Page 147 of Loyalty

Siena knew it for sure then.

John was in trouble.

• • •

Siena was waiting by the door when John finally came up the walkway. His one-hour run, and the promise to bring home breakfast, had turned in to three hours. It was already closing in on noon. She tried not to be worried, but she was way past that point now.

She opened the door before he could even reach for it. His wide smile at the sight of her standing there said he didn’t see a thing wrong. Not with her, or with himself.

Siena knew that was half of the problem. At least for John.

“What happened to getting breakfast?” she asked.

John laughed. “Shit, I forgot.”

“Forgot?”

“Yeah, I got caught up with something else.”

“And what was that?”

John shrugged. “Saw somebody I recognize from way back. Before I knew it, we had been talking for a fucking hour.”

She stepped back, and he walked into the house. He barely even passed a glance at the mountain of boxes sitting in the hallway. It was like they weren’t a surprise to him, but he wasn’t interested in them, either.

“John, these came this morning,” she said.

He waved a hand, and nodded. “Yeah okay.”

“When did you order them?”

“Not sure.”

Siena frowned. “Well, what’s in them?”

“Shit, I imagine.”

And just like that, John was gone from her view and inside the kitchen. The boxes were forgotten, and he had moved on to something new.

Siena tried to work up the nerve to bring up his medications as she headed for the kitchen. Inside, she found him pulling out a glass, and filling it up with cold water. She had been up with him since six that morning. Because of that, she knew he hadn’t taken his medications. He took them at breakfast.

With food.

Always.

He hadn’t done that this morning. She wondered when the last time was that he had taken his meds, or even had an appointment with his therapist.

In sweatpants, a sweater, and with a wool cap pulled down over the top of his head, he didn’t look like the cold weather outside had affected him at all. Like maybe he didn’t feel it.

“John—”

Siena’s question was interrupted by knock at the front door. She looked out the kitchen window, but couldn’t see who it was from there. John dropped a kiss to her cheek as he passed her by, and left to answer the door.

Siena slipped into the hallway just as John pulled open the front door.

A man Siena didn’t recognize stood waiting with a folder in his hands. The color of blood, the folder stood out brightly against the black outfit the man wore, and the white of the snow falling down around him.

“Kent,” John said. “What are you doing here this morning?”