me for Christmas over my legs. The remote is beside me in the cupholder, right where it always is. I turn the television on and flip through our streaming services until I decide on One Tree Hill reruns. I always restart it at season four, skipping the high school part.
Halfway through the first episode, I start to feelveryrelaxed as my gummy starts to kick in. My mouth gets dry and my eyes are squinted, barely open. I smile as my limbs feel light and feathery. This is exactly what I needed out of life.
I fight to stay awake as the third episode plays, but I'm losing the battle quickly. My eyes are so heavy. I'm asleep before I know it. The feel of someone picking me up from the couch only briefly wakes me. Cass must have come home. The thought soothes my soul, and then I'm out cold.
I stretch out as I begin to wake up, tossing my arm over to feel for Cass in the bed with me. My hand slams into a wall, jolting me awake. My eyes bolt open, looking around frantically. You've got to be fucking kidding me.
