Chapter 29
TWENTY-NINE
Felicity
It’s been six hours since I heard from Shepherd. I’m officially scared.
With each passing hour, I told myself I was overreacting. That he stopped somewhere, that he’s stuck in traffic, that he got pulled over. But as the hours have ticked by, it’s getting harder to believe any of those theories, especially since I’ve called and texted with zero reply.
Shepherd, I am now scared. You need to call me back now!
I squeeze my phone as I wait for a reply or for it to ring.
“Screw this.” I pull up Anya’s number and press call.
“Hey, Felicity. I was just talking about my nephew. I was telling Griffin that you and I should look for a photographer to take newborn pictures. How cute will that be? I was also thinking —”
“Anya,” I cut in, laughing lightly, but there’s no humor there. I’d love to spend all day talking about the baby that will be here soon, but right now I’m way too worried.
“What?”
“Have you heard from Shepherd at all?”
“No, why?”
“He texted me telling me he was going to Saint Pierce and then texted saying he was on his way home and that was six hours ago,” I explain.
“Griffin, have you heard from Shep?” she shouts.
I wait impatiently for her to say something, when she finally says, “Griffin hasn’t heard from him either.
Hang on, I’ll add you to the family group message.
Ask in there. I’m sure somebody knows something.
” After a few seconds, she tells me that I’m added and after a quick goodbye we hang up.
Hey everyone, it’s Felicity. Has anyone heard from Shepherd?
Anya: He said he was headed home six hours ago from Saint Pierce.
Tripp: I haven’t seen him since he left work this afternoon.
Paxton: What the hell was he doing in Saint Pierce?
He said he had a surprise. I have no idea, but I’m really worried. I’ve called and texted with no response. It’s not like him.
Anya: Don’t stress yourself. It’s not good for the baby.
I’m way past stressed!
Brock: I haven’t heard from him. Does anyone have his location? He won’t let me anymore since I kept showing up at random places he was at.
Callum: It’s late. Let me make a few phone calls and see what I can find out.
Thank you. I’m a mess over here.
Hartford: Paxton and I are on our way. You shouldn’t be alone.
Tripp: I can go ask Mom and Dad if they’ve heard from him.
Brock: Don’t you dare. You’ll likely scare them for no reason. Let’s see what’s up first. I’ll ask again, does anyone have his location?
Paxton: I do, but nothing is there. His phone must have died.
Callum: That’s definitely why he hasn’t called or texted Felicity. Don’t worry. I’ll call around.
Anya: Griffin and I are on our way too. Do you need anything?
I want to reply that I need Shepherd, but that’s not what she means. It’s also extremely thoughtful they are all coming over. This is what the Atwoods do. They show up for each other without a second thought.
Tears swim in my eyes as nerves and gratitude overwhelm me.
I don’t need anything, thanks.
Brock: Callum, let's take a ride and see if we can find him. Maybe his truck broke down.
Callum: On my way to grab you.
Hartford: That’s probably exactly what happened. His truck probably broke down and there’s no way for him to get in touch with anyone.
I hope so.
Griffin: Anya’s driving but wants me to tell you that she knows so.
Tripp: Griff, grab me on the way.
Griffin: Be outside, we'll be there in like two minutes.
Thank you all so much. I should’ve reached out earlier.
Brock: Don’t thank us. This is what we do and you’re one of us now.
The tears I’ve been fighting finally fall and I find it hard to stop them now. The support and love they all have for each other would make me jealous, but Brock is right, I do feel like one of them now because of Shepherd and our baby boy.
Just the thought of Shepherd makes my tears flow harder and I sit down on the couch and rub my belly as I stare out the window at his house.
It seems like a lifetime ago that I walked over there yelling at him for throwing away my Christmas decorations.
He was so grumpy, so cold. And now when I think about that guy, it’s hard to believe it’s the same person.
Shepherd is anything but grumpy and cold.
He’s funny, protective, warm, and loving.
I’ve never been so happy in my life. All because of Shepherd.
Hartford: Pulling up now. Don’t wanna scare you.
I get up to open the door and my phone alerts me again.
Griffin: Anya says keep the door open, we are right around the corner.
Within minutes, my quiet house is full of life. The once still air now hums with chatter and activity, and I’m so incredibly grateful for it.
“Felicity, have you eaten?” Griffin asks, poking his head out of the kitchen, concern etched on his face.
“No, I’m not hungry,” I reply, trying to mask my anxiety.
“You should eat. You and the baby need it,” Anya says, settling beside me on the couch. “Griffin will make something.”
“No, it’s fine, really. Once I know Shepherd is all right, I’ll eat.” My stomach rumbles in protest, but the mere thought of food makes me feel nauseous.
“Griffin likes to cook when he’s feeling any kind of emotion, so you don’t need to eat it, but he needs to cook,” Anya whispers, squeezing my hand gently.
I understand all too well the need to stay occupied. With a sigh, I relent. “Griffin, whatever you feel like making is great.”
Paxton strides in, a storm cloud of worry hanging over him. “Just got off the phone with Brock. They haven’t found anything yet,” he says, frustration evident as he shoves his phone into his pocket and begins to pace the floor.
“Thank you,” I say, not really knowing what else to say. Have you ever had that feeling? Like you know there’s impending doom lurking around the corner? That’s how I feel right now, and there’s nothing I can do to make it go away. Nothing at all.
I try to focus on happy thoughts, but the dread persists. My hands shake, and my teeth chatter despite the warmth in the room.
“If something had happened, one of us would’ve heard by now,” Paxton says, trying to sound reassuring as he rocks on his feet.
“He’s right,” Anya adds softly, her voice a soothing balm to my frayed nerves.
I don’t miss the nervous expressions that pass between Anya and Paxton before they hide them behind forced smiles. Everyone is as concerned as I am, and we’re all just trying to think positive.
“I love him, and if I lose him, I don’t know how I’m going to carry on,” I whisper, tears streaming down my face.
Anya and Hartford grab hold of me, and I can no longer fight my emotions. I’m terrified, and I know they are too, which only makes it worse. Their fear mirrors mine, amplifying my dread.
“Nothing bad is going to happen. Shepherd loves you and this baby more than anything. He’s always been a grumpy guy until you came into his life. Believe me, nothing bad is happening,” Paxton says from above, trying to sound confident but his eyes betray his worry.
Tripp sits next to Anya and rests his hand on my shoulder. “Shepherd would be pissed if he saw us sitting here thinking the worst.”
For a few minutes, the room is filled with an oppressive silence, broken only by the sound of my phone ringing. My heart stops. I push away from everyone and grab it.
“Hello?” I answer, my voice trembling.
“Is this Felicity?” a woman asks.
I look around as everyone stares at me, their expressions a mix of hope and fear. “Yes, who’s this?”
“I’m calling from Saint Pierce Hospital. Your husband, Shepherd, has been in an accident.”
I cover my mouth, my mind unable to absorb anything she’s saying. “What?”
“He’s gone back for a CAT scan but wanted to be sure you were told he’s here.”
“How bad is it?” I ask, clinging to the hope that it has to be somewhat okay if he’s mentioned me, right?
Right?
“I don’t have any information. I’m so sorry, I was just told to call you.”
I nod even though she can’t see me. “I’m on my way.” I hang up without another word and keep staring at the floor. “He’s at Saint Pierce Hospital. He’s been in an accident.”
Muscular arms wrap around me as everyone springs into action. “He’s going to be fine, Felicity. These Atwoods are fighters,” Griffin says, helping me toward the door. “Come on, we’ll drive.”
Everyone piles into their cars, and we head to the hospital. I don’t say a word the entire ride, keeping my eyes closed, trying to will away this nightmare. As foolish as it sounds, I hope that when I open my eyes, I will be lying in bed with Shepherd.
“Felicity, we’re here,” Anya says softly.
I open my eyes, and reality hits as the bright lights of the hospital shine down. My nightmare continues.
Anya doesn’t bother parking the car; she leaves it outside the entrance, telling them to tow it if they have to.
Paxton, Hartford, Tripp, Callum, and Brock rush in behind us, all talking, trying to piece together what happened.
But none of that matters to me. Right now, the only thing I care about is knowing how Shepherd is.
We reach the desk, and I feel like my legs are going to give out, so I hold on to it for support. “Shepherd Atwood,” I manage to say.
The receptionist types away at the computer as Anya wraps her arm around me. “You’re not alone, Felicity,” she whispers.
I just nod, my eyes fixed on the woman in front of me.
“He’s in the emergency room. Go through the double doors, take the first right, and you’ll see it,” she instructs.
I step away from the desk, and everyone follows me, a silent procession of worry and hope. As we reach the doors, a nurse stops us. “I’m sorry, but only one person can go back at a time.”
Anya gives my hand a reassuring squeeze. “Go ahead, Felicity. We’ll be right here.”