Chapter 27
Pane
I can’t throw clothes into a bag fast enough. My mind’s working a mile a minute. Natalie never came home from school. No one can get a hold of Greta. Did she kidnap my sister? Is she holding her for ransom?
I curl my hand into a fist.
“It’s going to be okay,” Rowe says quietly. “You’re going to find her.”
I’ve chartered a flight and am heading to the airport. Rowe’s driving me. My mouth tastes like iron, and my body’s tight with worry. My chest squeezes my heart so hard it feels like my rib cage might crack.
And people noticed, too. As soon as we returned to the party, everyone could tell something was wrong. Guests scattered, heading home.
Some asked what was wrong, but I didn’t say a word. Strangers don’t need to know private Maddox business.
Rowe hands me my toothbrush. “Here.”
“Thanks.” I zip up the case. “I think that’s it.”
“Okay, then let’s go.”
She starts to move, but I take her arm, letting my thumb caress her silky skin. “Rowe.”
Her brows shoot up. “Yeah?”
“I’m coming back.”
“Of course.” She smiles tightly. “I know.”
But she doesn’t. I’m leaving, and I know she’s afraid I’ll never return. “No, I’m serious. As soon as we find Natalie, I’ll be back to finish this.”
“I know.”
But she says it flippantly, as if I’m lying. Dammit, this woman. How can I convey that I won’t abandon her? That I’m not leaving?
The more I say it, the more she looks at me like I’m spewing helium and my words will disappear as soon as they touch the air.
But I’m not leaving. I am coming back.
I’m building something here, and it’s not just the spa. It’s more.
The realization nearly knocks me over.
Holy shit.
I don’t want to leave when this is over. I don’t want to leave Rowe.
I just have to convince this scared little bird of a woman that I’m not going anywhere.
“We’d better leave for the airport,” she tells me, while all I can do is watch in shock as she walks away.
Shock that I’ve realized this, that the thought is in me. That I’m not thinking about what’s going on in Tokyo or Paris, or even New York. I’m concerned about this small town nestled in northern Georgia.
I numbly follow her outside and to the vehicle. She’s talking about how everything’s going to be okay. My heart races from this tidal wave of feeling that’s overcoming me. It threatens to strangle the air from my throat, to floor me right here and force me to accept this.
It feels like I can’t breathe, and when I inhale, a new emotion floods my bloodstream: calm acceptance.
Rowe opens the front door. “Pane, you okay?”
