Searching for Beautiful(7)

The painful simmers of the past tried to push past his consciousness, but he locked it back down. He needed to focus on Gen and giving her what she needed. Wolfe ripped through his errands, buying a couple of changes of clothes, underwear, a bathing suit, a case of water, and some basic groceries. There wasn’t much selection, but the small town was perfect for hiding out for a few days. Most people came here for the recreational activities, to hit the famous racetrack at Saratoga, or to see the Baseball Hall of Fame in nearby Cooperstown.

He threw the bags into the car and reached into his pocket for his phone. Yep, it was bad. Voice mails poured in, from Alexa, Kate, Izzy, and Gen’s mom. He pondered the idea of letting Gen know. No, she wasn’t up for the consequences yet. Leaving your groom at the altar ended up with a mass of details. He’d buy her time.

Wolfe shot through the variety of messages and quickly dispersed news that gave away nothing. Alexa jumped to support her sister, and he knew he could count on her for calming down the family. Nothing from David yet. What was really going on behind the scenes with them? Was he hurting Gen? Why would she look so afraid of the man she was about to marry? Or was she just scared of hurting him?

He scrolled to the next message and shook his head. Kate was the worst. As Gen’s best friend, she was hard-core when it came to protection. He smothered a laugh at the blinking words.

If u don’t tell me where ur hiding her ur ass is grass. She needs me.

Wolfe tapped out his response:

She needs time, then my ass is all urs. Give her a day. I’m taking care of her.

The phone shrieked. Ah, crap. He stared at it for a while, but best friends were scary. He figured Kate would find a way to GPS them by the middle of the night, so he hit the button. “How is she? I’m coming to get her.”

He kept his tone polite but firm. “Not yet. You gotta give me some time. She just ran away from her wedding and needs to get her head on straight. I’m asking you for help, Kate. Help me buy her some space.”

A furious silence hummed over the line. “What’s really going on? I had no idea she’d pull something like this. I mean, I’ve been worried about her, and knew she was stressed, but this is not Gen. Has she told you why?”

“No. But I’ll find out. Is it bad there?”

A snort filled his ears. “You have no idea. It’s chaos and I’m trying to keep everyone sane. David seems heartbroken and locked himself in the room with Gen’s dad and his best man. The press smelled blood and stormed the church. Gen’s mom thought she was kidnapped, insisting she’d never run. How the hell did she end up with you?”

Wolfe dragged in a breath. “She escaped through the window and I was there. Listen, Kate, there’s something bigger going on, much more than some bridal jitters. I think she’s afraid of the son of a bitch.”

“What? Oh my God, has he hit her or something?”

“Don’t know. Just give me a few days to get the story and get her back on her feet. Please.”

He waited her out. He knew Kate was stubborn, loyal, and loved Gen like her own sister. She was also extremely intuitive. “Okay. Keep texting me updates. I’ll talk with her family and let them know she’s lying low and will explain everything later. And I’ll keep an eye on David. Maybe I’ll figure out the real issue.”

“Thanks.

He stuck his phone back into his pocket and got into the car. Something didn’t add up, but he’d find out. Meanwhile, he’d stick close to Gen for the next few days. Purity—the hotel chain he helped run with Sawyer—was doing well, so he’d put in a call to one of his assistants to keep him informed. He couldn’t remember the last time he took a day off, let alone a whole weekend. This would be good for both of them. A little fresh air, recharge the batteries, and get back into the real world.

Wolfe headed back to the cabin.





four

GENEVIEVE LOOKED UP as the car pulled into the driveway. A ghostly fog floated around her, almost as if she was stuck halfway on Earth and the other at a higher plane. She hoped much higher, since Catholic guilt from her mother was steeped in her soul. She didn’t mind the numbness though. Much better than the panic attack dancing on the edge of her sanity.

No more mirrors. Keep busy. Don’t think.

The three new rules of survival.

She jumped up from the porch and helped him haul in the bags. “You okay?” His sharp gaze traveled over every part of her, as if in the hour he’d left her alone she’d grown a few inches. Past her five-foot Hobbit status. He gently pushed her out of the way and scooped up the rest of the bags, allowing her to carry only the bread.