Page 96 of When The Mountains Held Us

No answer.

Bandit barks again, and I glance over to where he’s pacing a hole through the carpet and whining.

“I know, buddy. We’ll find her.” I want to laugh at how fucking stupid I sound comforting my dog, when all I’m trying to do right now is hold my shit together long enough to figure out where she could be. I dial her number again, and this time it goes straight to voicemail like someone’s turned it off. I grind my molars together so hard I swear I hear them crack, while I rack my brain and try to figure out what to do.

Where the fuck is she?! It takes all of my restraint and then some to keep from chucking my phone at the wall when I call her again, and, again, it goes straight to voicemail. I begin to pace right alongside Bandit.

Think, think, think, Levi.

She worked the bar tonight. Something about Layla calling out last minute and needing the extra money. It was a closing shift, so she would have been there late, but she should be home by now. What am I missing? My sleep-addled brain is wide awake now, but something is not adding up.

Why can’t I fucking think?!

I take a deep breath.

In for three.

Hold for three.

Exhale for three.

I repeat the breathing exercise twice more before the rage reduces to a simmer beneath my skin. I go over every single moment from the last day since I arrived home. Memories of Oakley spread out beneath me, her blonde hair a cascade of golden sunshine over my pillow, fill my mind, but I shove them away.

She missed me while I was gone. She said she missed me, and then things escalated from there. She made me coffee this morning, and then we both went our separate ways. She went to work, and I promised to meet her at the bar before the end of the night, like I’ve been doing for the past couple of weeks.

Breathe. What are you missing?

Realization barrels into me with the weight of a freight train, her words from last night ripping through my confusion and percolating straight into my bloodstream.

Travis is here, in town.

I don’t think he saw me.

I’m dialing Justin’s number, my fingers flying over the buttons before I can think twice about it. It rings once. Twice.

“Come on, Justin. Pick up the fucking phone,” I growl through clenched teeth, my entire body buzzing with a frenetic energy that tells me I’m about two seconds away from losing all control. He answers on the third ring.

“Fuck, man. Do you know what time it is? Where’s the fire?”

“Oakley’s missing. I think her ex took her,” I rush out. Every minute that passes is a minute in which he could be hurting her, and I’m unwilling to waste any more time finding her than absolutely necessary.

“Whoa, slow down. What do you mean she’s missing?” His voice is clearer now, all traces of sleep missing from his tone.

“I mean she’s not fucking here!” I shout into the receiver, and I don’t care that I’m being a prick right now. The only thing that matters is that we find her as soon as possible. Who knows what the sick fucker has in mind for her, and I won’t rest until she’s safe in my arms again. Even if it means I have to tear this town apart brick by fucking brick to find her. I run Justin through the rest of what little information I have, with a promise from him to meet me at the bar so we can figure out where to go from there.

I’m flying down the backroads, my old truck groaning in protest as I push it faster than I ever have before. I’m being reckless. I know that. There’s a big possibility that an animal could jump out into the roadway at any minute, but I don’t fucking care. My sole focus is on finding Oakley and bringing her home safely. I try her cell phone again on my way, but it goes to voicemail again, serving only to solidify the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Flashes of memories of my father beating and abusing my mother run through my mind like a movie reel, taunting me with the possibilities of what I could be walking into. I should have been more careful. Shouldn’t have let the heat of our night together dull my senses and make me drop my guard for even a second.

How could I have been so stupid?

I take the turn into the parking lot on two wheels, my tires screeching in protest when I slam on the brakes and cut the engine. Justin lives closer to the bar and is already here, leaning up against the hood of his truck with worry lines etched deep in his face. I slam the door behind me and stalk towards him. Whatever he sees on my face makes his eyes go wide for a second before he grips my shoulders firmly and steadies me.

“Take a breath, brother. I know you’re worried about her, but if we’re going to find her and bring her home, I need you to calm down.”

I want to shake him, hit him, rear against his reason with all the strength left in my body, but I know that he’s right. I take in a shaky breath and run my fingers through my hair again, the strands sticking out at odd angles from how many times I’ve gripped them in distress. He gives me a moment, waiting patiently with me while I work through my anger, still holding my shoulders tightly.

“Better?” he asks, and I nod once, the muscle in my jaw ticking. “Walk me through it.”