Chapter 32 #2
I don’t have a response for much right now.
Although… she adores that ornery animal. Treats him like her damn child.
Why would she abandon him?
Piper presses a hand to her chest, anxiety crawling across her face. “She wouldn’t go back to him, Griffin.”
“Well,” I reply, my voice devoid of emotion, “she did. And he picked her up like it was planned. Private plane and all. How nice for them.”
A flicker of something sharp cuts across her face. “Shit. He’s been harassing her. Reese told me right before I left town. She said he kept calling and texting, wouldn’t leave her alone. She feared him, Griffin.”
“Reese didn’t look scared to me,” I snap. “She looked fine. Like she made her choice and it sure as hell wasn’t me.”
Piper rounds on me, eyes blazing. “Give me your phone.”
I point to my mobile on the counter.
“Not that phone. Your burner. The one you keep for work. I know you’ve got one. Give it to me.”
I blink, then turn and yank open the junk drawer by the sink. The phone’s buried under a set of keys, a bottle opener, and a pile of receipts. I toss it to her without a word.
She catches it and starts dialing before it settles in her hand.
Piper presses the phone to her ear. “Vander, this is Piper. Put my sister on the phone.”
She waits.
She stiffens, pacing small steps around the counter. “What do you mean she doesn’t want to talk to me?” Another pause. “Vander, I’m not kidding. Put her on the phone. Right now.”
Silence.
She shoves a hand through her hair, pacing harder. “You son of a bitch. He hung up.”
“Guess she doesn’t like you any better than she likes me.”
Piper stares at the screen like it’s radioactive, her hand shaking.
She sinks into the nearest chair, phone clattering onto the table, her voice barely audible. “Oh, my God.”
I rub my temples, the jackhammer behind my eyes unrelenting. “Piper?—”
“She didn’t go willingly,” she says, dazed. “Something is wrong.”
I stagger toward the kitchen counter, grab the bottle of aspirin, and toss two into my mouth. No water. Just a swallow of whiskey from a glass nearby. It burns like fire on the way down.
Piper watches, disgusted. “Jesus, you need an intervention.” She grabs a water bottle from the fridge and shoves it into my hand.
I crack the cap but don’t drink. “I think you’re overreacting,” I mutter. “She had the wherewithal to buy me off. She even reminded me that I meant nothing to her. Repeatedly.”
Piper’s head jerks toward me. “What the hell do you mean she bought you off?”
I walk over to the counter, pick up the envelope, and toss it at her.
“Like I told you,” I say, voice hoarse. “A hundred and fifty grand. I guess I don’t come cheap. Maybe I should up my prices, since I’m diving right back into being a whore again.”
“Griffin, shut up.” Piper stares at the check like it might explode. “Where did Reese get this? From Vander?”
“Said she cashed out her 401(k).”
“Her 401(k)?” Her voice rises, frantic. “Griffin, this is everything she had. You don’t understand. She would never touch this account. She saved it for when her life fell apart, for when she had nothing left.”
“What’s your point?” I lean heavily against the counter, struggling to process her words.
“If she gave you this,” Piper continues, stepping closer, the check shaking in her hand, “it wasn’t a buyout. That account was her last safety net, Griffin. And she handed it to you. Don’t you get it? You were her everything .”
Piper’s words swirl around my whiskey-addled brain. “I don’t?—”
“She wanted to marry you,” Piper adds faintly. “She told me she’d give you the four damn kids you wanted so bad. You know she never wanted kids until she met you.”
The words cut so deep I can barely breathe.
“She—she never told me that,” I rasp, my voice raw.
“It’s true,” Piper whispers. “She adored you. Hell, that morning, we were joking about her drinking wine before you knocked her up. Does that sound like a woman who doesn’t want you?”
Images flash through my mind like a slideshow I can’t turn off—her soft laugh as she slid into my lap, the shy smile she gave me the night we danced in the kitchen, the way she reached for my hand when she thought no one was looking.
The kiss on my cheek before she walked away forever.
She was too calm.
Too controlled.
Not Reese.
Definitely not my girl.
Piper grips my arm. “Tell me what happened. The last time you talked to her.”
I blink through the haze in my head, forcing the words out like they’re made of concrete. “She was cold. Not angry. Not crying. Just monotone. Like she’d flipped a switch.”
I swallow hard, my voice breaking. “She said it had been fun. But now it was over. And then, she left. With him . Told me to stay away from them.”
My knees give, and I drop onto the couch, hands shaking as I try to hold on to something— anything —that makes this make sense.
Piper sits next to me, giving me a shake. “Griffin—think. Do you believe she’d clean out her savings for a man she didn’t care about?”
Her words slice through me, and I flash back to that moment in the ballroom—the flicker in her eyes before she looked away. Bright, desperate, terrified. For a heartbeat, I’d thought it was aimed at me. At the fury I’d unleashed on her fiancé.
But what if it wasn’t?
“She kept saying it was what she wanted,” I murmur, the memory rubbing rough against my heart.
“Or that’s what he told her to say.”
“Jesus Christ. What is going on?”
Piper crouches in front of me, her hands braced on my knees. “It’s okay. We’re going to get her back, Griffin.”
I rake my fingers over my scalp, my heart pounding. “I—I need to go. Catch the first flight to New York. I don’t need to shower. I’ll just go like this?—”
“Griffin,” Piper cuts in, standing. “You reek. They won’t let you anywhere near a plane like that. Go shower. I’ll make a few calls.”
I nod, stumbling toward the bathroom. “Okay. I’ll be fast.”
The water scalds me back to life, but it doesn’t wash away the panic twisting my insides.
I’ve rinsed off the stink of a hundred nights with strangers, but this feels different.
This isn’t sweat or smoke or sex I’m washing off—it’s Reese’s absence, burned into my skin.
And no matter how hard I scrub, it won’t come clean.
I should already be on a plane to New York.
I should already be pounding on doors, dragging her back.
Instead, I’m standing here, wasting time wondering about the truth in her words.
Wondering if I have it in me to shatter my heart a second time.
When I step out, dressed but barely cognizant, Piper’s holding my phone out toward me. “It keeps going off,” she says. “Someone named Pearl?”
“Shit,” I mutter, grabbing it from her hand. “That’s my sister.”
I swipe to answer. “Pearl?”
Her voice is tight. Broken. “Griffin, thank God. I’ve been trying to reach you.”
“What’s going on?”
She’s crying now. “It’s Dad. He had a massive stroke. The doctors don’t think he’s going to make it.”
The floor sways beneath me.
“I—I need you to come get me,” she begs. “I don’t want to go to the hospital alone. Please.”
“I’m coming,” I choke out. “Just hang tight. I’m on my way.”
I end the call and turn to Piper, barely able to find the words. “That was my sister. My dad had a stroke. A bad one.”
Piper’s face softens, mouth falling open. “Oh, no.”
“I—I need to get to Pearl.” I shove into my boots before reaching for my keys. “I have to get to the hospital. They don’t think he’s going to make it. But Reese?—”
“Griffin,” Piper steps in front of me, her voice calm, belying the fear I know she feels. “Go. Get your sister. Be with your dad.”
“But, what about Reese? What if she didn’t leave of her own accord? What if she needs me?”
“I’ll take care of it,” she says firmly. “You go be a brother. Let me be a sister. Look, maybe I’m overreacting. Maybe Reese did just run. We don’t know yet, but you’ll regret it forever if you’re not there for your dad.”
“I can’t just?—”
“You can . You have to.” She grabs my shoulders. “We’re not losing Reese. I promise—I’ll find her. I’ll get in touch with people I know in New York. Have them check her old apartment, see if they can track her down.”
Best-case scenario? That she’s fine. That she used me for a few fucks before running back to her real life. That she loves Vander and never loved me.
I hate that scenario. But it’s better than the other one—that he dragged her away, and I was too blind to see it.
My throat tightens as I nod. “Okay. Call me as soon as you know anything.”
“I will,” she says. “Now go.”
On my way out, I glimpse myself in the mirror by the door. Bloodshot eyes. Shaking hands. Bruised knuckles. A stranger stares back at me—someone I don’t want to recognize.
The woman I wanted forever with just told me I was nothing, then shoved her life savings into my palm like a severance package. Her sister’s convinced she’s been abducted. And now Pearl’s voice won’t quit echoing in my head—broken and begging. Our dad’s dying. The man I swore I hated.
I thought I had more time. With Reese. With Dad. With everything. Seems I was wrong.
The drive is a blur of asphalt and headlights, my hands strangling the wheel hard enough for my knuckles to ache. Every mile that ticks past feels like one more I’ve wasted—on silence, on avoidance, on telling myself I’d deal with it later.
I should’ve pushed Reese harder. Demanded answers instead of swallowing her lies. She wouldn’t have cut me out like that. Not if she loved me. And I know she does. Or at least, I think she does.
Doubt pricks me like a poison dart.
What if Piper’s wrong? What if Reese meant every cold, brutal word? What if I was nothing more than a diversion, and I read it exactly right?
My vision blurs, lungs seizing, thoughts spinning so fast I don’t see the headlights until a horn blares and a semi roars past, close enough to rattle my truck. I jerk the wheel back, breath tearing out of me in a harsh gasp.
If I wreck this truck, if I don’t make it in time, then I’ll have lost them both. Reese and my dad.
“Get it together, Griffin,” I snarl under my breath.
By the time I pull up at Pearl’s place, my chest feels hollowed out. My legs don’t want to carry me up the steps, but somehow I make it. The door swings open, and there she is—my sister, eyes wide with worry.
“Jesus,” Pearl whispers, taking me in. “You look awful. Worse than I do. Are you okay?”
I huff out a laugh, sounding more like a sob. “No. I’m pretty fucking far from okay.”