“You know there’s the entire rest of the couch, right?” I ask, but she bats half-heartedly at my hand as I retrieve the phone.
Wyatt:Have you guys heard from Javi?
I frown at my phone for a moment, then take a second to go through my texts.
Me:Not since Tuesday
Gideon:Tuesday was the last time
Gideon:Have you?
Me:You?
Wyatt: No
Wyatt: Fuck. Hold on.
A swirl of dread curls through me, like I’ve just swallowed something cold.
It’s nothing, I tell myself. He lost his phone or forgot to charge it or threw it in the ocean as an offering to the gods of the sea or something. Javier’s kooky. He’s forgetful. He does things like that sometimes and then shows up a day later with ink stains all over his hands, sand in his pockets, and a grin on his face.
But a day, maybe. Not—fuck—five days that none of us have heard from him.
I’m already shoving my laptop off my lap and standing. Beast protests and I stop long enough to scratch her behind the ears again. Where’s Zorro? Someone’s taking care of Zorro, right?
I call Wyatt, but his phone’s busy. I’m pacing. I head into the kitchen, get a glass of water, stare out the window, try to get my thoughts into order, but all I can think is: Wyatt’s worried. Wyatt doesn’t worry, but he does have an uncanny sixth sense about his two best friends in the world: Javier and Lainey.
Fuck.
I need to do something, so I make myself useful and call Javier’s sister Thalia, who lives a couple hours away in Ochreville. She hasn’t heard from Javier either and she doesn’t believe me when I tell her that it’s nothing and she shouldn’t worry.
Fuck.
I call a couple other people Javi knows, but no one’s got any useful info. I’m standing in my kitchen, wondering if he’s a missing person yet, when my phone rings with a FaceTime call from Wyatt.
“His sister hasn’t heard from him,” I say. On the bottom of the screen, Wyatt looks pale and tired in a tiny screen, and Gideon’s jaw is clenched.
“Bastien said he left Wednesday night,” Wyatt says. “Out of the blue. Bastien was out, got back, and Javier was putting his suitcase into his car. Said he was coming back here.”
There’s a long, silent pause as we all stare at each other.
“You talk to his mom?” I ask, and Wyatt shakes his head.
“Bastien said he would. Seemed better.”
I’ve only met Javier’s mom once, but I know she’s had a rough few years, mostly thanks to her estranged husband.
“I assume he told you about his father,” Gideon says.
“He told me he’d been calling,” I say, and Wyatt nods.
“Fuck,” Wyatt hisses, one hand over his mouth.
Gideon blows out a breath, running his hand through his dark hair.
“I’m gonna head up to Wildwood,” he says. “I’ll let you know.”
“Where’s Zorro?” I ask, watching Beast stand and stretch on the couch.