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With a swift and brutal motion, his hand connected with the side of my head, and a burst of stars exploded behind my eyes. The room spun, a carousel of confusion, and then everything went black.
28
Gray
The dust kicked up behind us as we jogged across the yard, our boots slamming against the weathered porch steps. I could feel my heart hammering in my chest, a drumbeat of panic that matched the frantic pace of Walker beside me.
I knew something was wrong. I could feel it in my gut.
“Gray!” Walker shouted next to me, voice strained with urgency. “She's not pickin' up!”
“Keep tryin', dammit,” I growled as we burst through the front door, the screen door banging violently behind us. My hands were shaking, the calluses on my palms scraping against the smartphone—a device I cursed for its necessity. I punched in Eryn's number, each digit echoing like a gunshot in my head.
“Come on, come on,” I muttered under my breath, my gaze darting around the house, half-expecting her to just be there, lounging on the couch with that carefree smile she always wore. But the silence that greeted us was thick, oppressive, and it clawed at my insides.
“Still nothin',” Walker said, his blue eyes wide and filled with the kind of fear you don't often see in a man accustomed to wrangling wild horses. “Went to voicemail.”
“Damn it, Eryn, where are you?” The words came out more like a plea than I intended, the gruffness of my normal tone replaced by an edge of desperation. I hated how this woman got under my skin, how she turned me inside out with just her laugh, her easygoing nature that clashed so starkly with my own rough edges.
We stood there, side by side, two brothers bound by blood and now by a shared terror. The phone rang again, a hollow sound in the empty space, unanswered and foreboding. With each ring, a coil tightened in my gut, a growing certainty that something was wrong. This wasn't like Eryn. Despite all her sunshine and rainbows, she was meticulous, responsible—especially when it came to keeping in touch.
“Call Enzo,” I commanded, my fingers clenched so tightly around my phone that they ached. Walker nodded, his usual nonchalance nowhere to be found as he dialed Eryn’s friend.
“He’s not picking up either,” he called out moments later. His voice, usually smooth and teasing, now held an edge that cut through the stillness, sending a shiver down my spine.
“Outside,” I barked, unwilling to succumb to the images flaring in my mind, images of Eryn hurt or worse. We couldn't afford to crumble now—not when every second mattered.
“Got it,” Walker replied, already heading for the back door. We split up then, each fueled by a potent mix of dread and determination, knowing we wouldn't rest until we found her.
“Please,” I whispered to the emptiness, to the lingering scent that was distinctly Eryn, “be safe.”
I walked into the kitchen and found Eryn's phone laying face-up on the granite countertop, its screen lighting up with each new call, but the sound off. My name flashed across it, the letters seeming to mock me as the phone went quiet again. The silence that followed felt louder, heavier.
“Dammit, Eryn,” I muttered under my breath, raking a hand through my short hair. This wasn't adding up; Eryn was attached to her phone like it was a lifeline to her world. To see it abandoned here, in the heart of our home—yes, our home, our sanctuary—it shook me more than I cared to admit.
I left the kitchen with a grim set to my jaw, my boots thudding against the wooden floorboards as I took the stairs two at a time. My heart kicked against my ribs, keeping time with each step, threatening to burst. The door to the bedroom was ajar, and I shoved it open, not even noticing it slam into the wall.
The room was too quiet, the air too still. No sign of Eryn, just the faintest hint of her eucalyptus bath gel lingering in the air. I searched every corner with desperate eyes, hoping to find her hidden away, laughing at some private joke. But there was only emptiness—a void where she should have been.
“Damn it,” I cursed, a cold sweat breaking out across my forehead. My gut twisted tighter with each second Eryn remained missing. Those worst-case scenarios I'd tried to keep at bay? They were charging through my mind now, unbridled and wild as the mustangs back on the ranch.
“Anything?” Walker's voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. I could hear him moving around downstairs, his presence a small comfort in the chaos.
“Nothing!” My reply echoed off the tiles, sounding hollow. There was no avoiding it anymore; fear had sunk its claws into me, dragging me down into a pit of dark possibilities. I hated feeling helpless—hated it almost as much as I hated the thought of someone harming a single hair on Eryn's head.
“Keep looking,” I said, more to myself than to Walker. I wouldn't stop, couldn't stop until I found her.
I exhaled a shaky breath as I eased into the bathroom, my boots silent on the cool tile. The room was humid but empty, except for that one damp towel hanging limp from the rack. Eryn's towel, no doubt. It should've been a relief, but instead, it was a gut punch—a stark reminder that she'd been here, alive and vibrant, not long ago.
“Gray?” Walker's voice was tight with worry as he appeared in the doorway behind me, his tall frame nearly filling the space. “Look at this mess . . .” he muttered, my eyes tracing the chaos he gestured toward.
I’d been so focused on Eryn, I hadn’t even noticed my room was in disarray.
Walker stepped around the sheet, pulled off the bed, his light blue eyes widening when he took in the sight of the broken mirror in the corner of the room, the shards lying scattered like pieces of a puzzle we didn't know how to solve. His gaze met mine, reflecting a shared alarm we couldn’t voice.
“Who would do something like this?” He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes heavy with worry.
“Damn if I know,” I growled, my own hands clenching and unclenching by my sides. The reflection in those jagged mirror pieces showed a man I barely recognized—someone who let fear creep into the furrowed lines of his forehead and the hard set of his jaw. A man desperate to find the woman who had somehow become his unexpected haven.
