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“Crap.” A pause. “Did he say he was going somewhere? Did he say anything to you?”

“No. I thought he was with you guys.”

“Crap,” Audrey says again.

Holy freaking crap. I swallow down my irrational panic. “Maybe he forgot to charge his phone.”

“Yeah, but then where is he? He’s not at Damage Control, or with anyone we know. He won’t answer the door to his apartment, and the lock seems to be jammed.”

“What about his sister? Maybe he went to visit?”

“Midweek?” Audrey sounds skeptical. “Let me see if Ash has her number to call. Stay put, I’ll call you back.”

“Okay.”

The call disconnects, and I bite my lip. Worry has my stomach tied up in knots. Where is he? God, I hope he’s okay.

Sunlight pours through a glass door, and I head that way. Suddenly, being outside is a physical need. The walls are closing in on me. I ran to the door, open it and step out into a parking lot.

I suck in lungfuls of cool air and jiggle the cell in my hand, as if that will make it ring sooner. I pace the yard as I wait, walking between the cars, looking at the buildings rising beyond the fence.

When the cell finally rings, I almost drop it in my haste to answer. “Yeah?”

“Dakota. His sister died yesterday. His brother-in-law says Zane was at the funeral this morning, then he left to drive back to Madison.”

“Oh shit.” I bend over, a hand over my stomach. Jesus. “Could he…” God, please no. “An accident? Is it possible…?”

“We have Rafe and Tyler calling all hospitals in the area. So far it doesn’t seem like he was admitted to any. There weren’t many accidents on the road this morning.”

“Then where is he?”

Audrey moves away from the phone, speaking to someone, presumably Ash. Then she’s back. “Ash is saying he’s going to try and break down the door of Zane’s apartment.”

A different kind of fear twists my insides. “What does he think happened?”

Audrey sighs. “Just come over, will you? We’re heading that way now.”

“Yeah.” I stumble as I head back inside. “I can be there in half an hour.”

I hang up without saying goodbye, too stressed for social niceties. I run through the hospital, lose my way again and end up calling Dad to tell him I have to go. I barely hear what he says before I hang up and ask for directions. Then I’m running through halls and down more corridors, finally stepping out into another lot where my car is parked.

Praying the engine will endure one more trip back to Madison, I step on the gas and gun it down the highway. I don’t bother with music. Can’t bear it, my head’s too full of noise as it is.

The scars down his arms. The shadow of pain in his eyes. Please, let him not have done anything to himself.

His sister died, and I wasn’t there for him. I didn’t know. But it doesn’t matter. I frigging wasn’t there.

Fear is a cold hand between my shoulder blades, digging sharp nails into my lungs.

Please let him be okay.

***

I hear the sound of sirens as I approach Zane’s building, and the claws of fear tear into me deeper. A coincidence, I think, as I turn into his street, and park. Please let it be a coincidence.

The ambulance rolls down the street and parks not twenty feet away, its lights flashing.

Holy shit.

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