Page 36 of Unfinished Noise

“Fucking voicemail,” Spencer said, pacing hard enough to shake the floor.

“Same with Alfie,” Nathan muttered, listening to his own call drop.

Spencer pressed his palms to his eyes, trying to breathe, trying not to panic. But the truth hit him like a punch: Jamie was gone. Alfie was gone. And Spencer had no idea why they left without discussing it first.

Spencer’s pulse hammered in his ears as he paced the hotel room, phone clutched so tight his fingers hurt. Every second of silence from Jamie felt like another crack splintering through his chest.

Spencer dragged a hand through his hair. “They didn’t just vanish. They had to get home somehow.”

Nathan frowned. “Not good. I asked Farlan if Billy had heard from them, but he didn’t.”

“Jamie wouldn’t steal a car,” Spencer snapped, then immediately regretted the edge in his voice. He wasn’t angry at Nathan—he was terrified something had happened to Jamie and Alfie.

Farlan stepped into the doorway, face pale. “I checked with the front desk. They didn’t ask for a cab. No shuttle either.”

Spencer’s stomach twisted. “So how the hell did they leave?”

Farlan leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “Maybe they took a bus.”

Spencer froze. A bus. Jamie hated buses. He only took them when he was scared or overwhelmed, or when he needed to get away fast.

Spencer grabbed his phone again, scrolling through the last messages Jamie had sent him. The little heart emoji from earlier felt like a punch now.

“Why would he go home?” Spencer whispered. “Why wouldn’t he tell me?”

Nathan stepped closer. “Maybe he thought he was helping. You know how Jamie is—he doesn’t want to be in the way.”

Spencer shut his eyes. That hurt more than anything. Jamie thought he was a burden. Jamie thought Spencer’s dream mattered more than him.

He opened his eyes and grabbed his jacket. “I need to call the ranch.”

Billy blinked. “You think they went there? They would have to fly there.”

Spencer swallowed hard. “If Jamie wanted somewhere safe… somewhere quiet… somewhere he knows I’d find him eventually…” His voice cracked. “Yeah. The ranch.”

He called the Saddle Creek Ranch with shaking hands. It rang. And rang. And rang. No answer.

Spencer’s chest tightened. “Come on, come on, pick up—”

Voicemail.

He hung up and immediately called again. Same result.

Nathan watched him, worry etched across his face. “Spencer—”

“I’m calling the bus depot,” Spencer said, already searching for the number. “If they took a bus, someone saw them.”

Nathan nodded. “Good idea.”

Spencer patted the keypad, tapping his foot so fast it shook the carpet. A woman answered, cheerful and oblivious to the panic ripping through him.

“Hi—yeah—this is Spencer Wallace. I’m looking for two passengers who might’ve traveled tonight. One’s a young guy, green and blue hair, tall, kind of anxious-looking. The other’s—” His throat tightened. “The other’s my partner.”

The woman asked for details. Spencer gave everything he could—names, descriptions, the time they might’ve left.

She put him on hold.

Spencer paced the room, heart pounding so hard it felt like it might crack his ribs. Nathan and Billy stayed quiet, giving him space, but their worry filled the room like fog.