Page 44 of The Best Bad Decision

“I’ll find out what I can.” Rick nods. “Are you good? Do you want me to call a medic?”

I shake my head. I don’t need a medic, I just need answers. I need Cam. I need to see him, to hear his voice, to know he’s safe. I need to know Maisy still has a daddy to call her for a bedtime story every night. I just need him.

We can’t lose him.

Ican’t lose him. Flashes of every moment we’ve spent together play like a movie—those homemade ones shot on a jumpy, handheld camera. His hand on my lower back as we walked and talked in Santiago. His arm slung across the back of the sofa as he sat beside me in London. His mouth on me in Singapore when I demanded he fuck me like an animal.

I’d give anything to feel that kind of desperate euphoria right now. The idea that we might have had our one and only shot, that there might never be another chance for us—it paralyses me, and I can’t breathe. It’s all of my worst fears coming true. Amie Caine, abandoned by the men in her life. Left alone, all over again.

Unsteadily, I rise to my feet. I realise that Steve, the other crew member with us, is toting my luggage as well as his own, and I offer him a weak smile of thanks. He lifts his chin in response as Erin loops her arm around my waist, supporting me as we slowly make our way through the terminal and out to the bus, where the rest of the crew are waiting for us.

Erin and Rick help me load my bags and clamber onto the bus, and Steve digs around in his bag before wordlessly handing me a bottle of water and a roll of mints. He rests a hand on my shoulder for just a moment before striding to the back of the bus and settling in for the journey to the hotel.

I collapse into my seat and tuck myself into a ball, feet beneath me and shoulders hunched. I need to brush my teeth. I need to wash my face. I need to shower this whole nightmare off my skin. I need to speak to Cam. I need to hear his voice, I need him to tell me he’s safe, I need—I need him. I need for Maisy not to lose her daddy. Not now. Not after we’ve just found him again.

His phone doesn’t even ring when I call it.

Tears burn at my eyelids, tracking their way down my cheeks and making the leap from my jaw down to my hands as my trembling fingers tap out message after message, forcing myself to wait for a response before sending the next.

Amie

What’s going on

Do you know anything?

Call me

Please

CALL ME

Are you okay

Call me please

Please Cam, call me

I need to know you’re okay

Cam please call me immediately

For fuck’s sake Cam call me

Please be okay

But there is no response. No dots, no blue ticks. The messages are delivered, but they’re not read. There are over two hundred unread messages in my inbox, and when I tap the app icon, I see they’re mostly from my best friends. More than sixty of them mention me directly.

ROO

@Amie what’s going on?

@Amie ??????

Katy

Roo, she’s probs still flying

Lolo

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