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“It’s so bad, Dorian,” he said, his swallow hard. “She found my sketches.”
My eyes narrowed. “What?”
“She found my sketches, bro.” He raised and dropped his hands. “And now, she thinks I’m stalking her. She thinks I’m a fucking freak—”
“What sketches, Ares?” I scanned for his eyes, but they averted. I braced his arms. “Ares.”
He stared off, his eyes fucking haunted. “I couldn’t help it.” He pressed a fist to his mouth. “She was in my thoughts all the time.”
What the fuck?
“Ares?” My brow lifted. “Buddy… what are you talking about?”
“I drew her,” he confessed, making me blink. He cringed. “I drew her a lot, and she found all that.”
“What do you mean she was in your thoughts all the time?” I asked, and he wouldn’t look at me again. I made him. “Bro, you better fucking talk to me.”
The words cracked, broken and goddamn shattered. I honestly didn’t even know how I said them without…
I stayed steady. I checked myself. I had to because if I did anything else in that moment, my voice wouldn’t have been the only thing to fucking crack.
“I couldn’t help it,” he rasped. My hands were braced over his shoulders, and he grabbed them. “She was in my thoughts. My only thoughts most days.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t close my eyes without seeing her, and the drawings became the only way I could see her.” He raised a hand. “You said I couldn’t trust her, and I didn’t know if I could trust her.” He swallowed. “The drawings were all I had. Even if I couldn’t trust her, I at least had those. I just found her, bro, and I had to have a way to see her.”
Found her?
Ares was breaking down at this point, his hands gripping mine to fucking hell. He dropped to his knees, and I went with him.
“Ares.” I made him look at me. “What do you mean found her?”
The color had bled from him, like he truly was on the brink of a crash. He faced me, his nostrils flaring. “I have to tell you something impossible, and once I do, you have to help me find her. We can’t lose her, man. I can’t lose her. Not again.”
I had no words, my buddy squeezing my shoulders.
“It’s her,” he said, nodding. “It’s her, and I don’t know how. I don’t, but it is her. I swear to God it is. I even have proof. DNA.”
I gripped his hands. “Who?”
And then he said a name, one I hadn’t heard in years. The name had been buried, gone, and it had to be because too much hurt surrounded it.
My buddy and I had too many losses in our lives, too much heartache. The loss of Charlie and my grandparents before that had placed me in anguish, but at least, I’d gotten to know them. Ares’s hurt was one of the unknown. His was a what-if. He’d never gotten to know the person he lost.
He’d never even been graced with a memory.
Chapter Forty
Sloane
“This is ridiculous,” my brother proclaimed. Sitting up on the bed, he picked up his phone. “I’m calling Callum.”
Well, if he found him, he needed to let me know.
I’d been trying for the last two hours.
I wanted to know if he’d actually purchased the home he’d talked about, and if so, if the place were in any type of condition we could crash at. I couldn’t go back home.
I’d given Ares the codes.
I didn’t think Ares would hurt me, but he did have a problem, and I didn’t feel comfortable going to a place he had access to. He’d basically been blowing up my phone since I’d left his house, saying I needed to call him and shit. His texts all said the same thing. He needed to talk to me and explain, but there was no fucking way he could explain stalker shit. He was fucking crazy, so being at my house tonight wasn’t an option.
