Major chuckled. “He’s a little overprotective, isn’t he?”
“You have no idea,” I said.
Major grinned, then stood up and sauntered down to Mase as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
Grant
“Message fifty-nine. Almost two months. I’ve never been so empty in my life. You took my soul with you. You took my heart. I’m this empty shell who goes through the motions every day, waiting for you to call me. Waiting until you answer my calls. I never imagined a life like this, but without you, I can’t imagine life. You are my life. You were what was missing in my life. I was searching so hard for something to make me feel whole. I found that with you. You lit up my world and made everything so damn bright and exciting. But now you’re gone, and I’m in a dark place, waiting. Needing to hear you. To touch you, To—”
BEEP
The end of another voice mail. It was the most dreaded moment of my day. The darkness in my life was so thick it was taking over everything. I had no way to see past it anymore. This voice mail was all I had to look forward to each day, because for three seconds, Harlow’s voice was there, telling me to leave a message. I loved that voice. I loved those three seconds.
There was a knock on the door, followed by the doorbell. I glanced down at my phone. It was after ten. No one but Rush came by anymore, and Rush had a key. I threw back my covers, reached for the discarded sweatpants on the floor, then jerked them on while I walked out of the room and toward the door.
I kicked my work boots out of the way and ignored the mud that had started collecting where I left them every day. I just didn’t care. My kitchen wasn’t in good shape, either.
Unlocking the door, I opened it to find Woods standing on the other side. Woods Kerrington was not someone I’d expect to stop by at ten thirty at night. He had a fiancée at home he should be snuggled up to. He rarely left Della’s side when he wasn’t working.
“I beat Rush here. Figures. Let me in,” Woods said, stepping inside, then glancing down at the dried mud on my floor. “I understand being depressed, but get a maid,” he said, then headed for my living room.
I had started to ask him what the hell he was doing when headlights caught my attention, and I saw Rush’s Range Rover pull in and park. What was going on?
“You got any Corona? Or just this Bud Light shit?” Woods called out from my kitchen.
I wasn’t even going to respond to that question. Uppity country-club owner.
Rush climbed the steps toward me. I watched him carefully. If this was some kind of intervention, I was beating both of their asses. I needed a good fight. Some way to release the pain.
“Relax, I’m not here to council you. Unclench your fists, and let me inside. I have something you need to hear,” Rush said as he stopped in front of me.
“Why is Woods here?” I asked, not sure I believed him.
Rush sighed and rubbed his chin. He was nervous. Shit. What did he need to tell me? “I just thought we might need some backup. What I’m gonna tell you isn’t something you’re gonna want to hear. But you need to know. So I have him here in case you react badly.”
“Is Harlow OK?” I asked, grabbing his arm as he stepped into the apartment. The instant panic that swamped me gave me the most helpless feeling I’d ever had.
“She’s fine. Let go and calm down. Let’s go in the living room,” Rush said, then shot a pointed look at my grip on his arm. I let go, and he walked past me. If Harlow was OK, I didn’t see how anything else could upset me. She was it for me. I didn’t care about anything or anyone else. Rush knew that, so his statement that Harlow was OK didn’t do much to ease my mind.
I stalked after him and found Woods on my sofa with a beer and one leg propped up on the ottoman, watching me. His eyes swung to Rush’s, then back to me. He didn’t look like he knew what this was about, either. The curiosity in his gaze wasn’t the same concerned look in Rush’s.
“Thanks for meeting me here,” Rush said, and Woods nodded his head.
“No problem. It sounded important,” Woods replied.
“Tell me what the f**k is going on,” I demanded, not willing to wait any longer. I wasn’t going to calm down, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to sit down.
Rush turned around to look at me. “Probably should sit down,” he said.
“No,” I barked.
“Didn’t think so, but I thought I’d try,” he replied. He didn’t move to sit down, either. “Mase called me about two hours ago,” he began, then ran his hand through his hair, which was a nervous habit of his.
“Is she with Mase now?” I asked, scanning the room for where I’d left my keys when I got home from work earlier. If she was in Texas, I would get on the next flight out.
“Grant. No. Stop. Listen to me,” Rush said in a sharp tone.
I swung my gaze back to his. “If she is in Texas, I’m going to motherfucking Texas! You can’t stop me. The cops can’t stop me. No one CAN. FUCKING. STOP. ME!” I roared.