Chapter 12

chapter

twelve

Two days passed.

Rylan never called.

Never told her what he found out from Sawyer.

Her calls went straight to voicemail, the texts went unread. She’d thought they’d made peace the other night.

That they could move forward as…

Well, maybe not friends.

But at least civil acquaintances who wanted the same thing—to find Grace and Noah.

So why was he suddenly shutting her out?

Unless… he’d found something. Something he didn’t want her to know.

She tried Ash and got the same. No answer.

She sank into a chair at the kitchen table, her head falling into her hands. The last forty-eight hours had been a special kind of torture, not knowing what was happening with the investigation, if they were any closer to finding Monica and the kids. The helplessness clawed at her insides, a physical ache that wouldn’t ease.

Across the room, Abuela Ramona moved with quiet efficiency, pulling fresh tortillas from the comal. “Mija , your face is longer than the Rio Grande. What has you like this?”

“It’s nothing, Abuela.”

But Abuela Ramona was not one to be easily dissuaded. She set down the tortillas and fixed Izzy with a knowing look. Too late, she realized her leg had been bouncing restlessly.

“Isabella, you forget I’ve known you since before you took your first breath. I can see the trouble in your eyes, the way it drags at your shoulders. This is about that boy, isn’t it? The guapo one with the robot arm and sad eyes.”

Izzy’s throat tightened. Rylan did have sad eyes, didn’t he? Had they always been like that, or was it something new? She couldn’t remember. ”He’s shutting me out, Abuela. I thought we were past this. I thought we were… healing. I don’t know what to do.”

“Ay, mi vida.” With a small sigh, Ramona wiped her hands on her apron and walked over to the table. She sat down and her weathered hands folded over Izzy’s. “No te preocupes tanto. Todo tiene solución menos la muerte.”

Everything has a solution except death.

It was one of her abuela’s favorite sayings. But she couldn’t see a solution for this… thing between her and Rylan. Not when it always seemed they were taking a tiny step forward and two giant leaps backward.

“But he… he hates me.” Would that knowledge always be like a knife in her heart? “He claims not to, but… I don’t think he’ll ever forgive me for what I did.”

“What you did,” Ramona said softly, her tone leaving no room for argument, “was save us. You protected your family. Dios , those men would have killed us. Do you think Rylan’s sister would have wanted you to make a different choice?”

“Rylan—”

“I’m not talking about him right now. I’m talking about his sister. Rhiannon, is it? She was the one most affected by your actions, was she not?”

“Yes.” Izzy hesitated. She thought of Rhiannon and how kind she’d always been. How gracious she’d been when Izzy apologized, even though Rylan had barely looked at her since. “Rhiannon forgave me. But Rylan… he can barely stand to be in the same room as me.”

Ramona tsked. “This boy of yours carries heavy burdens, and not all of them are his alone. Give him time, but remember, his anger is his. It’s not yours to hold. You can’t shoulder everyone else’s troubles like he does. Nobody can without breaking.”

The words sent a skitter of fear down her spine. She thought of the way Rylan looked the other morning, the way he had reeked of alcohol.

Was that what was happening with him? Was strong, solid, dependable Rylan Cross breaking? “I-I don’t know what to do.”

Ramona squeezed her hands. “Siempre escucha a tu corazón, pero usa tu cabeza.”

Always listen to your heart, but use your head.

It was another of her grandmother’s favorite sayings.

“I can tell you care deeply about this man,” Ramona continued. “But you cannot make him forgive you, mija . That is a choice only he can make.”

Tears flooded her eyes. “What if he never does?”

“Then he does not deserve you. You are not the sum of his forgiveness. You have always had a brave heart, Isabella. Even when you were a little girl, you stood up for what was right, no matter how hard it was, and you made an impossible choice to protect your family. If this Rylan cannot see that, then he is not the man you thought he was.”

Izzy opened her mouth to… she didn’t know what. Thank Abuela? Or defend Rylan? She wanted to do both, but her phone buzzed on the table. She snapped it up, hoping it was Rylan.

But it wasn’t.

It was?—

She leaped to her feet and rushed out of the room, shutting herself in the laundry room off the kitchen—the only place she knew nobody would overhear the conversation. Then, she turned on the dryer before answering. “Monica! Oh my God, are you okay? Where are you?” The questions tumbled out in a rush.

“Izzy…” Monica’s voice was a ragged whisper. “I don’t have much time. Did you find Grace and Noah? Are they safe?”

“No.”

A muffled sob sounded on the other end of the line, and Izzy’s heart squeezed.

“Mo, why didn’t you show up to help me look for them?”

“I-I couldn’t. I…” She trailed off, and there was some frantic rustling, as if she was moving in a hurry.

“Why not?”

“I’m being followed.”

Izzy’s blood ran cold. “Followed? By who?”

Monica didn’t answer.

“Does this have anything to do with the man you were telling me about? Julian Graves? Is he stalking you or something?”

Monica made a distressed sound. “Oh, I never should’ve dragged you into this.”

“Of course you should’ve! You’re my best friend, Mo. Tell me what’s going on so I can help you.”

“He’s dangerous, Izzy. Very dangerous. And powerful. I took something, and he wants it back, but I—I don’t know who I can trust.”

“You can trust me . Why don’t you bring me whatever it was you took, and I’ll take it to Ash.”

“The man who fired you for doing the right thing?” The sizzle of indignation in Monica’s voice made Izzy smile. There was her best friend, the woman she knew and loved like a sister.

“Ash is a good man,” she promised. “One of the best I’ve ever known. He can help us. I know he will.”

“I-I can’t risk it. If they have my babies…” The rustling sound came again, like Monica was checking over her shoulder. “Listen, I have to go. I’ll try to contact you again when I can.”

“Wait! Monica, please. Let me help you. We can go to the state police, the FBI, someone...”

“No! You don’t understand the reach these people have. I’m not bringing anyone else into this.”

“Okay, just tell me where you are. I’ll come get you. We can figure this out together.” Izzy gripped the phone tighter as if she could physically hold onto her friend through sheer force of will.

“I can’t. But, Izzy, you need to promise me you’ll drop this. Forget I called and, for the love of God, do not go digging around into Julian’s background. If you start asking questions, he’ll know, and he’ll come after you.”

“Monica—”

A choked sob. “I’m so sorry. I have to go.”

“Wait!” But the line went dead.

Izzy stared at the phone in shock.

What the hell was going on?

This Julian Graves guy was dangerous and powerful. Monica had taken something from him. And now he was after her, possibly holding Grace and Noah as leverage.

But what could Monica have that was so important to a man like that? And why wouldn’t she let Izzy help her? They’d been through so much together over the years. There was nothing she wouldn’t do for her best friend.

She squeezed her eyes shut, drawing in a shaky breath.

Think, Izzy. Think.

Rylan had been looking into Julian Graves.

Her eyes snapped open at the sudden thought.

And now he was suddenly MIA, not responding to any of her calls or texts. A sickening sense of dread coiled in her stomach. What if something had happened to him? What if he’d gotten too close to the truth and Julian had done something to him?

No. She refused even to consider that possibility. Rylan was too smart, too capable, to let himself get caught unaware.

But… he also wasn’t at his best right now.

The fear hit Izzy like a sledgehammer. She frantically dialed Rylan’s number again, her fingers trembling. It rang and rang before going to voicemail.

“Rylan, I know you’re screening my calls, but I need you to call me back. It’s important.”

She ended the call and immediately redialed. Still nothing.

“Dammit, Rylan. Pick up!”

Her mind raced with terrible possibilities. What if Julian had gotten to him? What if he was hurt or worse? The thought made her feel physically ill.

She paced the small laundry room, debating her options. Part of her wanted to rush over to his place immediately to check on him. But another, more rational part knew that wasn’t a good idea. If Rylan wasn’t in trouble and just avoiding her, she’d look insane.

No, she needed help. Someone she could trust. Her finger hovered over Ash’s number, but she hesitated.

No, not Ash. He was too by-the-book, and he might not even believe her after everything that happened.

Who else could she turn to?

Someone discreet, someone with resources...

Zak.

Of course.

She found his name in her contacts and hit the call button.