A soft smile brushes my face as I tilt my head to the side. “I’ve never doubted you for a second, even when you’re unsure of yourself.”
Instead of going back to her meditation, Charlotte angles forward to wrap her arms around me. Her head finds a safe haven on my shoulder, and my cheek nestles in the softness of her fluffy hair.
Her voice is quiet, like she’s confiding a secret. “Always be my brother.”
“Always,” I agree, wishing I’d had exactly her—exactly this—growing up.
She squeezes me tight before releasing, sitting back so she can hold onto my hands. Cassia snuggles in at her side, offering as much calm to the room as she can.
If only Gray would stop cracking his knuckles.
Charlotte breathes deeply, her stomach moving as her eyes close. Though it takes a few minutes, there’s a serenity that falls, covering us all with a blanket that weights the anxiety we all feel at losing one of our own.
“Relax,” Charlotte tells me. Or herself. I cannot decide.
Her inhales and exhales cast a net of calm over us all, chasing away the chaos that begs us for attention.
My mind finally settles, so Charlotte can draw on whatever peace remains unrattled inside of me, though there may not be much left. The blank canvas is dark behind my eyelids, but as I keep breathing with Charlotte, small spots of brightness flicker like dying Christmas lights. At first, I don’t understand what I’m looking at, but as the lights draw together and concentrate their illumination, I realize a picture is starting to form.
My perfect princess. My queen. Stuck in some sort of lightless closet. Her fist bangs on the door while she screams something I cannot hear.
She doesn’t belong in tight spaces, nor can she handle the dark, and it’s clear she’s trapped inside of both with no mercy in sight. There is something on the back wall, but it’s too dark to make out the untidy scrawl. It’s clear the lights are showing only me where she is, but that she has no such luxury. Arlanna is shrouded in the blackness. Still, she reaches for the writing as she sobs.
Tears streak my queen’s cheeks, her chest jumping as she hyperventilates and sinks to the floor. She sits sideways. Her shoulders touch both the back wall and the closet door. My chest tightens, imagining how cramped she must be.
Again, I watch her scream. Again, I can’t hear a single sound.
“Ouch!” Charlotte squeaks. As she yanks her hands from mine, the vision fades. “You were squeezing my hands too tight, Paxton.”
I stand, ready to go. Though, of course, I have no idea where. I only know it’s a closet.
I sit back down, mildly defeated. “Did you get anything?”
Sloan ambles back down the steps to the tune of Jen telling him to slow down. Bless that poor woman for putting up with a bull like Sloan when he’s just had his kitten snatched away.
Charlotte rubs her temples while Gray leans closer, like he’s readying for the starter pistol to fire. “She’s north at least forty miles. In a ranch house that’s… it’s buried in the woods somewhere.”
Sloan’s shoulders drop as he sets Arlanna’s pink bag on the floor by the front door. “She’s fine, then. Conan took her to the family cottage. It’s where they used to vacation when she was little. He must be trying to play up the father-daughter angle. If he’s taken her there, I can’t imagine he’s resorted to anything foul.”
Sloan lets out a noise that’s filled with haggard relief, but I’m not celebrating yet.
I stand, putting on my jacket. “Not to rock the boat, but I got a flash of Arlanna while Charlotte was having her vision.”
Cassia stands. “What? How?”
I shrug. “I have no idea. I didn’t see the house or get the feel of the location, but I saw Arlanna. She’s locked in a closet. A real shallow one. She’s in the dark and she’s hyperventilating.” I run my hand over my face, trying to put words to any further details. “There was something written across the back wall of the closet.”
Sloan pales. “It says ‘Sloan is a buttface.’ Conan’s got her trapped in her closet?”
Gray voices the thing we’re all wondering. “Why is Arly in a closet that says ‘Sloan is a buttface’?
Jen helps Sloan button his jacket while he explains. “It’s the family’s vacation cottage. Not the business ‘the family,’ just the immediate Valentine family, plus me. Arly wanted to go ice fishing one time when she was much younger. Maybe eight. I wouldn’t let her because the ice was too thin to chance walking on. So she wrote ‘Sloan is a buttface’ on the inside of her closet. We have to go now. If things have escalated to the point where Conan’s already locking her away, it’s only going to get worse from there. Quick, now. I’ll drive.”
“Are you insane?” Jen shrieks. “You have one functioning hand! You’re lucky to be going at all. I’ll drive, you mule. Honestly. And then I’m taking you to the hospital.”
Sloan bolts out the front door, clearly not caring much if we join him or not.
When Cassia rises, I ask her for the favor I know she won’t like. “Can you stay behind and run the commune? If we all go, there’s no one here to keep an eye on things. We all know that if Arlanna’s not at the camp, you’re the next best thing.”
Charlotte casts her girlfriend a bolstering look, lifting her chin. “I’ll stay with you.”
It’s clear Cassia wants to argue, but she bites her tongue until something less acidic comes to her. “Okay. Leave us with a phone, so we can get ahold of you if Arly’s location changes suddenly.”
Charlotte slides her hand in her girlfriend’s grip. “I’ll keep an eye on Arly’s whereabouts as best I can.”
Jen hands Charlotte her own phone to use. “Take this. Call Sloan if you need to contact us.”
I race out the front door before Sloan loses his patience and leaves without us. I don’t know how he has the gusto to keep going, but I’m not letting him drive off without me. He’s sweating and pale, but even with a limp, he’s determined to get the job done.
Gray and I barrel down the steps of the front porch, throwing ourselves into the backseat of Jen’s car just before she throws it into gear and rolls it down the drive.
Jen works the address from Sloan half a minute before he passes out in the passenger’s seat, and then she stops the car. “Help me get him into the house, and you can take my car to find Arly, okay boys?”
“Deal.” Gray takes the initiative and lifts Sloan out of the front seat like he’s a sleepy toddler, while I run to grab the door. At this point, I would just get in the way if I tried to help Gray move Sloan. Gray is massive, and doesn’t even look winded with the effort.
Cassia scampers to get the bedroom door. Gray lays Sloan down in the man’s bed without waking him for even the smallest window of a moment.
Jen heaves her relief, but keeps her voice at a whisper. “Go. Take my phone and drive as fast as you can. We’ll use Sloan’s. Charlotte will call you if anything changes with Arly’s location. And take this.” Jen reaches into Sloan’s jacket and pulls out his gun.
“Keep it here.” Gray takes the keys and the phone, but not the gun. “We’ll be safe. You make sure you can hold down the fort with that, okay?”