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And I’m keeping that promise.
I swallow the hot beer and grab my phone. Falling back into the hammock, I play around on a game before thoughts of Shanel swallow everything.
Unable to ignore the pull of my curiosity, I call Barclay.
He answers on the first ring. “Idiot!”
“Nice to hear from you too.”
“Where the hell are you?”
“I told Fitz I was taking the boat.”
Fitz jumps on the line. “That was two freaking days ago, Hawk.”
“Hey, Fitz. You good?”
“Screw you.”
“We sent Coast Guards to look for you.”
“I know. I sent them back.” I take another swig. “How’s Shanel? Is she… still around?”
“That’s it? That’s what you called for? You don’t care that we thought you were dead out there?”
“No.”
Barclay sighs heavily.
Fitz curses.
“How is she?” I ask again.
“Who?”
“Shanel.”
Fitz hesitates.
“Is she gone?”
“She’s here. But she’s… not okay.”
I sit up. “What’s wrong?”
“You know what’s wrong,” Fitz says calmly. “You know, Hawk.”
I glare into the sun. “She’s the one who’s leaving.”
“Leaving?” Barclay cries. “Is that why you took the yacht out like a maniac and haven’t answered our calls for three days?”
“Forget me. What about Shanel?”
“Catherine says she’s not eating or sleeping.”
“You talking to Catherine now?” Barclay asks Fitz.
I dig my fingers into the phone. “Tell her I said to stop crying. It pisses me off.”
