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Sal changes out of her uniform in the locker room, smashing the fabric into her duffel bag and pulling out a change of clothes. If she doesn’t get out of here now, she’s going to be late. She and Luke have plans to watch the Vols game at Jace and Emmy Lou’s, and then dinner down on Broadway. Sal dresses quick, slipping on a graphic tee, skinny jeans and black flats. She slips her muted phone in her back pocket, letting out a hiss when she sees the time. Five p.m.
She’s late. She’s already late and Luke, not to mention Seth, is gonna give her shit all night for her poor punctual performance.
She pauses in front of the mirror to run a hand down her belly. Today, she’s twelve weeks. An excited shiver rushes through her. She’s planning to tell Luke the news tonight after their dinner. It’s been a torturous two weeks of waiting. But now the moment is finally here and she’s never been so excited. With Henry, the baby she lost at four months, thanks to her memory loss, she can’t remember anything about him. She’s seen bump photos, knows she was wracked with morning sickness because Luke told her, but every sensation, every memory is gone. This is a new experience and she’s determined to soak up every bit she can. She wants to enjoy it with Luke and stop worrying about jinxing it.
Sal scowls at her reflection in the mirror. Hear that, dummy? Stop worrying.
Then she’s shouldering her bag, moving for the door. Before she can enter the hall, the door swings open and Tawny enters. “Have fun tonight.” She raises a knowing brow. “And good luck.”
Sal laughs.
Outside, she crosses the parking lot. The late-afternoon sun is hot, the rush of traffic over the underpass loud. She unlocks her car and slides in, locking the door. She’s pulling out her phone to text Luke when there’s a tap at her window. She glances up. A stocky man stands at her driver’s-side door. He looks nervous, disheveled, his hands in his pockets. “Ma’am, can you help me find someone?”
Sal frowns and slides her phone in her pocket. “I’m sorry,” she says loudly to be heard through the glass while sticking her key in the ignition. She gives a calm smile that doesn’t betray her nerves at being approached by a stranger. “I can’t, but the hospital help desk can.”
Every instinct she has is telling her to drive away. Now. Now, Sal.
“Sure, of course,” the man says, fumbling with something in his pocket. “But one last thing, real quick. Where’s Molly Banks?”
Sal’s eyes widen. Her heart springs into her throat, her stomach clenching painfully.
She’s unprepared for what comes next.
The man moves quick.
He pulls a gun from his pocket. His face twisted, his eyes wild.
All the air rushes from her lungs. Instinctively, Sal raises her hands. “No—please!”
She screams as the window shatters. As everything goes dark.
“Okay, thanks, Tawny. I’ll let you know when I hear from her.” Luke’s gut tightens as he hangs up the phone. Again, for the hundredth time tonight, his eyes drift to the clock on the wall. It’s slow, by minutes, but it doesn’t matter.
Sal’s two hours late. By now, she should be home. When she didn’t show up to meet him at the house, he drove by the hospital, saw her car was gone and came back home, figuring he had just missed her or she had gone straight to Jace’s. But an hour passed. And then another. No text. No phone call. That isn’t like Sal. If she’s late, she always lets him know.
Silence fills the house and Luke takes a quick pace around the kitchen. There’s a tug in his gut that tells him something ain’t right. It ain’t right at all.
Still, Luke wrangles his mind back from the edge of the abyss. He ain’t going there.
He can’t. Not yet.
He chuckles, imagining his wife walking through the front door. Her green eyes wide, her beautiful face apologetic for being late, but ready to tease Luke for sounding the alarms, to scoff at him for being a damn fool.
He picks up his phone again. Scrawls through the texts he’s sent to Sal.
Shoot me a text, darlin, let me know you’re okay.
Sal, you there?
Sal, you’re scarin’ me. Where are you?
Luke drifts, phone in his hands. Kitchen. Hallway. Living room.
He sits in the leather recliner beside the couch. Checks his phone for a call from Tawny, who’s searching the hospital from top to bottom for Sal. A call from Seth, who failed to answer earlier. His brother’s got a date, got a girl, got something not to answer Luke’s calls. Hell, with any luck Sal’s with him. Hopefully.
He gets up and paces to the mantel. He closes his eyes, trying to gather himself. But he can’t stop his plummeting heart. The house is quiet. Too quiet. The feeling is eerily similar to when he returned to Nashville without Sal. After Florida. After the plane crash where she went missing. How many times has he thought about that night? Coming home to an empty house after the failed search and rescue, Seth and Jace camped out in guest bedrooms. Expecting her to come around a corner at any moment, but all there was was a whisper of her smell, the ghosts of her absence. And how many times has he thanked his goddamn lucky stars above, thanked god, thanked anyone that would listen when Sal came home. When she returned to him.
And now ...
