Shane (Damage Control 4)

I don’t wait to hear her answer or see what she’ll do. I’m already calling his cell and heading toward the exit, hoping my coat is still hanging where I left it. Preparing to search the whole area if needed, even as I call again and again only to be redirected to his voicemail, one thought buzzing in my mind:

Please let him be okay. I don’t care if he doesn’t love me. I don’t care if he won’t talk to me again, as long as he’s all right.

***

The street is wide and empty but for the cars parked on either side. Wedding guests. The snow is falling softly, silently, unfolding a fresh layer, a shiny white carpet. The houses are few and scattered, open spaces in between, and the trees are sighing.

Wrapping myself tightly in my coat, I walk briskly down the sidewalk, trying Shane’s cell again.

Come on. Pick up. Pick it up.

Please be okay.

I put the phone back in my pocket and walk faster, as fast as my heels allow me. “Shane! Shane, where are you?”

Behind me, I hear other voices calling his name, and something eases inside me. We’ll find him. He can’t have gone far.

“Cassie!” I turn to find Ocean jogging toward me, his blue hair unmistakable. “Erin says she saw him walk down that way.” He points to the left, where trees are swaying lightly, letting snow cascade to the ground. “She and Tyler came in late, because their kid was sick. She said—”

I’m already half-striding, half-jogging toward the trees. “He won’t answer his phone.”

“His jacket’s back at the house. Maybe his phone, too.”

“Shit.” I’m seriously thinking of ditching my shoes and running barefoot in the snow right now. “We’ll find him.”

“What happened?” Ocean is marching beside me, checking right and left as we enter the small grove. “Why is he out here without his coat and us looking for him? Did he have another of his flashbacks?”

“I don’t know.” I frown. “You know about them?”

“He’s had a few at the tattoo shop. Zane or Tyler sometimes talk him through them. Seth says…” Ocean shake his head. “He says Shane went through some pretty bad shit at the prison.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve never seen anyone fight like that,” Ocean says in a hushed voice, and there’s pain in his eyes. “Always fighting. I don’t think just anyone would have made it out of that memory sane, and yet he keeps coming back, confused and hurting and ready for the next round.”

I blink back tears. “He does.”

“He makes me wanna fight, too,” Ocean whispers, or at least that’s what I think he says, his voice barely a breath.

We’re inside the darkness of the small grove. Snow hasn’t reached the ground here. It’s so perfectly quiet.

“Shane!” both Ocean and I shout, but only a bird flutters in the branches. “Shane, where are you?”

He’s not here.

I don’t know where to find him. He’ll die out here, in the cold, alone. I’ve failed him, just like I failed Angel. I didn’t see it coming, and even if—

Ocean’s cell rings, shattering the quiet. He brings it to his ear, still turning in a circle, checking, as if Shane might materialize out of thin air.

“Yeah? What? No, we haven’t found— Shit, okay. On my way.”

“What happened?” A vise is squeezing my chest. All worst-case scenarios are playing through my head—they found him hurt, they found him dead, a car hit him, he fell in a ditch—

“Seth says someone who looked like him was seen walking in the other direction. The guys are heading that way.”

“Go ahead. I’ll slow you down.” Damn these shoes. Never thought I’d need to run in the snowed streets at night in them. “I’ll be right behind you.”

“You sure? I can wait.”