Page 33 of At The End Of The Day

We are very, very concerned, the husband interjected solemnly. This just isn’t like him, at all.

The woman returned, staring at the camera with a stoic gaze. Authorities have found a rental car under Warren’s name abandoned at the Mobile Regional Airport. Inside, they located his wallet and all his belongings, as well as his computer and cellphone. At this moment, there is no indication of where he might be, but his known history with substance abuse is not being ruled out as to a motive of his disappearance. If anyone has any information to his whereabouts, please contact your local police. You may remain anonymous.

In other news, a multi-car pileup on the I-75—

She paused the live stream, turning to look at us, our horrified, blank stares matching. “Oh, shit,” she rasped, trembling slightly.

I coughed and stretched to set the half empty can on the mantel. Avoiding eye contact, I mumbled, “Tiny, can you take the kids outside for a while?”

“Yeah, c’mon, babies. Let’s go. Who wants to go check out that cave again?”

“Yeah!” Eddie hollered, always ready for an adventure.

Edwina was pouting, staring at Tyler. Though she was suspicious of his presence at first, she was quickly warming up to him. As I cast a sideways glance at him, I could relate. The man was hard to hate. “Is everything okay?”

He nodded stiffly. “It’s fine, honey. It’s just a big mix up, but everything is fine.”

“Come on,” Violetta sang, trying to act aloof. Wiggling her fingers, she flashed a phony smile, her eyes frantic. “Let’s go before it gets too hot. Come on. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Her chin quivered a bit as their gaze lingered before she strolled to her mother. Taking her hand, she finally looked away and walked through the back door to the deck.

“What do we do, man?” he asked quietly as soon as we were alone.

“Dunno, man. Don’t…fucking know. C’mon.”

I jogged up the couple steps to the brick floor and hurried to the foyer, pivoting around the railing to sprint upstairs. He tried to keep up, but his knee only let him hobble, which deepened my sense of grief this morning. At the door, I paused to let him catch up, limping to my bedroom.

Vincent was puffing on a cigarette, frantic, just as rattled as we were when we entered.

“What now?” I asked, shrugging my arms out.

“Well, he’s gotta call them, obviously. We can’t have cops sniffing around, looking. They’re already breathing down our backs because of Cathy.”

A surge of adrenaline shot to my brain and sank my heart at his slip. Shooting Tyler a wayward glance, I prayed he hadn’t picked up on that. As far as the bitch needed to know, my wife was still alive and healthy. Somewhere.

Vincent lunged for the desk, rummaging through the drawer for the disposable phone. “You know your uncle’s phone number?”

“Of course.”

Standing upright, he sneered. “Look, asshole. These days, most people don’t bother to memorize numbers since everything is saved in their phone. Don’t get a fucking attitude.”

Immediately bowing down, he held his palms out. “You’re right. Sorry.”

“Here.”

He took the phone and started dialing. “And what should I tell him?”

“I don’t fucking care. Whatever you think will get him to back off.”

Groaning, he brought the device to his ear and held his breath, waiting. “Uh, h-hey…Uncle John.”

Someone shouted but we couldn’t hear what they were saying. When he looked at us, Vincent circled his wrist, motioning him to put it on speaker. He did and held the phone out in front for all of us to look at.

“Do you have any idea what we’ve been going through over here? Where the fuck have you been?”

He grimaced and turned red, acting like a little boy being scolded. It gave a teeny bit of insight into why he acted the way he did. He was still on that tether, being led around by his parents. I knew that feeling, all too well, unfortunately. Yet another brick chipped away from the wall, letting me not only hate him less but appreciate his struggles.

“Roman, stop it. Ty, honey. Are you safe?”