Chapter Eighteen
Brogan
Brogan flipped the steaks over on the grill, the fire crackling in rhythm with the rustling leaves around him.
The scent of sizzling meat should’ve made his stomach rumble, but his focus kept drifting toward the trail Archie had disappeared down nearly twenty minutes ago.
Not that fetching water was a complicated task; the lake was down the slope, a short trek, easy terrain.
Archie had saluted him and left with a quick smile before slipping away, boots crunching against the dirt path. No hesitation. No concern.
And yet, the seconds had stretched too long. The steaks were done, so he pulled them off the grill and wrapped them in foil.
Brogan told himself Archie had just gotten distracted. Maybe he was admiring the view, maybe he’d found some weird rock and studied it the way Brogan always did—curious, thorough, lost in his own head. That had to be it.
Except the uneasy weight in his stomach wasn’t budging.
He pulled his phone from his backpack and dialed Archie, waiting as the line rang. Once. Twice. Straight to voicemail.
“Arch? You good?” he tried, voice steady, forced casual.
Nothing.
Brogan stared out past the trees, searching for movement. Some sign that Archie had simply gotten distracted. But the woods stared back, silent and indifferent.
Another call. No answer.
Okay. Fine. Maybe his phone had died. Not the end of the world.
Thirty minutes passed. Then forty-five.
Brogan’s pulse hammered, every possibility unraveling in his head. Maybe Archie slipped. Maybe he lost his footing near the rocks. Maybe he landed in the lake or something worse. But he knows how to swim.
He ran through scenarios, each more unnerving than the last. If Archie had fallen, he’d call for help if his phone was charged.
If he was hurt, he’d drag himself back, or at the very least answer his damn phone.
But if someone took him—if something happened that prevented him from calling—Brogan shoved that thought down fast.
The longer he sat, the worse it got.
After a full hour of silence, he couldn’t sit still anymore.
He scraped loose dirt onto the embers, extinguishing the fire before hurrying down the path toward the lake, calling Archie’s name, the sound echoing through the trees. No answer. Only the occasional bird call, the whisper of wind.
At the shoreline, he found nothing. Just empty space where Archie should’ve been. No footprints in the mud. No bottle he might’ve set down.
The wrongness of it settled deep.
Brogan’s mind was now a frenzied mess of could-haves and should-haves. He should’ve gone with Archie. Should’ve checked sooner. Could’ve done something. Something to stop this from happening, though he didn’t even know what “this” was.
He took out his phone, hands shaking now, and scrolled for Andrew’s number. The second he answered, Brogan didn’t waste time.
“Archie’s missing.”
Andrew, sharp and alert, fired questions. “What do you mean missing? He was just with you.”
Brogan explained, “He went to grab water. Over an hour ago. Never came back. His phone’s dead, or he’s ignoring it. I checked the lake. He’s not there.”
“Where are you now?”
“At the lake.”
Andrew swore under his breath. “Stay put. I’m coming.”
The relief was a brief flicker.
Because Archie was still gone, and Brogan had no idea where to look, he retired to the fire pit area. Why had he allowed Archie to get water alone? He was new to Foggy Basin.
Brogan sat on a fallen log near the embers of their dying fire, his fingers gripping his phone so tightly his knuckles ached. The screen remained stubbornly blank. No new messages, no missed calls, just silence, stretching into something unbearable.
The surrounding forest swayed in restless waves, wind shifting the branches, the leaves whispering like they knew something he didn’t. Archie had been gone for over an hour. That fact alone gnawed at him, hollowing out his patience until only unease remained.
Still, his mind didn’t linger on the present, not really.
It kept circling back.
To their last conversation.
To Jade.
To the way Archie’s face had shifted, his calm demeanor thinning as the weight of Brogan’s words sank in.
When Archie had first asked about Jade, Brogan had thought nothing of it. Why would he? It wasn’t a secret. It wasn’t something shameful. Sure, it wasn’t something he was proud of either, but it had been what it was—nothing more, nothing less. After all, Archie kept his past hidden from Brogan.
A friends-with-benefits situation, nothing serious. A break-up that should’ve been clean, should’ve been done, but wasn’t—not entirely.
Brogan had thought he was helping. Thought giving Jade a flat, sending money for a while, was just easing the transition, just making sure he was okay. Brogan had shrugged it off, thinking it wasn’t a big deal. Thinking Archie would understand.
Archie had heard it differently.
“Why were you still sending him money after you broke up?” Archie had asked, measured, too controlled.
Brogan had told Archie about Jade’s fake motorcycle accident.
That had been the moment things shifted.
Archie had looked at him, really looked at him, like he was seeing something new. And Brogan had felt that stare more than he wanted to admit, like it was pressing him into a corner he didn’t know how to escape.
And then, the worst part.
Archie had asked, “Did you buy his one-way ticket to California?”
That simple question had rattled something in Brogan, something deep, something uncomfortable. Because, in Archie’s eyes, it wasn’t just about Jade. It was about what it meant.
Did Brogan let himself get used again? Did he even realize? Did he care?
Or worse—was he still carrying something for Jade, some old obligation, some misplaced guilt?
The thought had made his stomach twist.
But what really gutted him now, sitting alone in the woods with nothing but his own tortured memories, was the way Archie had responded afterward.
Not with anger. Not with accusations.
Just silence.
A careful, distant silence, like he was thinking too much and saying too little. Then he wanted to help by getting water from the lake. Was that his way out?
And Brogan hadn’t pushed. He hadn’t asked what Archie was thinking and hadn’t wanted to know. Because maybe, deep down, he feared the answer.
Now, as his gaze locked onto the empty trail Archie had walked down over an hour ago, the thoughts festered.
Maybe Archie had decided he wanted out.
Maybe that silence had been his answer all along.
Maybe Brogan was so good at letting people go, he hadn’t even realized Archie was already halfway out the door.
His chest tightened.
No. That wasn’t Archie. Archie wasn’t the type to walk away in the middle of their hike. But he did when Jade had lied to him. He wouldn’t leave now, would he? But what if—
The crunch of tires against gravel shattered the thought.
Andrew’s red sports car pulled into view.
Brogan stood, heart hammering, ready to tell Andrew everything—everything except the one fear he couldn’t say aloud.
Brogan paced near the edge of the clearing, the soft crunch of pine needles under his boots doing little to ground his nerves.
His phone felt useless in his palm—Archie wasn’t answering, and every attempt had been met with the same dead silence.
Andrew arrived with quick strides, his face calm but concerned. “Alright, what happened?” He adjusted the strap of his backpack, scanning the tree line.
Brogan exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair.
“We were fine. Hiking, talking, everything was normal—until he asked about Jade.” The name sat heavy in his throat, but he forced himself to keep going.
“I told him the basics, didn’t go into details.
He didn’t push. Just nodded, then said he was going to get water.
” He gestured toward the distant trail. “And he never came back. I even checked the lake area, and he wasn’t there. ”
Andrew frowned but nodded like it all made perfect sense. “And you think he’s avoiding you because of the Jade conversation?”
Brogan hesitated. His gut twisted at the thought. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Could be. But what if he’s lost? He’s not answering his phone.”
Andrew’s expression softened, his hand settling on Brogan’s shoulder. “Then he’s just lost,” he said firmly. “The woods aren’t exactly straightforward, especially if he wandered off the main path. We’ll find him.”
Brogan wanted to believe that. He really did. But doubt gnawed at him, sharp and relentless. Archie had seemed fine. He hadn’t flinched at the mention of Jade, hadn’t shut down. But something still felt off. And now he was missing.
Andrew stepped past him, already heading toward the path Archie had taken. “Come on. Let’s go get him.”
Brogan followed, swallowing down the unease creeping up his spine. Maybe Andrew was right. Maybe Archie had just taken a wrong turn. That was the answer Brogan wanted.
He just hoped he wasn’t wrong.