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“Other things on my mind. But we shouldn’t have this around. You just got back.”
“Duh. That’s why I only asked for one. You look like you need it.”
I rotate the bottle in my palms. Try to swallow away my problems by getting drunk? Tempting, but that was old Brody. New Brody wants to sit here the rest of the night and wallow in misery while sober. Not only for health reasons, but because I’m deep in self-pity mode. I put the beer on the coffee table. “Thanks, but I’m not into drinking right now.”
Amber pats my shoulder. “Paige didn’t mean what she said. I think she’s stressed from being home. That didn’t sound like her at all.”
“Sure sounded like she meant it. It’s nothing I didn’t prepare myself for. I fell in love and she didn’t. Knowing she never wants to see me again hurts, but I knew the risks.” Despite this misery, I’ll never regret loving Paige. My only regret is those carbs I ate earlier. I’ve never been an emotional eater, but I shoved a fucking doughnut in my mouth after Amber brought a dozen home.
Amber flips the channel to a random baseball game like it will cheer me up. “This is so strange,” she says. “You, in love? Anyway, Paige never talks that way, so I’m completely certain she didn’t mean it. Let’s focus on our plan for finding her. Because we’re still going to.”
“Of course we are.” Even if she hates me, I’ll find her. I feel guilty when she says things like ‘respect my decisions’, but she’s in danger. Her safety is my priority. If she hates me for getting her out of there, fine. But I need her safe.
“I think I have a general idea of her neighborhood,” Amber says. “She has a favorite thrift store, so I bet it’s within walking distance of her house or close by bus. We could go to that area and ask around.”
“Eagle Eye Thrift?”
“Yeah, how did you—”
My phone rings, and my mind immediately jumps to Paige. I answer without looking at the screen.
“Sorry to call so late,” a gravely male voice says.
It takes a second to register who it is. Frank. Why is Frank calling so late? “Uh, hey. What’s going on?”
“Someone’s on your porch.”
“Huh?”
“You got your porch light off, but I’m seeing the outline of a person. Been there a couple hours. Thought it might be a friend, so I waited. You want me to see who it is? Don’t look like Amber.”
Great. More trouble. Let’s heap it onto everything else going on. “Thanks for letting me know. I’ll go look.”
After I hang up, Amber’s brows pinch together. “What is it?” she says.
“Someone’s on our porch.”
She tenses. “Like who? A homeless person? Maybe a drunk neighbor got confused about where they are.”
I stand with a groan. “I don’t know, but I’ll find out.” I grab the steel bat I keep near the couch and drag myself to the door. Amber might be right. Some teenage neighbor is probably smoking on our porch. Or a drunk picked the wrong house.
I fling the door open and flip on the light, hoping to startle whoever it is. I do, but it’s not who I expect to see sitting on the edge of the porch. The bat slips from my grasp and thuds against the wooden floorboards. I rush forward. Paige stares up at me with frightened eyes and curls away, hugging Bamsy against her waist with a bandaged arm. I freeze.
“Who is it?” Amber calls from inside.
Paige lowers her gaze and turns away. Her words from the chat circle my thoughts like sharks. I remain still, keeping my distance, even though all I want to do is pull her into my arms. Make sure she’s real.
I’ll stay away. It’s enough to know she’s safe. The weight I’ve carried the past few days lifts from my chest, and I gulp air like I just resurfaced from the depths of the ocean, moments from drowning.
Amber is at the door. “Oh my god.” She hurries forward and falls to her knees next to Paige, brushing pieces of a smashed phone out of the way. “I’m so happy to see you. How long have you been here? Are you okay? No, that’s a stupid question.” Her gaze scans the bruises on Paige’s neck and arms, then her voice thickens. She powers forward. “I was so sick with worry. You’re going to be okay. What do you need? You need a shower? No, we should look at your arm first. Can I look at it? What happened? Do you need a doctor? I know you hate them, but we can find a nice doctor. Mrs. Cho. Let’s call her and—”
Paige pulls her into a hug, wincing from her injuries.
Amber’s voice cracks and she falls into sobs. “You scared me.”
Paige’s expression twists with pain, but she holds Amber and buries her face against Amber’s hair.
Envy twists my gut. Paige looks so relieved to see Amber, but she curled away from me. I stand behind them like a third wheel and frown at myself. Stop being childish. What matters is she’s here.
