“I know, dammit! I know.” I run my hand through my hair. “But that isn’t important.I’mnot important.Sheis. So, either tell me if you saw her or get the hell out of my way so I can find her.”
Uncertainty flashes in her eyes for a second at my harsh tone, but before she can say anything, Mrs. Fernandez speaks up, “She left a little while ago.”
My stomach sinks. “When?”
The older woman’s brows furrow. “Ten, maybe fifteen minutes?”
After our fight. She left after our fight, and now she isn’t picking up her phone.
“Dammit.” Hanging up the call, I let my hand drop and take a step back, my brain working a mile a minute. Her car is parked out front and blocked in, so there is no way she could have driven away. That means she either had to walk or she called somebody to pick her up. “I’m going to che?—”
“She wasn’t alone.”
Mrs. Fernandez’s words stop me in my tracks. “She wasn’t?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “She was with that friend of hers.”
“Maisie?” I ask, hopeful.
I didn’t see Mae today, but there were many people here, and I’ve completely checked out for the funeral, unable to face everybody’s condolences, the pity in their eyes.
“No, it was a male friend.”
My blood runs cold. “Damien?”
She shakes her head and purses her lips. “No. I think they work at the hospital together.”
“Aiden?” Becky supplies.
Mrs. Fernandez snaps her fingers. “That’s it. She introduced him to me one time when we were all at Reading Nook. Very nice boy. They were?—”
Her words trail off for a second.
“What?” I bark out, not in the least bit in the mood to play these games.
Mrs. Fernandez clears her throat. “They were hugging.”
Jealousy slams into me immediately at the idea of another man’s hands on her, but I swallow it back.
You pushed her away.
“I’m sure it’s nothing. They’re friends.” Mrs. Fernandez places her palm on my arm, giving it a squeeze. “She loved your mother very much, and I’m sure losing her hurt Jessica as well.”
“Did she leave with him?”
“I guess so? Becky called me over, so I didn’t see where they went.”
That still doesn’t explain why she isn’t picking up her damn phone.
Yes, she’s pissed off at me—rightfully so—but she wouldn’t leave me hanging, not when she saw how many times I’ve called.
No, something doesn’t sit right with me.
I need to see her.
Need to convince myself that she’s all right.
“What’s going on?” Nico asks as he joins us.
