Page 84 of Resist

“I just…” Her voice broke. “I just need you.”

He grabbed his keys. “I’ll be there as quick as I can.”

Ainsley didn’t say goodbye, just disconnected the call.

Coulton raced to the door. “Ainsley just called. Something’s wrong.”

“You need us to come with you?” Dad offered.

“No. I’ve got it. I’ll text you as soon as I figure out what’s going on.”

“We’ll be here if you need us,” Mom reassured him.

Coulton made the drive from his place to Cherry Hill in record time. Luckily, traffic was relatively light, as most people had already done their traveling for the holiday and were most likely tucking into their turkey feasts.

When he opened the door to Mick’s Tavern, he thought perhaps he’d missed Ainsley, because the lights were off and the place appeared to be deserted. Which didn’t make sense, considering the door was unlocked.

“Ainsley,” he called out, walking toward the bar.

“Here,” her soft voice replied, and he paused, turning to find her tucked into the corner of a booth.

Coulton walked closer, but with the lights out, the room was too dim for him to make out her face. So he returned to the front door, locking it before turning on the lights.

Ainsley’s head was bowed, her hair hanging around her face like a curtain.

He lowered himself onto the seat next to her. “Ainsley,” he said gently, using one finger under her chin to tilt her face toward him.

Jesus.

What the hell had happened? When he left her Tuesday morning, she’d been all smiles and flushed cheeks. Now, just two days later, he suspected a light breeze could blow her over. She was pale, except for the circles under her eyes that were so dark she looked like she had two black eyes. To make matters worse, he swore she’d lost weight she didn’t have to lose.

“Angel,” he said, drawing her into his arms. She sank into him almost bonelessly.

“I’m sorry I called you,” she murmured against his chest.

He pulled back slightly, cupping her cheek. “I always want you to call me.”

“I know your parents are in town.”

He leaned his head forward, forcing her to hold his gaze. “Always call me,” he stressed. “Always.”

She blinked a few times, before finally just closing her eyes for good.

“What happened?” he asked.

“The hospital called a little while ago. Mick died.”

Coulton’s chest tightened, his heart aching for Ainsley. While she’d never been close to her dad, it was clear she was in pain.

“I’m sorry.”

She started to shrug but stopped, unable to brush off her feelings this time. “I’m tired,” she said, her eyes still closed.

“I know you are. Do you want to talk about it?”

He half expected her to ignore his question, so he was surprised when she opened her eyes and nodded.

Coulton listened as she took him step by step through the past hellish twenty-four hours. Every word she said sliced through him like daggers, as he considered her going through the nightmare alone.

---