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“She won’t answer her phone or reply to texts,” I told him.
“Because she’s busy. Things are crazy at the moment. That’s all I can tell you. Z will call you when she has a chance.”
Before I could demand more details, the line went silent.
Fuck. The only thing I’d learned from that thirty-second conversation was that Zariah was safe and at home. But that didn’t give me a feeling of relief. Obviously, something was wrong.
For the next several hours, I did nothing but pace and glance at my phone every few seconds. Around two in the morning, I finally got a text back from her.
Red:Sorry I couldn’t take your calls. There is a family situation here that needs my attention. I won’t be able to make it to Boston tomorrow. Have a good game Sunday.
The message could have come from a complete stranger; there wasn’t a single emotional connection in the entire damn thing. I told myself she was just busy and no doubt tired, considering the time of night it was. But I could sense something was off.
I fell into bed, reading the message repeatedly, trying to figure out if she was actually okay or not. A family situation could have meant anything, but as the Vitucci lawyer, she would have to be front and center whether it was personal or business-related.
By the time I got on the bus that would take us to the airport, I was in a pissy mood. Zariah hadn’t texted me again, and I was running on less than an hour of sleep. As soon as we got to the next hotel, I dropped facedown on my bed and passed out.
The next time I returned to consciousness, it was to the sound of someone playing their television in the room next to mine at top volume. Scrubbing a hand over my face, I turned over and glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. Seeing the time, I blinked a few times and then glanced out the window.
It was just after seven in the morning on Sunday.
Scrubbing a hand over my face, I knew I had to get ready for the game, but I couldn’t bring myself to roll out of bed
But then, some of what was being said on the TV in the room next door started to penetrate my brain.
Ciana Donati had been kidnapped. Nova Hannigan, Ryan Vitucci’s fiancée, was dead.
Fuck, that was what the family situation was about? And she hadn’t told me?
Why? Because she didn’t think I would drop everything and be there for her when her sister was missing and her cousin’s fiancée had died?
But could I really blame her? I hadn’t been there when she’d needed me with my father’s bullshit. How could I expect her to think I would walk away from a baseball game for anything else?
