And he absolutely did not let out a sharp breath when he saw that she was typing.
She gave him a thumbs up and anAllllllll gpppppddddd.
Uh oh. Are you okay?he asked.
In not snot ok.
Anxiety rolled like a stone in his stomach, and it took everything in him not to hit the call button. She wouldn’t want that. She could take care of herself, and she was probably having fun. He wouldn’t ruin it.
Still with Cam?
Nop I’m gggg for walk.
He sat up, thumb hovering.Who with?
My shelfffffff
The video call button was pressed before he had time to think about it, needing to see her, make sure she was okay. When her face popped up a moment later, he knew she wasn’t, mascara smeared down her cheeks and nothing but darkness around her.
Still, she tried to hide it, a lazy smile cracking her face open. ‘Well, hello there. What can I do you for?’
‘Where are you?’ He was already getting up to search for his boots.
‘Where areyou? And more importantly, where is your shirt?’
Right. He needed that, too. Found a crumpled one on the floor by his dresser. ‘Why are you out on your own? Where’s Cam?’
He could see the phone wavering with her unsteady steps, microphone rustling as she brought it to her ear to hear him better. ‘That’s too many questions, Nevis.’
‘It’s two questions, Little Rae. Stop moving and tell me where you are.’
She at least obeyed, giving him a wonderful view of her nostrils as she scanned the area around her. ‘I’m near the loch. Why?’
‘I’m going to pick you up.’ He balanced his phone on the couch to slip on his shirt, unable to keep from grinning when he saw her watching through glassy eyes.
‘Hmmmmmmmm.’
He raised a brow. ‘Eyes up here, love.’
‘Why are youlovingme now?’
Struan was too busy stubbing his toe on the coffee table to offer a reply – not that he had one. ‘Ow!’ When he saw her moving again, he said, ‘Oi! No moving. I won’t be long.’
‘I’m fine,love,’ she slurred.
Except she wasn’t. She was a woman on her own on a poorly lit road, clearly upset about something. He’d seen sober people get lost on the trail surrounding the loch, and knew how easy it was to get injured by the uneven path or, worse, come across the wrong type of person.
He left his boots untied, rushing so frantically to his car that he forgot his keys. He cursed, running back in.
‘Uh oh,’ Rae sing-songed. ‘My battery is—’
The call cut off. Struan clenched his jaw, calling back, even if he already knew what she’d been about to say.
Alone, in the dark, upset, and now without any way of calling for help.
Struan was officially worried.
‘For fuck’s sake, Rae,’ he muttered, peering out into the dark. Even with his headlights casting twin silver glows ahead, it was difficult to make out tree from fence from stone. His knuckles were white over the steering wheel, palms so clammy they kept slipping against the leather. If she’d wandered off or something had happened, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to survive in this all-consuming panic. It was different when he was called out to help strangers; in those instances he could separate himself from what happened to his dad, convince himself that they would be fine because he was trained to make sure of it.
