AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"He told me about the morgue." I see his reflection in the glass windows as his gaze falls to the floor. "He told me you were stronger than he was that morning."
I spin around to look directly at him. "I wasn't being strong. That's not what it was. I knew it wasn't Asher. I could feel it inside. I think I'd know if anything happened to him."
His mouth thins. "The last time I spoke to Asher he told me that he was feeling down. He said that life had become complicated and I warned him about using again. I specifically asked him if he was feeling the draw towards it."
"What did he say?"
"He said that he'd never do it again." He shakes his head. "He was adamant about it. I know, from the time I spent in therapy with him, that addicts will say just about anything to convince everyone they're fine."
I know that too. Tom did the very same thing when I started asking too many questions. He'd rush out to buy me flowers and he'd take me to my favorite restaurant all while telling me that he'd never use anything illicit again. I believed him because I was the one who needed to hear those words, even if my logical mind was telling me that they weren't true.
"I can tell when Asher is lying to me." He blinks, and then looks directly at me. "He wasn't lying when he promised me he wouldn't break his sobriety."
"I believe that too," I say as I turn to look back out the window. "Asher is out there somewhere. We just have to find him."
***
"We still have that house in the Hamptons." Gabriel walks towards an oak cabinet situated on the far side of the room. "My parents never split it up in the divorce. No one has been there in years but I remember how much you loved going there when you were a kid."
I did love it. It was the highlight of my summer. My brother and I would hop in the Foster's car with them and travel to their beautiful home in the Hamptons. We'd spend three glorious weeks there, feeling as though we'd both won the lottery. We were treated to boat rides, swimming, tennis and all the personal chef prepared food we could stomach. I always felt like a Princess when we arrived and I'd feel a terrible sense of loss once the vacation was over and we returned home.
"I haven't thought about that house in years. You never go there?"
He pulls open one of the drawers on the cabinet. His hand dips inside. "I don't have time. You should stop there on your way back from Martha's Vineyard. It's close."
"No." I shake my head wishing I hadn't mentioned my brief work trip when we spoke on the phone last night. "It would feel strange to go there after all this time."
He waves a set of keys in the air. "It would give you a break from everything that's been going on here. Take the keys, Rowan. If you feel like stopping there tomorrow, do it."
I stare at the key fob. "I'll take them but I doubt I'll go there. I want to get back to help you and Caleb find Asher."
"I'm not sure how much help Caleb is going to be." His voice cracks. "I called him an hour ago and he was in a meeting. He brushed me off."
"Was it about shirts?" I ask half-jokingly.
"Shirts?" He scowls. "No. Caleb hasn't been in the office in more than a week."
"What?"
"I had a mess to clean up when I got back." He motions towards the door. "I need to go back in to the office tonight."
"What's Caleb been doing? Where has he been?"
"I have no idea." He pushes the keys to the Hamptons house into my palm as he scoops up another set. "I'll ride down in the elevator with you. I'll call you as soon as I know anything."
Chapter 25
"I said that I'm here to see Caleb." I push past Ruby who is surprisingly weak considering she looks like a miniature football player in expensive heels.
"He's busy, Rhonda." Her hand leaps to my shoulder. "If you'll wait in the foyer, I'll see if he has a minute for you."
"It's Rowan." I spin back on my heel to pronounce my name slowly. "I'm going to find him. I know he's here."
I actually don't know that. It's more of an assumption than anything. I'd tried texting Caleb twice but I'd gotten no response and then I'd called. It rang at least seven times before it hit voicemail, which tells me that he didn't even glance at the screen. I've called him before when he's been consumed with work and each of those times, he's hit the ignore button in short order. This time is different.
"You can't just walk through his apartment."
"Yes, I can," I spit back defiantly. "You need to let go of my arm now."
