Page 94 of Crashed (Driven 3)
And then of course doubt creeps in and nibbles at my resolve. Did something come up with Tawny? With his family? But if it had, he would have called me, texted me, something, right?
By the time the ceremony is over and I’ve said goodbye to the boys, my nerves are frayed. I’ve gone from concerned, to pissed, to uneasy, to angry, and as I speed up Pacific Coast Highway toward Broadbeach Road—his voicemail answering every time I hit dial—I’m sick to my stomach with worry.
By the time I reach the gates and pull into an empty driveway, I’m a freaking mess. I unlock and fling open the front door, his name a shout of my lips. But before I even make it past the kitchen, I know he’s not home. It’s not just the frantically excited Baxter that tells me but also the eerie silence in the house.
I open the sliding glass door to let Baxter out as a new thought hits me. What if something happened to his head? What if he’s injured somewhere and needs help and no one knows?
I run back to the kitchen counter and dial Haddie.
“Hey!”
“Has Colton called the house?”
“No, what’s wrong?” Concern floods Haddie’s voice but I don’t have time to go into details.
“I’ll explain later. Thanks.” I hang up on her while she’s still talking, telling myself I’ll apologize later while the phone’s already ringing for the next person.
“Rylee!”
“Becks, where’s Colton?”
“No clue, why?”
I hear a female giggle in the background and I don’t even give a second thought about interrupting whatever it is I’m interrupting. “He didn’t show up at the ceremony. Shane said he got a call and that’s the last anyone’s seen of him.”
I hear Becks tell the woman to be quiet. “He didn’t show?” Apprehension laces his voice as I hear shuffling on the other end of the line.
“No. Who’s Kelly?”
“Who?” he asks before the line goes silent for a moment. “I have no clue, Ry.”
His silence makes me question his honesty and the scattered thoughts in my mind reach my mouth. “I don’t give a fuck about man code and all that, Beckett, so if you know—I don’t care if it’s going to hurt me—you have to tell me because I’m worried fucking sick and … and …” I’m rambling frantically and I force myself to stop because I’m starting to get hysterical and I really have no reason to be, except for the intuition that tells me something isn’t right.
“Calm down. Take a breath. Okay?” I squeeze my eyes shut and get a grip. “Last I talked to him he was taking Shane out driving and then heading to the ceremony. You know—”
“Why is he not answering his phone then?”
“Ry, he’s got a lot of shit he’s sorting through, maybe he just …” He fades out, not sure what to say to me. I hear him blow out a loud breath as I walk over to shut the door Baxter’s just come in through. The house phone on the counter starts ringing and the caller ID says Quinlan. Something’s going on and the sight of her name tells me that I’m right to be worried.
“Q’s calling. Gotta go,” I tell him, switching the phone as I hear him tell me to call him back.
“Is he okay?” My words come out in a rush of air as I answer her call, anxiety causing acid to churn in my stomach.
“That’s what I was calling to ask you.” The concern in her voice rivals mine.
“What? How did you know something’s wrong?” I’m confused. I thought she knew what was going on.
“I was in class all day and had my phone off. I just turned it back on and he left a message.” I’m afraid to ask her what that message said. “He sounded upset. He rambled saying that he needed to talk to someone because his head was all fucked up. That he knows. But he didn’t say what that meant.”
Lead drops through my soul as I try to connect puzzle pieces that don’t belong together.
“Did something happen, Ry? Is it because of the miscarriage? I’ve just … I’ve never heard him sound like that before.”
Thoughts flicker and fade in my mind as I try to figure out what could have happened to Colton. And I’m already on the move and racing upstairs as my brain starts grasping at the possibilities of where he could be. “Q, I think I know where he is. I’ll call you when I know for sure.”
I toss the phone on the bed as I rush into the bathroom stripping my business suit off, leaving a trail of clothes as I go. Within minutes I’ve changed into my exercise clothes and am lacing up my shoes as fast as I can. I grab my phone and am down the stairs, out the doors leading to the deck, and racing down to the beach below.
I break out in a full sprint toward the place Colton took me on that first fateful night here, his happy place, where he goes to think. The more I think of it, the more confident I am that this is where he is. He’s probably sitting on his rock watching the sun sinking into the sea and coming to terms with everything that’s happened.
