Chapter 69
GAbrIEL
With a deep breath, I dismount from my bike and walk toward the edge of the dock, the old wooden planks creaking beneath my weight.
My phone buzzes incessantly in my pocket, each vibration a jarring interruption to the solitude I seek. With a frustrated sigh, I finally reach into my pocket and turn the damn thing off, silencing the persistent notifications that have plagued me since parting ways with Cecilia.
As I gaze out at the vast expanse of the ocean, lost in my own thoughts, a voice interrupts my solitude.
“Gabriel?”
I stiffen at the sound, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. Turning, I see my father approach, his figure outlined against the soft glow of the setting sun.
His presence is both unexpected and unwelcome, but I suppress the urge to tell him to go away.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, my tone sharp and not at all respectful.
He grimaces as he draws closer, lingering only a few feet away from where I’m seated with my legs hanging over the dock’s edge.
“I spotted your bike in the parking lot as I was driving by,” he explains. “I just wanted to check on you. I know this is where you come when something’s wrong.”
I nod, a begrudging acknowledgment of his observation.
Pier 39 has always been my sanctuary, a place to escape to when the chaos of my thoughts becomes too much.
I don’t come here often anymore. Lately only on the anniversaries of Carlos’s death.
But today, I don’t know, today I needed the ocean to help clear my thoughts away.
“I’m fine,” I reply curtly, turning my gaze back to the lapping waves.
My father sighs, his breath forming a cloud of mist in the chilly air. “You’re dressed awfully nice,” he says. “Almost like you just came from a wedding.”
My jaw tightens.
“You knew about that?”
He sighs and moves a few steps closer. “I did. I’ve known about the wedding for a couple of months now,” he says softly. “Today was the big day. Did you go?”
I tense at the mention of the wedding, the wound still raw in my chest. “Yeah,” I mutter, my voice barely above a whisper. “I went.”
“How was it?” he asks.
“How do you think it was?” I scoff. “She’s replaced us with a new family. A new husband and two new sons now, in case you were wondering.”
My father’s expression darkens with sympathy. “I’m sorry, mijo.” His voice is heavy with regret. “I tried calling you when I found out. I didn’t want you to be blindsided.”
His words offer little comfort.
Sighing, I lean back against the dock, the rough texture of the wood digging into my palms.
“Whatever. Not sure why I expected anything different.”
He steps closer again before gingerly sitting down beside me.
“Your Mom and I, we were hurting after your brother passed away,” he murmurs.
“It’s not an excuse,” he adds when I open my mouth to respond.
“Simply an observation. You didn’t deserve what we did.
You were hurting too, and we turned our backs on you when you needed us most.” He stares up at the sky.
“Nunca me perdonaré por cómo te tratamos.” I will never forgive myself for how we treated you.
“Pero si me lo permites, me gustaría intentar ganarme tu perdón.” But if you'll let me, I'd like to try earning your forgiveness.
“No sé si pueda hacer eso, papá.” I don’t know if I can do that, Dad.
He nods. “Cuando estés listo.” Whenever you’re ready.
He sits with me in silence as we watch the sky turn from pink to purple as night begins to take over.
He doesn’t ask me any questions. He doesn’t push.
He just sits with me, lending me his strength with nothing more than his presence as we listen to the gentle lapping of the waves against the shore.
“I just ... I don’t get it, papá,” I admit, breaking the silence. “How could she move on like this? How could she just replace Carlos and me?” I’m still here, I want to tell him, but instead, I keep that last part to myself.
My father reaches out, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. “I wish I had the answers, mijo,” he says softly. “But sometimes, hurt people, hurt people. And your mamá, she’s been hurting for a very long time.”
I nod, his words sinking in despite my resistance.
“I should get going,” my father says, breaking the quiet once again. “But I’m always here if you need to talk. I mean that.”
I offer him another small nod, a silent acknowledgment of his offer. As he turns to leave, I’m left alone once again, the weight of his words lingering in the air. Hurt people, hurt people. That’s exactly what I did to Cecilia today.
With a heavy sigh, I pull out my phone and power it back on. As soon as the screen illuminates a call comes in, and seeing Felix’s name flash across the screen, I answer it.
"Where are you? I've called you at least a dozen fucking times," Felix says, his voice strained with concern.
I sigh, running a hand through my hair as I stride back toward my motorcycle.
"Relax. I'm just now leaving the pier," I tell him as I reach my Cbr1000. “I’ll be home soon.”
"Have you heard from her at all? Cecilia?" he asks, a worried edge sharpening his tone. He has a right to worry after I dumped her on him with no explanation and refused to answer my phone for what’s now been—I glance at the clock on my screen—roughly two hours.
But damn, give a guy some room to breathe. It’s only been a few hours, and after the day I’ve had, a little alone time isn’t unwarranted.
Rolling my eyes, I straddle my bike, prepping my helmet as I connect my phone to its built-in bluetooth speaker.
"If I wasn't answering your calls, I sure as fuck wasn't answering hers either," I say tersely. I know I lashed out, and she didn’t deserve it. I have some apologizing to do, but that doesn’t mean my anger at today's events has been completely washed away.
Felix curses under his breath, and something in his tone makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on edge.
"What—" I begin right as he interrupts.
"You need to get your ass home. Now."
"What’s wrong?” I demand, my grip tightening on the phone as I buckle my helmet and start the engine. "What happened?"
"Holt happened. He was released on bail an hour ago."
The fuck? "Are you shitting me right now?" I ask in disbelief, my jaw clenched. “The officers we spoke with said Holt didn’t have a chance of being released before his trial.” This shouldn’t be happening. There has to be some kind of mistake.
Holt went after Cecilia before just for suspecting she was behind him getting suspended from the team. Who knows what that psycho will try now that he's facing attempted murder charges?
“How the hell did that asshole make bail?”
"I don’t know, man. But he did. Time to end the pity party and get your ass back here so we can figure out our next move.” Felix says, his voice grim.
"Does Cecilia know?" I ask, immediately worried as I peel out of the pier, weaving into late-night traffic. I take a left and head toward her place. I doubt she’ll talk to me right now. Not after the way I acted, but that’s fine.
She doesn’t need to talk to me. I just need to see her. To make sure she’s home and safe.
"That's what I'm trying to tell you, Gabe. No one's been able to get a hold of Cecilia since he got out. She's not answering her phone, and I went by her place as soon as we got the news. She isn't home and her parents don’t know where she is.”
An icy dread trickles down my spine at his words, my pulse kicking up as I lean into a turn.
“Where did you drop her off?”
“Where you told me to,” he snaps. “I took her straight home after you left. But that was more than two hours ago. I spoke with her dad when I stopped by and he said she wasn’t there.
She went out shortly after I dropped her off, but she didn’t tell him where she was going.
I don’t know if she’s somewhere on campus or in town on her own ignoring her phone or if—"
"If he took her," I finish grimly, adrenaline flooding my veins as I accelerate.
“Yeah,” Felix confirms.
I clench my jaw, urging my bike faster through the streets. “Fuck.”
Felix clears his throat. "You need to get back here so we can start looking for her. We need a plan—"
"No time to waste," I interject tersely. "I'm going to find her before that psycho can hurt her again.” Assuming it's not already too late, a voice in my head whispers. I grit my teeth, forcing the thought away. "Call Adriana, see if Cecilia's with her. Then get to PacNorth. I'll meet you there."
I use the bluetooth control on my helmet to hang up with Felix before glancing at my phone's screen.
My fingers tap her name before I can stop myself, hoping that maybe, just maybe, if she’s not answering Felix’s call, she’ll answer mine.
The line trills once. Twice.
"Come on, pick up," I mutter, weaving recklessly between cars.
Voicemail.
I hang up and hit redial, barely avoiding a sedan as it changes lanes.
Ringing echoes in my helmet. My pulse throbs in my temples.
Why isn’t she answering?
"Cecilia!" I shout when her voicemail picks up again. "Call me back. Please! Holt made bail. Where are you? I need to know you’re somewhere safe.”
I redial again.
And again.
And again.
Each time, it goes straight to voicemail.
Fuck. I shove my phone into my pocket, hands gripping the bars of my bike so hard that my knuckles blanch.
She has to be okay. She has to ...
I lean forward on my bike, pushing it to dangerous speeds. Lamp posts streak by in a haze. Every one of my nerve endings is alight with fear.
Hold on, Cecilia. I'm coming.
I race into the night, the city flying by in a blur. There's a thrumming urgency in my veins screaming that if I don't find Cecilia soon, it'll be too late. The thought makes my chest constrict. I have to find her.
I can’t be too late.