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“Tired?” Dad asked.
“Yeah.” I rubbed at my sore eyes and sat up straighter as he turned into his street. “The weekend was nonstop.”
“I can imagine.” Dad chuckled. “Your mom doesn’t do things by halves.”
“She doesn’t,” I grunted. From the time I’d landed in France, there had been parties and dinners, and then the wedding. I hadn’t had a second to think, much less call home or message with Aria. We’d barely talked, and I wasn’t afraid to say I missed her. The image of her face perked me up, and my stomach fluttered as Dad pulled into the driveway next to Lola’s car. Another couple of cars were littered outside the house, and I had no doubt it was Ford and Dad’s team.
My body was sluggish as I pushed out of the car, and it took all my strength to lift my suitcase out of his trunk. “I could sleep for a week,” I groaned out, following Dad into the house.
“Aw, does Cade need a nap?” Dad asked, his lips quirked up into a grin.
“Shut up.” I barged past him as he opened the front door and I hadn’t even made it into the living room when I was greeted by two terrors, otherwise known as Belle and Asher.
“You’re home!” Belle shouted, throwing herself at me. I ha
d no idea how I managed to catch her without falling over, but all I did was stumble a little. She wrapped her arms around my neck. “I missed you so much. Next time you go to France, you have to take me with you.”
I chuckled and squeezed her tighter. “It’s a deal,” I told her. I almost wished she had been there with me. At least then I would have had an excuse not to have to attend all the events Mom and her new husband hosted.
Dad walked past me and grabbed Asher on the way, throwing him in the air and catching him, but he halted when Ford stepped out of the kitchen, blocking the entrance.
“Something is—” He was cut off by banging upstairs, and he flicked his gaze up to the ceiling.
Dad placed Asher on the floor. “What the…”
“Think you’re having some teenage trouble,” Ford said, glancing at me and then back to Dad. “Aria won’t come out of her room.”
“What?” I frowned and put Belle down. “What do you mean?”
Ford shrugged and backed away into the kitchen, his features telling us he needed to talk in private.
“Stay in here,” Dad told Belle and Asher, who were already climbing back on the sofas and watching TV. We both moved into the kitchen where Ford was leaning against the counter, and the team was sitting around the dining table. A container of yogurt was splashed on the floor, but it was the calendar Ford held up that held my attention.
“Lola said she came back from the store to this,” Ford told us. I stepped forward, realizing the calendar was ripped in half. “She said something about today being an anniversary and then shot upstairs, but she’s been up there for about five minutes, and Aria won’t come out.”
“Anniversary?” I asked, not understanding what the hell was going on. Why would Aria rip the calendar?
“Sounds like she’s just being a teenager to me,” Dad grunted. “Probably needs some space.”
I tended to agree. Aria did need space—she needed time to get her mind around things. Some would call it hiding, but I knew she was making sure she didn’t crack the mask she had to put on in front of everyone.
“Beats me.” Ford shrugged and threw the calendar down onto the counter. “If her dad died ten years ago, then maybe she wants some peace and—”
“What did you say?” I growled out, my heart starting to race in my chest. My gut told me something wasn’t right, not once he’d said those words.
“Huh?” Ford frowned.
“What did you just say?”
“I said her dad died ten years—”
My eyes widened. “It’s the anniversary of her dad’s death?” Ford nodded, and I didn’t wait another second to dart out of the kitchen, through the living room, and up the stairs. Footsteps followed after me, but not at the rushed pace I was going.
“Aria! Open the door!” Lola banged her fist on it several times, her head turning so she could look at me. “She’s not answering, Cade.” Her hazel eyes were shadowed in sadness, but I knew mine would have shown fear.
“Aria!” I shouted, banging my fist twice and trying the door handle, but it was locked. When she still didn’t answer, I backed up a few steps, the worst images possible entering my head, and all I wanted was to scrub them clean. The tiredness that had been wearing at my body disappeared as I ran at the door, trying to get it open.
“Cade!” Dad shouted. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
