28. Dana

Chapter 28

Dana

" B en!"

I rushed down the hallway, slipping past a woman carrying a stack of papers as she gave me a look that said, "You don't belong up here." Even though I looked the part of a tour guide, even though I technically only had clearance to be up here if I was going from point A to point B, I didn't give a shit.

Cole had been gone for four fucking days. No texts, no calls, nothing. He'd taken off so quickly at the launch that none of us could keep up with him, and by the time Grayson and I piled into a car, leaving Penny with Hunter and Lottie, we didn't even know which direction to head. We'd checked every liquor store in Boulder, checked his house, checked the apartment he'd left abandoned last year.

Gray had to calm me down when I saw the sheer amount of empty bottles scattered across the floor of it.

"He hasn't been here since before rehab , " he'd said. "He gave me the only set of keys."

But something in the pit of my stomach just knew .

"Dana?" Ben asked in confusion, his brow raising as I finally caught up to him. "You're not supposed to be up here."

"Have you seen Cole?" I asked, catching my breath as I clung to the loose sleeve of his ill-fitting suit jacket for support. "He's not in his office. I've checked every damn day this week?—"

"He's not in." Both brows rose as he took a step back, taking away my support. "He sent me an email a few days ago saying he was taking some time off and left me to deal with all this launch shit."

Time off ? "What?"

"He didn't tell you?"

"No, he didn't fucking tell me," I huffed, bearing my weight with both hands on my knees.

"But I thought you guys were like…"

"Together? Me too."

"I was going to say hooking up but I guess that's kinda the same thing." He tilted his head to the side as he watched me, his ponytail of wiry brown hair swooping along with the movement. "You should go back downstairs. And get a new vest. You've got a tear at the shoulder."

God, I was going to kill them both.

Defeated, angry, and hurt, I took the elevator back down before my next tour of the day. I'd barely had any time to spare in between them now—with the word getting out about the new flavors and us promoting testers on the tours—slots had filled up in record time. But my feelings were changing from worry to just being plain upset.

I nearly lost my mind trying to fish out the vibrating phone in my pocket.

The screen didn't show me the name I wanted it to, though. Instead, it said Grayson, and although it wasn't Cole, it was close enough.

"Please tell me you found him," I said quietly, squeezing past another tour guide before slipping into the vest room.

"Nothing yet," he sighed. "I did manage to get in contact with his parents, though. Hoped maybe they'd have some information but they didn't."

My eyes nearly bulged from my skull as I leaned against the wall, checking my watch to make sure I wasn't late. "You talked to them? What did they say?"

I could hear the sound of a crash in the background, followed by a few loud giggles from his daughter and a frustrated grunt from Gray. "Penny… no, never mind, sweetheart. It's fine," he said, his attention elsewhere. I had five minutes. I needed him to hurry this up. "Nothing that I didn't already know. They're disgusting people, if you ask me. Couldn't have cared less that their son was missing."

"What do you mean by ‘nothing you didn't already know?'"

"Just that they said he was probably off at a bar somewhere. Which, if they'd said that nine months ago, I wouldn't have batted an eye. Not that I don't care, it just wouldn't surprise me."

The taste of iron burst into my mouth. Must have bit through my lip. "Have you checked them?"

"What?"

"The bars, Gray," I breathed. "His usual hang outs. Any others."

"I have. Just in case," he said. "Came up empty."

I pulled a fresh vest from the cupboard, inspecting it to keep my hands busy so I wouldn't go insane. "Do you think he's drinking again?"

He hesitated before he spoke and my stomach fucking dropped. "No, Dana, I don't. I know what he's like when he's drinking, and this isn't it."

I clutched the vest in my hand, crumpling the fabric. "I just don't understand." In truth, it felt more like he was covering for his friend, not wanting to worry me.

"This shit with his parents, it runs deep. I'm shocked it took him this long to go off the grid, to be honest," he sighed. "Penny, please stop saying shit."

I let him wrangle his daughter as I glanced at my watch again. Three minutes.

"I don't know how much you know about it," he continued, "but they practically abandoned him, leaving him with his aunt when he was thirteen. Dropped him off and never looked back." My chest tightened. I knew he had issues with them, knew they were a painful thing for him to talk about, but I didn't know that. "Couldn't be bothered to actually parent him, wanted to spend their forties exploring the world. They didn't visit, call, or even write. They just pretended he didn't exist."

"God," I breathed. I didn't know what to say, or think, or feel. All I wanted to do was find him and hug him, tell him he didn't have to deal with this alone, and then go and beat his parents' faces in for him.

No wonder he'd wrapped his hand around his father's throat.

"He's got a lot going on, Dana. With work and now this, he's cracking under the stress."

"Are there any signs exclusive to him when he's drinking?" I asked as the clock ticked down to one minute. "So I know what to watch for."

He took a deep breath, silence hanging heavy before he spoke again. Forty seconds . "Aggression. Quick temper. Irritable. You'll be able to smell the booze on him, he's not good at hiding that. For the most part, he looks and acts sober, unless he's really wasted. Then he's just unhinged."

"And that's not what he is right now?"

"This is different, Dana."

"How?"

"He's—" his voice cut off for a second, and then he was swearing under his breath. "Shit. I've got to go. Cole's calling."

"He's calling you?" I snapped, the vest falling from my open palm. My breath caught in my throat. Why isn't he calling me?

"I'll let you know what he says. But I have to take this. Talk later."

————

I'd barely been able to contain my frustration through every stupid fucking tour of the day.

I slid into the driver's seat of my Camry, exhausted and angry. Between every tour, I'd tried to call Cole. No answer. Tried Grayson. No answer.

My phone was nearly dead from the amount of calls I'd made.

I turned the key in the ignition as I searched through my purse for my charger but came up empty. Shit. Must have left it in the diaper bag.

It was fine. I'd be home in twenty minutes and could resume angry calling there.

————

Twenty minutes turned into forty. Then fifty. Then an hour.

Traffic was backed up as far as I could see down the main road that cut through the center of Boulder. My radio didn't work and my phone was long dead. I had nothing but my stupid, relentless thoughts to keep me entertained.

And boy, did they.

I couldn't stop wondering why Cole wasn't talking to me. Couldn't stop thinking the worst, wondering if he was knee-deep in a bender he couldn't get out of and didn't want my help. Had he talked to Grayson before today? Was Grayson keeping shit from me? Or was he being honest and that's why he wasn't picking up my calls anymore, because he was trying to get Cole back?

I leaned forward, resting my head on the steering wheel.

He had to have relapsed. I didn't care what Gray said. The signs were there. Aggression: he'd nearly strangled his father, though I guess I would have done the same if it were me so I could cancel that one out. The smell: I hadn't gotten the chance to smell his breath when he fucked me. He'd swerved every attempt I'd made to kiss him. The running away: Mom had done that numerous times when things got bad.

He had a lot of reasons to relapse right now.

My thoughts turned to Drew, to how I'd seen how happy both he and Cole were back in Costa Rica when we were able to play family. I should have told him then. Should have done a lot of things differently but that was the main thing I wished I could change. Part of me wanted to just call Cole right now and tell him, even if it had to be in a voicemail. I could use it as bait to get him to speak to me again, but my phone was dead and I had no way of knowing whether or not he was checking voicemails.

Was it even worth telling him anymore?

If he'd relapsed, could I even have him around Drew?

My brain hurt thinking about it all.

An hour turned into nearly two by the time I pulled into the neighborhood, the backs of my eyes burning and my hands shaking from too much time alone with my thoughts. I could have walked home in half the time.

Red and blue lights lit up my street from the main road. Maybe someone had run over Robert. One could hope.

But as I got closer to home they grew brighter, and louder, and angrier?—

No.

No, no, no.

They were at my fucking house.

I slammed the brakes and sprung from the car, running past the ambulance and the two Boulder Police Department cars out front. Adrenaline and fear carried me, all of my exhaustion gone, and by the time I made it to my front lawn, two EMTs were wheeling out a stretcher through my front door.

Drew lay still in the center of it.

I didn't hear the scream that ripped from my throat, didn't feel the grass hit my knees, but my sister was on me in seconds.

"He's okay," she said, but it didn't quite reach me.

"Oh my god, oh my god," I breathed, the words falling from my mouth over and over as if I were a churchgoer desperate to redeem myself. But this wasn't church. This was my front yard and my fucking son was being put into an ambulance.

"I tried to call you, several times," Vee said as she wiped her tears. "He, you know, he spiked a fever and I couldn't wake him up, and it kept going up, and you weren't home, and I didn't know what else to do."

"Ma'am, are you the mother?"

I glanced up, meeting the eyes of a middle-aged woman in a police uniform with a younger first responder behind her. "Yes."

"We're checking your son's vitals and then heading straight to Foothills ED. You can join us in the ambulance."

What is happening?

"Ma'am?"

"Just fucking give me a moment to process," I snapped. My hands shook violently as Vee helped me from the ground. "My bag," I said to her, glancing back at the car.

"I'll get it." She took my keys from where they lay in the grass and high-tailed it to where I'd left the car in the center of the road.

I should have taken him back to the doctor. I should have gotten a second opinion. I should have. I should have. I should have.

Two more EMTs came out from my house, and behind them, two figures dressed in plain clothes. I barely gave them a passing glance as I made my way toward the ambulance, all cylinders fucking firing, all thoughts blurring and mingling, turning into my worst nightmare.

"Dana."

I turned and immediately wished I hadn't.

The two figures in plain clothes were my fucking parents, walking out of my house, with my son's giraffe in my mother's grip.

I was going to kill Vee.