Page 180 of Spicy Ever After
Me not knowing where Hattie is is one thing. Margaret not knowing is a fucking nightmare.
“I-I’ve been trying to reach her for five days.” Hell, why did I wait until now to contact Margaret? “No one’s answering at your house. I’ve gone over there the last two days. I?—”
“Beck. It’s Merrick,” Hattie’s brother-in-law comes over the line. “Slow down. Are you saying no one’s answering at the Mercier’s?”
“Jesus Christ—Jesus Christ—” Margaret sounds strangled. “Baby, call my dad, please.”
Even with blood roaring through my ears, I hear sounds of scrambling. The chaotic sounds of two people leaping out of bed in a rush.
I squeeze my eyes shut and focus on breathing.
I try to whip my brain into shape, make it rule out the worst-case scenarios.
If someone would have broken into Hattie’s house and held her and her parents at gunpoint—or kidnapped them or left them for dead?—
I hear AT&T’s telltale jingle. “The wireless customer you are trying to reach is unavailable. Please try your call?—”
“Gonna try your mom,” Merrick mutters, but I hear it. He’s worried.
Jesus Fucking Christ.
“I’ve gotten through to voicemail on Hattie’s phone, but not every time,” I tell them.
I don’t confess just how many times I’ve tried.
“Beck, h-hold on,” Margaret says. “I’m gonna try to add her to the call.”
“Right,” I manage.
She puts me on hold.
If Hattie’s just avoiding me, surely, she’ll answer her sister. Margaret even has her own musical ringtone.
And with that thought, I’m back to lying on the grass in Moncus Park, holding Hattie in my arms on our first date.
Fuck me, but I knew it then.
I knew I didn’t want our time to end.
I’ve never wanted it to end.
Not a kiss. Not a phone call. Not either of the two nights I’ve slept beside her. Not even the one when she was so drunk, I moved the trash can to her bedside in case she needed to throw up again.
I want to see her. I want to hear her voice, make sure she’s safe.
God, please let her be safe.
“Beck—” Margaret’s voice comes back over the line. I hear relief. “She didn’t answer, but it went to voicemail. Her phone is on, charged, and taking calls. I left her a message, but I’m going to call around. My dad’s secretary should know where they are. He wouldn’t be able to just… just vanish without…”
She doesn’t finish. I don’t think she can. But she’s said enough to give me hope. She’s right. Her dad’s absence would be noticed at his office. On Day 1.
“Right.” I nod, mentally backing away from the ledge of madness. “Right.”
“I’ll call you as soon as I know something,” Margaret promises. “I’ll call you in fifteen minutes even if I don’t know anything. I swear.”
“Yeah,” I manage, suddenly wrecked and worthless. “Thanks.”
I hear the screen door creak behind me just as we end the call. Then the klunk of Pop’s walker.
