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God, he was perfect. How had I gotten so lucky? Amos Brady had every millimeter of my heart, and there wasn’t any room for doubt. So, I didn’t know why I pretended like I didn’t already know what was so plainly apparent. That he was mine and I was his, and we weren’t going anywhere.
Which meant it might not be the end of the world to acknowledge a few hard truths. I opened my mouth to say the unthinkable.
Suddenly, Amos’ phone rang, and he turned, picking it up from the bedside table. He frowned as he stared at the caller ID.
“Who is it?” I asked.
“It’s Zev. That brat never calls me,” Amos muttered, half to himself. He answered it. “Hello?” He listened for a few seconds before abruptly standing. “What? Say that again.”
I put my plate aside, suddenly worried for Amos. He looked stricken with fear as he paced away. “Amos?” I asked.
“When? How do you know?” Amos asked. He listened again, already going into his closet for clothing. “Yes, she texted me the location. I’ll catch the next flight. No, don’t call the police, it’ll attract the wrong attention, and we don’t know what she’s been up to. I’ll text you before I take off.”
Dread gripped me with sharpened claws. “Amos?” I breathed out. Whatever it was, it had to be bad. He was rushing to get dressed, and I joined him, my toast forgotten and my nausea threatening to take over again.
“Get dressed,” he said simply, already in a pair of jeans and throwing clothing into a weekender bag.
I found a pair of overalls and one of my shirts and dressed with worry slithering through my veins. When Amos came to stand in front of me, he dropped the bag he’d packed and took my upper arms in a gentle grip. His eyes had gone summer storm dark, and he looked like he might be on the verge of tears.
“Whatever it is, I’m here,” I assured him, cupping his face with my hand.
Amos nodded, leaning into my touch. “I know.”
“Then, what is it?”
His throat bobbed. “Azura’s been kidnapped.”
