The blizzard is ramping up in full force by the time I retrieve my earbuds, guitar, and lyric notebook, and return to the loft. I take a seat on the floor beside the window where I can watch the snow whip into a frenzy before it settles soft over the landscape.
Time pushes by while I sit there, thinking, trying to sort out what can be so hard to put into words. It’s a struggle to pinpoint the primary emotion among all the chaos churning inside of me. The one that’s shoved to the surface becomes clear, and I pick up my notebook.
Naomi likes to call me a nihilist. Maybe in some sense I am because in times like this, that’s where my thoughts go. That’s where comfort has always come from; the realization that if everything ends, then nothing really matters. My version of don’t sweat the small stuff because if you zoom out far enough, it’s all pointless.
I was surprised when she sort of agreed with me, but of course, she drew a more positive outlook from it. That if everything is temporary, then you should find happiness in every little thing you can. I’ve watched her do that. The way she closed her eyes and let the music take her at the concerts or even just sitting in the living room. All the times she laughed, her face lighting up at something silly Hatch did. Reaching out and holding a homeless man’s hand. Laughing and falling into the snow. She lives in those moments. She makes them matter.
How much of that did I miss before she taught me to do the same?
As it always does when an idea takes over, the outside world fades away, and my hands alternate between writing and plucking the strings.
Sometimes when I sit still, I can hear the world crack around me.
Hear every word I’d retract.
Every hurt I’d take back.
For her.
Sometimes when I float here, I can feel the universe wrap around me.
Feel every chance I let skid.
Every moment I hid.
From me.
But does it matter?
Oh, does anything?
When all will shatter
under time’s reckoning.
If it’s all for waste
we may as well sing.
And live out the days
in the joy they can bring.
It needs another verse, but it’s all I have in me tonight. The bottle of bourbon is nearly empty when I set the notebook and guitar aside, then lean against the wall, my legs outstretched and ankles crossed. I drain the last of the bourbon and feel its heat rush through me, putting the pain at a distance. The blues playlist I choose as I slip my earbuds in does the opposite, making me feel. Making me hurt for her. For me. For us.
Turning my head toward the glass, I watch the raging whiteout until the darkness takes me.
“Axton! Damn it! Wake up! I’ve been calling you and Naomi and neither of you will pick up the phone!”
Dani’s words don’t register in my still intoxicated brain, but the kick to my ankle jolts my eyes open. The regret is immediate, and I squint under the painful white sunlight. “Fuck.”
“This explains it,” she says, her voice thick with sarcasm as she picks up the empty bottle.
I drag myself to a sitting position and open my eyes just enough to see her frowning face. “What’s going on?”
“I need Caden’s snowsuit. He’s with Clara and Brysen since I didn’t want to bring him out in this without it. It’s freezing out there. Why wouldn’t you answer your phone?”
“I didn’t hear it ring. What time is it?” I pick up my phone. “It’s dead. I fell asleep without putting it on charge.” Not to mention I left the music playing.
Dani starts back down the stairs, calling back, “Six-thirty. Caden was up with the sun. Naomi must be passed out too since she wouldn’t answer either.”
Her words take a moment to sink in, and I get to my feet, a bad feeling brewing. Dani’s eyebrows jump up when I charge down the stairs to catch up with her. “What do you mean Naomi won’t answer? She said she was staying with you last night. Security took her over just past eleven.”
Dani stares at me a moment. “Ax, I haven’t heard from her since you two left yesterday.”
I rush down the hall to Naomi’s room. Maybe she changed her mind and I didn’t hear her come in. Her room is empty. So is mine, and every other room in the cabin. “She’s not here. Who else would she stay with?” I ask.
Dani gives me a sideways glance, and I spit out the name I know she was thinking. “Patrick.”
I throw my phone on the charger and quickly forward all calls from it to Dani’s phone. My attempt to call Naomi’s phone from Dani’s while I put on my coat and boots goes straight to voicemail. When I grab my keys, Dani speaks up, “You won’t get the SUV out. The storm is over but there’s over two feet of new snow out there. We have to take the snowmobile.” On our way out the door, Dani asks, “Did something happen? Did you have a fight?”
“No, not a fight. Let’s just find her.”
Maybe she rented a room or something. I can’t believe she’d stay with Patrick after what she said to me last night, but maybe I’m wrong. I told her we were done. We agreed. Still, the thought shreds me.
I’m off of the snowmobile the second it stops, and I yell back at Dani who struggles to keep up with me. “Go find out if she rented a room.” Maybe she just wanted a night alone. It’d be understandable.
Patrick’s room is right next to Jude’s and he pops open his door when I start banging on Patrick’s. “What the hell, dude? It’s barely seven.”
Patrick opens his door, bleary eyed with his hair wild. “Where’s Naomi?” I demand. Blinking, he just stares at me a moment like he didn’t understand the question. I charge past him into the room.
“Naomi?” He finally says. “She isn’t here.”
After a quick check in the bathroom, I know he’s telling the truth and I don’t know whether to be relieved or alarmed. “Have you seen her?”
“Not since yesterday when we were all at dinner.”
“Ax, what’s going on?” Jude demands.
Before I can reply, Dani steps into the room. “She didn’t rent a room. They’re booked up. She couldn’t have. And she’s not in any of the common areas or restaurant.”
Security.
I grab Dani’s phone and call Gideon. “Gideon, I need to know who escorted Naomi back to the lodge at eleven last night and where they dropped her off. Now.”
He promises to check with the other guys and get right back to me while I rack my brain to think where else she could’ve gone. I’m almost to the point of going door to door.
“Is Naomi missing?” Jude asks.
“No,” I snap. I can’t stand the thought. Not again. Not after what we went through with Hatch. “I just don’t know where she is.”
Dani shoots him a look that keeps him from replying, and Gideon rings her phone. “Yeah,” I answer.
“Mr. Todd. I checked with everyone on duty last night. None of our officers escorted Ms. Wells anywhere. There were no calls for us at all last night.”
The room shifts under my feet, and I slam my palm against the wall, steadying myself. “I heard a snowmobile come to pick her up!”