“Right,” she answers with a smirk. “I think you meant to say cocktail.”
I laugh because she is spot on and I give her a little shrug. “I think bars serve coffee, too, so then you’ll both be happy.”
“You know what, maybe I will give her a call.” She turns to her car as she pulls her phone out of her bag. “Have a good night and let me know that everything is okay once you find Wyatt.”
I nod as I watch her walk to her car. “I will.”
As soon as she pulls out of the parking lot, my stomach twists into knots again and I grip my phone tightly as I walk to my car and unlock it. Slipping behind the wheel, I dial Wyatt’s number again and it rings in my ear as my pulse picks up.
“Answer the damn phone, baby.”
When his voice mail picks up again, I end the call and toss it into the passenger seat before starting the engine. I peel out of the parking lot a little too fast but I can’t even bring myself to care right now. The most important thing is making sure Wyatt is okay. I’ll start at the house and if he’s not there, I’ll go to the clubhouse.
What if he’s not there either?
Shaking my head, I push the thought from my mind and focus on the road in front of me. I refuse to jump to conclusions and freak out before I know anything else. One thing is for sure, when I do find him, we need to talk. Not that I know what we are going to talk about but I also feel like he can’t just ghost me like this. I’ve never seen the man go anywhere without his phone so why isn’t he answering my calls? I remember what I told Lillian about not expecting Wyatt to be at my beck and call. What I told her is true and I know it’s not fair to him that I freak out at the littlest sign of trouble but I also need him to be a little considerate of what I’ll go through when he goes MIA. Sighing, I pull down down our street.
God, I am a fucking mess.
When I do find him, maybe I should ask him if he’s sure he wants to be with someone as crazy as me. Though, I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know the answer.
As I pull up in front of the house, my heart climbs into my throat. The Bronco is here but his bike isn’t which means neither is Wyatt. I grip the wheel tighter and suck in a breath as I nod to myself.
“Don’t freak out yet.”
The roar of an engine cuts through my thoughts and I gasp. My head jerks up just as Wyatt pulls into the driveway on his bike. My body deflates and I release a breath as a wave of relief rushes through me. I put the car in park and fall back into my seat as tears well up in my eyes and all I can think about is being his arms. I don’t think I’ll be able to take a full breath until I can feel him. When I glance up again, Wyatt is marching over to my car, a look I can’t decipher on his face but it makes my heart skip a beat. He reaches my door and yanks it open, his eyes intense as he stares down at me.
“Turn off the car.”
I reach forward and turn the key as I study his face. “What’s wrong?”
As soon as the car is off, he leans in and unbuckles my seat belt before gently pulling me out of the car and into his arms. A flood of calm settles over me at his touch but there is this nagging thought in the back of my mind that something is very, very wrong. Holding me so close that it’s difficult to breathe, he buries his face in my neck and releases a breath. I can feel the tension in his body and it seeps into me as my mind spins with possibilities as I wrap my arms around his neck, my chest feeling tight.
“What happened, baby?” I whisper and he shakes his head. His lips press to my neck like he needs the kiss more than I do and my stomach twists as fear snakes down my spine. “Please talk to me, Wyatt.”
He pulls back and looks down the street before meeting my eyes. The haunted look dancing in his eyes makes my heart race and my hands shake as tears sting my eyes. “Let’s go inside.”
“Okay. Just let me grab my things.”
Without another word, he releases me, grabs my hand, and reaches into the car, grabbing my purse and my phone out of the passenger seat before pulling me into his side and slamming the door shut. He holds me close as we walk up the front walk, his eyes flicking around the neighborhood like he’s waiting for someone to ambush us. My heart crashes against my rib cage and tears fill my eyes as the hair on my arms raises.
I swear I can feel someone’s eyes on me…
As soon as we get in the house, Wyatt shuts the door and makes sure it’s locked before he runs into the kitchen. I follow him, my hands shaking and watch as he does the same to the back door.
“Wyatt,” I call as he walks past me into the hallway and he holds one finger up before disappearing into our room. When he comes out again, he has a pistol in his hand and he goes to the window, pulling the new curtains I just put up yesterday back to peek outside.
“What is going on?” I yell, desperate as panic claws at my insides and the tears start slipping down my face. His head jerks to me. The need to keep watch wars with his need to comfort me on his face and after a second, he sets the gun on the dining room table before closing the distance between us and pulling me into his arms. A sob shakes my body as I grip his t-shirt and I can’t tell if it’s fear or comfort taking over my body as he presses his lips to the top of my head.
“I’m sorry, Pip.”
I shake my head as I pull back to look up at him, wiping my face. “Don’t apologize. Just tell me what is going on.”
“Okay,” he answers with a sigh as he runs his fingers through his hair and nods. His mind is spinning, I can see it plain as day on his face and I know something serious is going on but I can’t even come up with a single reason to explain his behavior. Wyatt isn’t the one who gets scared, I am. So what is it that has him so freaked? He sighs again like he’s working up the courage to tell me and nods.
“The guys and I were working at the charity carnival this afternoon and when we went back to the clubhouse, someone had broken in. They plastered pictures of these girls who were killed all over the walls…”
“Wait… what the hell are you saying?” I ask as I struggle to process the words coming out of his mouth. A break-in at the clubhouse and dead girls? Why does the club have anything to do with dead girls? He grabs my shoulders and meets my gaze, keeping me steady.
“You know what the club does, right?”
I nod. He explained it to me the other night but I still don’t see the connection.
“Three girls that we have helped are dead now and up until this afternoon, I was the only one who thought they were connected. Someone is coming after the club and they have been for a while now.”
My knees feel weak as my heartbeat thunders in my ears. “You’re scaring me, Wyatt.”
“I know,” he whispers, a tortured look on his face. “And I hate every second of it but I need you to be scared, baby. Fuck, I’m scared.”
“Who is doing this? Are we really in that much danger?”
He shakes his head and releases me. “I don’t know…”
I open my mouth to try and ask him another question but he turns and heads for the front door, unlocking it and ripping it open before marching outside.
“Wyatt?!”
Frozen in the middle of my living room, I stare at the open door, my heart racing out of control as I try to take deep breaths to calm myself but it’s not working anymore.