Unknown number: call me as soon as you see this
Unknown number: emergency
My stomach drops. I press her number and listen to it ring once, twice, three times. Finally, she answers.
“Ohmygodthankgod,” she says in a rush. The background is loud wherever she is. “Josslyn…” Her words break and my stomach twists harder than ever before.
She hasn’t even finished her sentence and I’m already sitting down and taking off my skates.
“What happened? Where is she?” I ask, trying to keep calm despite the chaos inside me.
“She … she went to Tate’s,” she says, and my skin suddenly feels impossibly tight. When she speaks again, she does so quickly, “She called me earlier and told me that if she didn’t call her in thirty minutes, I should call 911. She sent me her location, and I searched and it’s Tate’s family farm. The police have been there but … she’s been in the house for a while and they’re calling this a hostage situation.” Her voice breaks.
I stop breathing. Stop moving. Stop existing, as all of that sinks in. She went to Tate’s farm and now he’s holding her hostage? I can barely wrap my head around that.Why would she go there?Why the fuck…
“Send me the location,” I demand and hang up the phone.
I call Josslyn. I know it won’t do any good, but I call anyway. Behind me, I hear my teammates talking, but their words are just noise. Anything that isn’t about her is just noise. A body crashes into me and I startle and look at Damian sitting beside me. He has the same worried expression on his face I’m sure I’m wearing.
“Did you…”
“Olivia called.” I focus on taking off my gear.
“Barlow, what the hell are you doing?” Coach P asks,walking up to me. He looks at me, then Dame, and back at me. “What the hell is going on? Why are you?—”
“I need to go.”
“We’re in the middle of a game!”
“This is an emergency.” I stand up, whip my undershirt over my head, and spray deodorant before putting on another one.
“What…”
“My sister’s being held hostage by her ex-boyfriend,” Damian manages as he takes off his skates.
Coach P gapes at him. For a moment, I think he’s going to complain about being down two men, but he blinks and asks, “Is she okay?”
“We don’t know,” Damian says, while I say, “She better be.”
My stomach turns.She better be.
“Well…” Coach shakes his head and looks over at our teammates who have stopped talking. “Family emergency!” he shouts and starts clapping. “Let’s go. Let’s go.” He sets a hand on my shoulder and squeezes it before he walks away.
I pick up the pace, grab my shit, and catch Hamilton’s eye as he walks out of the bathroom. He frowns when he sees me, and looks at Damian behind me.
“Josslyn,” I say simply and start walking to the door.
He runs over, his skates thumping on the carpet. He grabs my arm when he reaches me. “Is she okay?”
I swallow hard. I can’t even look at him because if I see the sympathy on his face right now, I’ll fucking lose it. Instead, I nod and walk out. Damian follows. I see the shocked faces from our opposing team and keep walking. Some ask if we’re okay, but we ignore them. I’ve never, not once, missed or walked out on a game.
Not even when I was playing for the world’s biggest asshole of a coach who benched me—even though I was the best player—for saying I could coach better than he could. I didn’t even miss a game when Mallory died. I felt guilty as fuck in the aftermath. But Josslyn? I don’t even know the full story, but itdoesn’t matter. They can write me off for the rest of the year, or kick me off the team, and I won’t care.
Dread pools in my gut as we step outside. I’m trying very hard to not let my mind go to a dark place or think about all the lovers’ quarrels that have led to murder-suicides. I swallow down all of that uncertainty and shut my eyes briefly. She’ll be fine. Everything will be fine. It has to be. There’s no universe in which I exist without her.
59
FINN
