“Fuck.” I stand and pace, fists clenching. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
I’m going to ruin Fallon Mae. I’m going to find her and make her personally apologize to Mina for spreading lies, then to my family for making them believe something that isn’t true.
I mean it was true.
It isn’t anymore.
There is nothing fake about the way I feel when I’m with Mina. Nothing fake about what I feel for Mina. Nothing at all.
Damn it. This doesn’t help me believe the trust I’m rebuilding in the world is justified. When I find out who’s responsible—
My phone buzzes with a call from Dad and I hurl curse words at the screen.
I can’t talk to him right now. I’m too pissed off. Too confused. Too ready to blow. How in the fuck does Fallon know what she knows? Who’s to blame? Where can I direct my anger? Maybe it’s Dom feeding her information…
I entertain the idea for a minute or two, but no, that’s too despicable, even for him.
The call goes to voicemail and I take half a breath of relief before my phone starts ringing again.
Fuck…
This couldn’t be about the article.
Could it?
With a heavy sigh and my head in my hand, I accept the call. “Hey, Dad.”
“Where are you?”
My father has always been kind and patient. After growing up in a series of foster homes—some good, some terrible—he knew his job as a parent was the most important thing he’d undertake in his life. He drew hard lines when we needed them and wouldn’t let us cross boundaries, but he’s never been harsh. Never made me feel like my slipups meant I was a failure. According to Collin West, missteps are part of the human experience. He made sure all three of his children knew it’s not our mistakes that define us, but what we learn from them.
Tonight, Dad’s voice is sharper than it’s ever been. Clipped and tight and concerned.
“I’m at home,” I say, pinching the bridge of my nose. “For now, anyway. I’m taking Mina to dinner soon.”
Oh, shit. Do I really want to be out in public right now? How many people have read that article? I might lose my shit if I caught anyone staring, or whispering, or laughing…
“What’s up?” I ask, shaking my head and pinching the bridge of my nose.
“There’s something I need to tell you and well…”
There’s an urgency about my dad. Something that has my hair standing on end as goose bumps flare across my skin. A rock settles in the pit of my stomach. My heart races.
“Is everything okay?”
Dad swallows hard. “Nick’s missing.”
“Nick?” My ass hits my mattress before I realized I needed to sit. “Missing…”
“Kara and Wyatt just got the call.”
“When did…how…what do we know?”
“Not much. His unit disappeared sometime last night.”
Disappeared.
So fucking ominous. There’s no certainty. Nothing to do. Nowhere to start looking. He’s just…gone.
“I see,” I say, as calmly as if I was going over an application with one of the ROF caseworkers.
But I’m not calm.
I’m numb. I’m terrified. I’m angry. My heart gallops and my jaw tightens and I want to punch something or break something or fly out to wherever he is and lead the search and rescue team myself. It’s what he’d do for me.
“What can I do?” I’m up, patrolling my room. To the window. Pivot. Pass the bed. To the door. Pivot. To the window…
Nick’s missing.
It’s Fake, Folks!
Nick…
Mina…
Fallon…
It’s Fake…
Fuck! Make it stop!
“The family’s meeting at The Hut,” Dad says, jarring me off the merry-go-round in my head. “There’s not much to do, but we want Kara and Wyatt to know they’re not alone. Maybe answer some questions with everyone together so the rumor mill doesn’t distort the truth. But you know, mostly we just want to be together. If you want to help, that’s the best way.”
“I’ll be there,” I say, my voice echoing through the shock numbing my body, then text Mina to let her know I won’t make dinner tonight, explaining that family stuff came up.
I pause just before I hit send. Could it be her? Is she the one who told Fallon everything? Anger tightens my fists. Fury clenches my jaw. Rage tenses my shoulders and I’m ready to punch and curse and kick and swear. A hurricane of emotion demolishing everything in my path. Mina being Fallon’s source makes too much sense…
Except that would mean Dom’s right and I’ve been an asshole, falling for the same shit twice in a row. And I know in my heart that’s not true.
It’s just not.
“Focus on one disaster at a time,” I murmur to myself.
With a terse nod, I press send then make the drive to The Hutton Hotel, my knuckles white as I grip the wheel.
THIRTY-TWO
Mina
