Chapter 30
THIRTY
WEST
Who Saw You Leave?
The bedsheet grows cold at my side the moment Winnie gets up to leave.
I let her go, inhaling slowly as she creeps from the room.
Her footsteps are slow and soft, measured like she’s trying not to keep me awake.
Interestingly, that only serves to reverse her purpose.
I keep the smirk off my face, barely, as she patters about, collecting her things.
The door shuts behind her, and the apartment loses some of its warmth.
Instead of chasing after her, I lie back in the cold bed, lacing my hands behind my head.
This is the second time I’ve slept beyond dawn in years.
Winnie is doing something to me that I can neither explain nor change.
I’m okay with that, as long as she is. And the fact that she didn’t want to wake me or rush out the door says that maybe we will have that talk later that Lanie promised me.
Together.
I let the sunlight fill the room, rising along the sheets and over my toes, not flinching when it reaches my shins. I can’t remember the last time that I’ve lain in the sunlight alone and simply not done anything. And so I let my memory wander, warming the sheets with her phantom touch.
We collapsed on the floor together afterward.
I held her until her soft sobs started, letting out what she came to me for last night.
Her tears coated my chest in a different sort of slick.
Salt—not earned beneath a blazing sun and encrusted in dirt that I was used to working in, but the emotional sort.
Winnie curled into the space I created for her and released more than the tension that eked from her muscles earlier when I fucked her. When she let me.
I picked her up afterward and carried her to my bed. She never said a word, letting me tuck her into my arms, and rested her cheek over my heart.
Neither of us have ever slept so well, apart from the night we shared together at Coyote Falls. For an anxiety bomb of a traumatized woman and an insomniac, that’s saying something.
I ferret for my phone to send her a message, but it’s nowhere in sight. A quick search of the apartment locates it in the living area. I forgot to plug the ancient device in overnight, and the damn thing is dead as hell. Letting out a groan, I scrounge for my charger, but that’s gone AWOL as well.
Closing my eyes, I sink back onto the bed. I don’t need to check my truck to know I’ve left the damn thing in Coyote Falls, and I don’t feel like another road trip right now. The sun climbing up my legs promises me that the shops won’t be open for at least another few hours.
The chat with Lanie will have to wait. Not that I mind much about that.
She’ll have ripped Winnie a new one by now, I’m sure.
Guilt hits me that I’m not with her to share the burden.
Groaning, I shove up from the bed and scrub my hands over my face.
Looks like I’m going hunting for an all-night store to buy a phone charger after all.
Three hours later, I acknowledge I should have stayed in bed.
My original plan was better, and more realistic.
Instead, for the last three hours I’ve discovered every nook and cranny of Cloakton.
I’ve also discovered that early in the week, everything opens after nine in the morning, and there are no all-night stores.
In any case, I’ve also cleaned out my emails and replied to the Rand Enterprises board, who have approved my designs for the building I showed to Winnie.
John Lancaster had a hand in getting the project across the line, I’m certain.
Which means I have a solid wage and work ongoing for the next few years.
One problem down that I can close out with Winnie.
Lanie too, because I know she’ll ask. Both of them know I have my own funds.
Rand paid me for all the years of building his homestead and the hours I’ve put in at Coyote Falls.
With no significant other during that time and nothing to spend that income on, that income has sat dormant in my bank account.
At least now it might have a use.
My phone reaches a sufficient amount of charge where it’s able to live again. The first ping brings a smile to my face. Back when Cord first insisted I buy the thing, I wanted to throw it. Now his sister is the one I want to hear from. The irony doesn’t escape me.
A few more pings come through. I reach over idly and grab for the device, still typing out an email one-handedly to close off the Haiti project, which seems to have run through without a hitch. A miracle in itself. The weather—and the clay soil—has held up, along with the bridge.
The toilets that were built are in use, and the local town has access to both fresh water and a hygiene system that improves their quality of life.
I’m calling that a win, and feedback looks solid so far.
I’ll check in again in a few weeks and then months afterward to make sure everything is still standing the way it should, and schedule a site inspection for two weeks, then six, due to the season and the soil type.
My phone pings several more times in rapid succession. I shake my head, a smile growing across my face. “Winnie, Winnie,” I murmur. “Already?” The handset is warm from charging, but at least the little red line has changed to yellow, for now. I flick open the app and pause.
They’re not here. I can’t find Sally.
Why would Lanie go somewhere and not tell me? I should never have left.
I’ve checked the hospital. Cord doesn’t know either.
Pick up. Fucking hell.
Where are you?
Did you actually sleep?
Pick up the damn phone, West.
Call me as soon as you can.
I run through the messages, tasting her distress, and hit call.
“Winnie?”
“West?” Her voice is close. Close enough to echo.
It takes me all of five seconds to cross my apartment floor and yank my door open. “Ah, shit. Winnie—”
Winnie’s tear-stained face greets me. Her eyes are bloodshot. Whatever peace we stole together, it’s not anywhere near enough to combat this.
“I can’t find them,” she whispers. “I can’t find anyone. Not even you.”
The anguish in her voice hits me at chest level. I grip her arms and pull her into me, wrapping her up tight. “I’m sorry. My phone—” I curse softly, kicking the door shut with a thud, and turn my back to it. “Tell me everything.”
It’s been hours since she left. Christ, has she been distraught and searching since then?
And she didn’t run straight back to me. Because Winnie tried to solve this herself.
Didn’t hit the panic button until she found no other alternative.
My head streams with curses as I smooth her hair back from her face.
“I got home and she wasn’t there. I checked the townhouse. The courtyard out the back, though it’s frigid and there’s not much to check. Then her room. Her bed is rumpled, but it’s cold. And Lanie’s bed hasn’t been slept in. The sofa is a mess. The door was unlocked. The cars are there. My house…”
“Yeah?” I keep my voice calm. “You said you checked the hospital for Lanie, right?”
“That’s the first place I called. Then I went anyway because I know dispatch isn’t always the most reliable.”
I smile and press a kiss on her forehead. “Okay, so you did that. Is there anywhere else Lanie might go if she needs medical attention? Is there a birthing center or a doula or anything else?”
Winnie stops crying and looks up at me. “Wow. You even pronounced it right.”
“Thank you. Let’s get some water into you. We’re gonna make a plan.” My stomach is tight. “And you called Cord?”
“He’s driving down, in case she’s heading up to him for some reason.”
“Yeah, that’s a good plan.”
It’s a shit plan, but right now I’ll agree with whatever in the hell she wants me to say to get her to settle and think it through.
I stroke her hair and fetch her a washcloth with cool water while she rehydrates.
“Thank you,” Winnie murmurs, letting me care for her as I know she would for others.
“It’s okay. Have you called the police?”
She stares at me, her lips parting. She swallows. Nothing comes out. “I—No. Lanie—”
“Could have been in an accident. I’m sorry, but I think we have to look at this from all angles. Let’s make the call. Do you want me to do it?”
Winnie’s eyes blaze and clear as determination sets in. “No. I’ve got this.” She speaks quietly and calmly. I let her grip my hand, digging her nails in as she talks and then hangs up. Her shoulders slump. “Nothing.”
“Okay. I’m—” Not in the freaking least sorry that there’s no report. “I’m glad that’s done. Now they know at least that you’ve called.”
“Yeah. Someone knows.” Her hands drift across my knees as I sit at the kitchen table and pull her down next to me. “I want to be out there.”
“I get that. And we will be. In a literal minute. Have you eaten today?”
Winnie glares at me. “I do not need to eat.”
“You’ve been running on adrenaline since you left me, by the sounds of it. We didn’t get much sleep last night, and your shift was emotional. The whole weekend. Winnie. I’m going to feed you on the way there. Let me. You need it if we’re going to sort this out. Understood?”
Her shoulders snap rigid in a tight line. For a moment I think she’s going to fight me, but then her back bows. “All right.”
“Good.” I wrap an arm around her and tug at the hoodie she’s wearing. “At least you stole something warm of mine. Let’s get something useful into you and start calling Sally’s friends’ parents and the school.”
“I checked the school. She’s not there. They—They marked her absent.”
“Okay.” Shit. I’d been hoping. “Let’s still check with some friends’ parents just in case Lanie dropped her off there and went somewhere for whatever reason, okay?” My mind niggles. I don’t want to drop this bomb on her, but I’m about to.
“Okay.” Winnie downs more water and grabs her phone. “All right. Let’s go.”
“Winnie.” I press my lips together and pray she’ll forgive me.
Winnie turns to me, her eyebrows raised in her classic hurry the fuck up, cowboy, look. Any other day, it’d be cute as hell. Today… I just want to hold her forever.
“Is there any chance that Brad is around?”
Those pretty eyes I adore glaze with fear at the simple mention on his name. I grip her arm as she backs up, already shaking her head. “No.”
“Win—”
“I said NO.” Winnie yanks herself free of my grasp, her chest heaving. “Why would you even—”
“You said the door was unlocked.” She’s going to hate me forever. I actually don’t care, as long as I’m wrong. If I’m right, then we need to act, fast.
“Sometimes it sticks.” Denial juts her chin out.
I nod. “Okay. Who do you need to call to confirm that he’s still in rehab? It’s within operating hours.” Not that a place like that ever really closes. “Place a welfare call.”
Winnie meets my stare head-on. For a girl who wanted to move moments before, suddenly, she’s rock-solid in her stance. I know this version of her and I understand her. But I also don’t have the time to wait for her like I usually do.
My mouth opens to fight her, knowing I might shatter everything we’ve built. The trust, the peace, the calm—all of it feels like a Band-Aid fix over the trauma of a man who’s still haunting her.
“I’ll call. I’ll call now.” Defiance wars with desperation in her sapphire gaze.
Desperation that I’ve seen in eyes just like hers before when the world spun out of his control. Rand’s. A different sibling, looking up at me like that. Cordell’s face overshadows hers, and it takes me a moment to shake the vision away.
I nod and hook my ankle around hers. Not to hold her in place, but to show her I’m here. “All right. I’m not going anywhere until you’re ready.” My thumb already taps out a message to Cord.
Because we both know the outcome of this call, even though our hopes are the same.
And four minutes later, after waiting through every excruciating second, Winnie hangs up and stands. “Let’s go back to my place.”
I watch her warily. “Are we waiting for Lanie to come home on her own?”
She shakes her head, her eyes blazing. “No. Because I need the police to meet me there. Brad was released yesterday afternoon.”