My mind is still reeling from the events of the day. I’d gone to the bar to find Shannon, and instead I found a wife and son.
A son. I still can’t believe it.
I lift a bottle of beer to my lips as I sit outside on the porch. It’s raining heavily and I’m only wearing a black tank top and blue jeans, but I barely feel the wind as it rips across my bare shoulders.
It’d been difficult to watch Zeke and Gracie say goodbye. A man wouldn’t be human if he didn’t get a little choked up watching his dying wife say her final goodbye to their son. I swallow past the sudden lump in my throat as I think about Grace. We hadn’t been together very long, but we’d been married fourteen years. How had they been living all these years? Had they been happy? A pang of guilt slams into my chest, leaving me breathless. I should have been there.
I swallow a mouthful of beer, glancing over my shoulder as the front screen door opens. I watch warily as Zeke steps outside, letting the screen slam shut behind him as he watches the steady downpour of rain. He hasn’t spoken a word since Grace left four hours ago, and he hasn’t said a word to me at all. “Hi, Zeke,” I say gruffly. He doesn’t look at me. “We don’t get too much rain here,” I continue, silently willing him to look at me. “But when it rains, it pours.” I chuckle at my little joke.
Zeke still doesn’t speak, doesn’t move his head in my direction at all. I sigh and drop the empty beer bottle into the grass, pushing myself up to my feet. As I pass by Zeke, I put my hand on his shoulder. It’s meant to be comforting, but honestly, I’m not sure if he even notices. I open the screen door and walk inside, grabbing another bottle of beer from the fridge on my way past. I open it and take a long swallow as I pause, wincing as I survey the cluttered living room. I hate to admit it, but I’m embarrassed. It will be forever known that my son’s first impression of his father is that he’s a messy, alcoholic dickhead. I swallow another mouthful of beer as I walk back outside. Zeke has moved to the small, two-person porch swing. I’m tempted to join him, but somehow I think I wouldn’t be too welcome. I take my seat on the steps, trying to ignore the biting chill of the rain as it hits my hand. What am I going to say to him? What can I say to him? The boy has lost his home, his mother and everything he knows in just one day. I wish Shannon was here; she always seems to know what to do.
Fresh guilt churns in my stomach. Shannon.
I was so overwhelmed—first at seeing Grace, then finding out I was responsible for a son I never knew I had—that I’d barely given her a thought all night. She has no idea what’s going on, probably thinks I’m some kind of womanizing bastard. How the hell am I supposed to tell her? Will she ever look at me the same way again? I stand up so quickly I almost spill my beer. “I have to make a phone call,” I mutter to Zeke as I pass him. I know he won’t answer me, but right now I don’t care. I need to talk to Shannon, find out if she’s all right. I walk inside the house and place my beer on the coffee table as I sit on the couch. Impatiently, I ruffle through the papers strewn on the table, searching for one in particular. I find it and close my eyes in a quick, silent prayer of thanks that Keets thought to give me Shannon’s personal house number, just in case there were any issues at the club. I reach for my cell phone on the table and dial the number, waiting impatiently as it rings. And rings . . . and rings. Feeling hollow, I hang up and sink back against the cushions, rubbing my hands over my face. I’ve fucked up, again. I have to find a way to make it up to her, to prove I’m not the bad guy she thinks I am. My hands drop from my face as I hear the front door slam. I look up in time to see Zeke disappearing into his room, closing the door behind him. Great. Could things get any more complicated?
I grab my beer from the coffee table and stand, moving out to the porch once more. It’s still raining heavily, but I can just make out the headlights of an approaching car. I recognize Keets’ truck as it pulls up in front of the house, and I chuckle in amusement as he and Ruth make a mad dash for the porch. “Wet enough?” I joke, slapping him on the back. The smile dies on my face when he pulls down the hood of his jacket and I see his eyes. “Shit, Keets, what’s wrong?” I ask, glancing over at Ruth. She’s deathly pale, her lips tinged blue from the cold. “It’s Shannon,” she says in a quiet voice, shaking her head. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and it’s suddenly very hard to breathe. “What about her?” I ask, hating the strangled sound of my voice.
“We can’t find her,” Keets answers, his eyes wide with fright.
I shake his shoulders, hard. “What the hell do you mean, you can’t find her?” I yell.
“We went to her house to see how she was doing,” Ruth explains. I glance over at her, not releasing Keets from my firm grip. “She wasn’t there.”
“Did you check the bar?” I grind out.
Keets nods. “Yeah, her car was there, and this,” she holds out Shannon’s purse. “We think something’s happened to her.”
I curse savagely and shove Keets away from me, running a hand over my head. This is all my fault. I should’ve known she couldn’t handle the crap from this afternoon. I never should have left her.
“Don’t blame yourself,” Keets says. I glance up at him in surprise. How can he possibly know what I’m thinking? He smiles gently and places a comforting hand on my arm. “We’ve been friends a long time,” he reminds me. I smile back, but it fades as I think about Shannon. Where can she be? “I have to find her,” I state out loud, glancing at Zeke as he comes outside, a curious expression on his face. “Ruth,” I start, looking at her desperately. She holds up her hand, halting my question before I even ask it. “Say no more,” she says with a smile. “I’ll stay with him for as long as it takes.” I nod gratefully as I turn and race back inside. I stop long enough to grab a flashlight and two dry jackets before rejoining them on the porch. Keets is already in the truck, headlights on as he guns the engine. I jump in and hand him one of the jackets, tossing mine in the back as I slam the door and lift my hand in a brief wave to Ruth and Zeke as Keets pulls away from the house.
“Where to first?” I ask, trying to keep the panic out of my voice. I know from all my Army training how important it is to keep a clear head. But it’s all I can do to stop from grinding my teeth together in frustration.
“I don’t know,” Keets admits. “Ruth and I already checked her house.”
“Could she have gone back into town?” I ask.
Keets ponders for a moment. “It’s possible,” he agrees. “But I doubt it. She only went back to town with us because Ruth asked her to.”
I know he’s right, but I’m prepared to try anything. “Town,” I order, sitting back in my seat and staring out at the wet road. The rain has increased, and with it the wind. I’m sure we’ll blow right off the road if we’re not careful. We drive for some time, and I’m almost dozing off in my seat when I hear Keets muttering to himself. “What is it?” I ask, sitting up straight and peering at him in the dark truck.
Keets shakes his head. “The lights are on at the stables,” he says. “There’s only one person I know crazy enough to go up there on a night like this.”
“Shannon,” I say, dropping back in my seat, sighing with relief.
Keets nods as he turns the truck down a small narrow lane. It’s dark, the high beams of the headlights the only light. A small animal darts out from behind a tree and Keets slams on the brakes, slowly inching forward. “Sorry.” He grins as he glances over at me.
I nod, my heart still in my throat. We approach the stables and Keets cuts the engine. We both slip on our dry jackets, and I grab my flashlight as I step out of the truck. I follow Keets into the stables, my eyebrows arching as he bypasses all the stalls. Clearly, he knows exactly where he’s going. He pauses at the last stable on the right and by the time I make it to his side, I can’t contain my grin. He’s leaning over the rail, stroking the nose of a large horse and speaking softly to it.