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“Clay’s working on the phone,” Declan said, returning to the living room holding a glass of amber liquid. “Julia said for you to drink this.”
Nick took the glass and glanced into the kitchen where Julia was busy making sandwiches. It was something she did when everything went to shit — cook food no one wanted to eat that somehow got eaten anyway.
Elise was in the kitchen with her, playing with the baby in his bouncy seat while Ronan fed Chief. They were giving Nick a wide berth, either because they didn’t want to deal with his paranoia or because they knew it was bad, knew something was wrong.
He downed the drink in one swallow and waited for comfort that never came. Nothing would make this okay — nothing but proof that Alexa was alive and well.
He’d wanted to go to Alexa’s parents’ house when she didn’t return his first three texts. He’d been half out the door when she didn’t return his eighth text and had been stopped by Ronan, who’d told him to stay calm. If Alexa had forgotten to text, forgotten to check her phone, or if she’d lost itsomewhere along the way, barging into her parents’ house looking like a controlling boyfriend would only make things worse for her, for their relationship.
Nick had reluctantly agreed to give it another hour, but after that he was going, damn the consequences.
In the meantime, Declan had contacted Clay to work on finding a signal for Julia’s phone. If it was at her parents’ house, they’d know she’d arrived safely. Something still could have gone wrong after her arrival — the invasion at the hotel and attack on the house was proof that nothing was off-limits for the Walkers and Matis Juska — but it gave them something to work with.
“It’s Juska,” Nick said. “It has to be.”
“We don’t know that,” Dec said.
“She wouldn’t do this,” Nick muttered. “She knows how worried I was about her going alone.”
“People forget things sometimes. It’s not like she doesn’t have a lot on her mind. It could be anything,” Dec said.
Nick looked at him. “Exactly.”
A buzz sounded through the house, and Nick hurried over to the security panel, illuminating the camera feed. It took him a few seconds to recognize the older man standing at the gate. When he did, hisheart dropped out of his chest, free-falling through his body.
It was Alexa’s father, Russell Nash.
Nick pressed the buzzer to let him in almost without thinking. He passed through the living room, heading for the kitchen and the French doors that led to the courtyard.
“Who is it?” Ronan asked as Nick continued through the kitchen.
He kept walking. The winter air was a smack in the face, but he hardly noticed.
Russell Nash stepped into the courtyard. They met in the middle, and as soon as Nick got close enough to get a good look at the older man’s face, he knew. Russell Nash looked like death warmed over, his skin ashen, his eyes bloodshot and frantic. His gray hair was shaggy and askew, deep lines furrowed across his forehead.
Nick’s eyes dropped to the bag in his hand.
Alexa’s bag.
“It was two streets over,” Russell said by way of greeting. “With her car and this.”
He held out his hand and Nick saw Alexa’s phone, crushed and only recognizable from the case.
Nick walked back a couple of steps, his mind reeling. He turned away from Alexa’s dad, hardlyable to look at the man’s anguished face, hardly able to breathe through his own fear.
He didn’t realize he’d reached the house’s brick facade until his fist made contact with it. It wasn’t the pain that woke him up, it was the blood, dripping down his wrist and forearm as he hit the wall again and again.
Nick sat at the kitchen island and stared down at the drink in front of him. It was his second — or was it his third? — since Elise had pulled him away from the wall and out of the courtyard. He’d lost count of how many times he’d hit the wall, had lost track even of the fact that Alexa’s dad was standing behind him.
Elise had led him into the house while Ronan and Declan greeted Russell Nash. She’d taken Nick to the bathroom in the guest suite that had become hers, shut the door, and worked to bandage his hand.
She hadn’t spoken until she was done. Then she looked him in the eye. “This is one of those moments, Nick. One of those moments when someone needs you — and I don’t mean just Alexa. Imean her dad too. She would want you to help him. I know you’re upset and scared and probably super fucking pissed off, but if you want to help Alexa, you have to be calm right now. Save your anger for later, when you can take it out on the Walkers and that bastard who works for them. Okay?”
Her words had sunk through the fear and rage that threatened to blot out rational thought, that threatened to blot out everything. He’d nodded, gone back out into the kitchen, poured himself and Russell a drink, and introduced himself to Alexa’s dad.
It wasn’t the way he’d imagined meeting the man who was so important to Alexa, but there was nothing he could do about that now.
They’d sat at the island while the rest of the family made themselves scarce in the living room, far enough away to give Nick privacy but close enough that they would be there if Nick needed them.
