20. Brent
CHAPTER 20
Brent
W hen I get Piper’s text, I frown.
What the hell? We had all planned to go to dinner in town at the local bar. Tate even agreed to it, despite the fact that he can be a real pain in the ass about food. I’ve been looking forward to this all day, because we’re celebrating the video of Dalton working with the horses going viral. It also kind of felt like we were celebrating a little bit more, as well.
It’s been almost a month, and things are going so smoothly. The sex is good. Great. Fan-fucking-tastic. Piper seems happy. I’m happy. Tate and Dalton seem happy. Everything seems to be going really fucking well.
Except for the fact that in the past week or so, Piper has… withdrawn. A lot.
Physically, she’s still around. She hasn’t left, even though her water heater is working at her house again. She’s still with us, living in our house. We’re still, for all intents and purposes, kind of roleplaying as a family. But something seems… off.
I haven’t been able to figure out what it is, but it’s driving me absolutely fucking nuts. I can tell Dalton feels it, too. He’s been on edge, and he even started to lose his patience with one of the horses earlier.
Tate seems to be unaffected. I guess that’s what a happy childhood gets you. The inability to sense tension in a room. Lucky fucker.
Two seconds after getting her text, Dalton’s calling. I pick up.
“What the hell? She doesn’t want to ride into town together?”
“Guess not, man,” I answer, picking at a loose thread on my saddle.
“The fuck did we do?”
I shake my head. “Nothing, Dalton. We didn’t do anything wrong. Piper’s just… being herself.”
“No, she’s not. Piper being herself is happy. Piper lately isn’t happy,” he growls.
“I know. But what are we gonna do about it?”
Dalton’s silent. Yeah. Exactly.
I heave out a sigh. “At dinner, we’ll ask her what’s going on. Okay? Sound fair?”
“She gonna answer?”
I roll my eyes. “Dalton. We just have to ask. If she’s ready to answer, she’ll answer. If she’s not, she won’t. We’ll figure it out. Okay?”
“Her clothes are gone.”
Ice spreads through my veins. “What?”
“Her clothes. Most of ‘em. They’re gone.”
I gulp. “Dalton…”
“See you,” he snaps.
The phone goes dead. I stare at it for a second.
It’s my first instinct to call Piper. I want to ask her what’s going on, but what would I say? Dalton says that your shit is gone? Are you leaving?
It makes no sense. Piper wouldn’t just… leave and go back to her house. We’ve been working well together. We’ve been having a good time. Haven’t we?
I groan out loud. Fuck me. I hate all the uncertainty. This is exactly why I didn’t want to change anything.
Losing Piper is the worst possible outcome. I literally could not think of a worse one. Did we lose her without meaning to? Did I fuck this up again?
I gently tap Sam’s side, urging him back. We have about an hour to ride to get back to the house. And dinner is still even more hours away. Fuck me.
Sam, for once in his life, seems to sense my urgency. He breaks into a fast trot, and I don’t even try to stop him.
I need to figure out what the hell is going on. I need to find Piper. And I need to fucking fix it. If I can.
The three of us get to the bar at around the same time. It feels stupid, to be looking at Dalton and Tate without Piper here. It already feels like we’re missing something.
Dalton is mindlessly pacing. I look at him. “Dude. Seriously. Calm the fuck down.”
“Why are you acting like someone shit in your cereal?” Tate asks.
Dalton looks at him. “Piper.”
“Yes? She’s meeting us here?” Tate’s eyebrows rise in confusion.
Dalton shakes his head. “No. She’s… her shit was gone.”
“Gone?”
“Clothes. Gone.”
Tate frowns. “Okay. First of all, weird that you went looking for her stuff.”
“Had a feeling,” Dalton grunts.
I sigh. “What he means is that Piper’s been kind of withdrawn for the past week. I’ve noticed it. Dalton noticed it. You, and your goddamn terrible sense for danger, have not noticed it.”
“Maybe there’s just no danger? Did you think of that?”
“Tate,” I snap. “She’s been quiet and hasn’t been nearly as bubbly. Didn’t you notice?”
“I did. But also, isn’t it coming up on like, a time where she’s super quiet, anyway? I mean, remember last month she cried at that commercial for the animal cruelty campaign for like thirty minutes.”
Shit. Tate’s right.
I turn to Dalton. “That could be.”
“No. Fuck no. I’m telling you. Shit’s not right.”
Goddamn it. “Dalton. You need to get yourself together. And Tate, you need to be a less shitty friend.”
“Okay, I see where you’re coming from, but also, this is definitely not my fault, so?—”
Tate stops. A familiar vintage blue Ford is rumbling into the parking lot.
My heart is in my throat as Piper climbs down from the truck. She looks over at us, and her smile is… weak. Her smile is fucking strained and weak, and I’m pretty sure that Tate is absolutely not right. Dalton is.
Piper’s going to leave. And there’s not shit we can do about it.
I’m trying to grapple with this when she walks up to us. “Hey, guys. Sorry I’m late.”
She looks… good. She’s wearing a little yellow sundress that shows off her toned arms and delicate shoulders. I don’t recognize it, which means that she went back to her house to get it. Which means she showered there. And not with us. Not at home.
My stomach drops.
Her brown hair is down, but it just makes me want to gather it with my hands so I can tug her head back and kiss her. However, none of us move to kiss her. And she doesn’t come to kiss any of us.
“It’s all good, Pipes.” Tate smiles at her. “Are you ready to go eat the most mediocre food you’ve ever had in your life?”
“Sure,” Piper says.
We all stare at her as she walks inside.
Tate looks at me. “She didn’t even get on my case about being nice about the food.”
“Told you. Something’s fuckin’ wrong,” Dalton growls.
I take a deep breath. I point to Dalton and Tate.
“Let’s go figure out what the fuck is wrong with our girl,” I rasp.
We tuck into a corner booth at the bar.
Tate is next to Piper. Dalton is next to me. Dalton and I are staring at Piper like she’s about to grow wings and fly away. And Tate is staring at us.
When it comes time to order drinks, I go to order Piper a gin and tonic, but she cuts over me. “I’ll have a soda. Ginger ale, please.”
The rest of us ask for beer, and then Tate looks at Piper. “Are you feeling okay?”
She shakes her head. “Yeah. Um. I am. I think.”
Alarm bells are screaming in my mind.
Piper looks at each of us. “So, there’s something I want to?—”
She’s interrupted by the waiter. It’s the most awkward silence I’ve ever heard in my life. He hands each of us a drink, then steps back.
“And for food?” he asks.
I am going to lose my fucking shit on this guy. If he doesn’t fucking leave…
“No food,” Dalton grunts.
Piper frowns. Tate looks alarmed. And I nod, desperately hoping the waiter is going to pick up on the fact that all of us are absolutely going to fall apart if he doesn’t get the complete and total fuck out of here.
The waiter, still not understanding the obvious tension, just smiles. “Do you want to hear about some specials today?”
To everyone’s surprise, it’s Tate that snaps. “No. I do not want to hear about specials. Unless you want me to get my ass back to the kitchen and cook something worthwhile, do not tell us about any goddamn specials.”
The waiter panics. He zips away, and the three of us look at Tate.
Piper sighs. “Tate. What the heck? He was just asking about food. Literally just doing his job.”
“I know, Piper. I just…” Tate blows out a breath and looks around the table. “Look, you took your stuff out of the house. I didn’t see it, but we talked about it ahead of time.”
Piper’s face falls. “What?”
“Your clothes, Piper. They were gone when we got home,” I say.
Piper’s eyes flash. There’s confusion there. And panic. And something that feels a little like anger. “You saw my clothes were gone. And you’ve all been what, panicking about it ever since?”
This is starting to get to a place where the hair on the back of my neck is standing up. “Well, yeah. And then you sent that text saying that you wanted to meet us here instead of us all riding together.”
“I did do that. But that feels like it’s something that’s pretty normal, and not like something that should cause all three of you to lose your minds,” Piper says.
The ice in her tone is definitely not a good thing. “Piper…”
“What other theories do you have about me? Perhaps you’d like to tell me all of them before we go on,” she snaps.
Shit. “Look, Piper, I?—”
Abruptly, Pier stands. “I need some air.”
She runs for the door.
I exchange a look with the other guys, and then seconds later, we run, too.