Sound of Silence(60)

My dick twitches. Not cool when it's Leah sitting next to me rather than Piper. "How's the band?"

Music was always Leah's thing, guitars and solos. After I went in one direction, she went in another and made a name for herself on the indie circuit.

"We signed with a label last year. The new album is due out next month."

"Nice job, Blue." Her old nickname rolls off my tongue like no time has gone by.

"Half the band is in town. You should come by for a sound check. Bring Piper; I'd like to get to know her."

"Let me know a good time and I will if I can make it happen," I say. "I'm leaving town for a few days after the wedding."

"Are you coming back?"

"Yeah, yeah. It's a quick trip to D.C. Gus is staying behind with Tess. Hey, did I tell you I got a dog?"

She shakes her head.

"A big, fluffy white one. Well, he was small when I found him, but he's grown into his bones, and he was forty pounds at his vet check last week. Going to be big, that Gus. Really big guy." I pat my pockets for my phone to show her a picture.

"Looking for this?" She pulls my cell from the back of her jean shorts. "I found it in the sand and thought I'd better hold onto it until you got up."

"Thanks." I swipe across the glass to check the call log out of habit. No missed call, but an answered incoming one from Piper is recorded at four.

My pulse explodes like a grenade. It's ten-thirty now, and I don't remember speaking with her. Yet it looks like I did.

"Did you . . ." My mouth is as dry as the Sahara, and I lick my lips. "Did you talk to Piper?"

"Only for a second after you had finally fallen asleep. I offered to wake you."

"Fuck." I drag my hand through my hair and then stand.

I'm a certifiable idiot. I scroll to Piper's number and pray she picks up even as I back away from Leah. She smiles as I inch toward the cliff that will take me home. Voicemail.

"Tell Cara I'm sorry. I'm bailing on wedding prep."

"Go get her, tiger," she says, raising her mug in farewell.

I turn away from yesterday to find my tomorrow, running across the sand and then through the trees and over rocks to get to Piper. As soon as I make the clearing by the house, I call to her, and again when I burst through the back door. Gus jumps and whines, but then barrels past me to do his business on the lawn. 

"Piper." I say her name over and over, and yet every time I'm met with silence until Gus returns and walks through each room with me-empty but for clothes, toys, and furniture.

"Where is she, boy?" I kneel to grab his scruff, my heart galloping. Where would she go? He whines, breaking away to run for the door.

The cottage. She holds the lease through the end of the month. Okay, she has to be there. My pulse slows by a fraction, and I call her cell again while peeking out the front window. The Audi's gone. No answer. I leave a message, and then I send her a text. I'm sorry. We need to talk. Where are you? Rushing into my bathroom, I shower off sand and fifteen hours of filth.

No reply from Piper when I'm out and toweling dry, or as I dress. I pull on a flannel shirt and walk to the front door at the same time. Gus runs ahead to the truck, climbing in as soon as the cab is open. I call again on the way to the cottage. When I turn down the street to find the driveway missing a white Audi, I try Mom.

"Where's Piper?" I ask when she picks up.

"Caden?"

"When did you last see her?"

Something's wrong. My heartbeat cranks up, and I funnel the added adrenaline into steady breaths as if I were entering a warzone. Crisp clarity strikes as I track around Piper's old property looking for signs of entry, forced or otherwise. "Call the sheriff and ask about accidents and then call me. I'll take care of hospitals."

"Caden, where are you?"

"Piper's old place. Call the sher-"

"Stop and listen to me. They're in Brandon at St. Mary's."

The words intensive care send me to my knees. Fear I've not felt since Justin died and my dad disappeared fills my chest. I've lost two of the most important people in my life; I won't lose Piper and JT. "I need them." The truth explodes like an IED in my mind, discharging memories into shrapnel.

Three vehicles move across Afghanistan.

No. Not now. I stumble to my truck.

I'm in the third.

Fuuuuck. I grab my hair and wrench it for the pain to bring me back from the past. Breathe, goddamn it. Pulling myself into the cab, I take the wheel.

Justin sits next to me.

I turn toward the passenger window and there he is-slicked back blond hair and a jagged goatee. His eyes lean toward gray rather than blue, exactly how I remember them.

"Fuck you," I say and mean it before emotion tightens my throat. "Fuck you," I say again, because I miss the goddamn bastard and it's good to see him.