Page 86 of Only for Love

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Grayson

I’m standing at the corner of Fuck Me and Screwed after running through the hotel’s parking lot and then up the damn block. My fingers are locked behind my head as I scan the empty streets and ignore the pain surging in my side. Blood pulses around the edges of the almost-healed gunshot wound. None of this is important, though. It’s only a distraction in my hunt for her. But no matter where I go, no Emma.

I shake out my arms and stretch out the pain. Again, I hit her number in my phone. Immediate voicemail.

Fuck me.I took my eyes off her for one second to say “What the hell?” to Mazie. That was all it took for Emma to melt into the night, a ghost of a shadow that I could not track down. She’s not answering her phone—no,she’srejectingmy calls—and I don’t know my next move. I’m without allies and completely friendless in this battle zone.

“Damn it,” I shout on the street corner and pace a tight circle.

I try her cell phone again, and shit—I hate leaving messages. But this time, after the beep, I’m ready to plead. “Please call me back. It’s not what you think.”

God, am I the king of “it’s not what you think”? I shove the phone in my back pocket and storm back to the hotel. When I bust into the lobby, there’s fuckin’ crazy Mazie having a heartfelt discussion with Jessie the desk girl.Fuck me.Summerland County gossip hags are going to love this shit.

“What did you think you were doing?”

Mazie twists her fingers into a knot. “I was trying to get your AC fixed. Stupid, I know. Can’t keep my own shit together, so I jump in yours.”

“I didn’t mention where I was just to have you show up.” I feel eyes on me and pivot. Jessie is staring with rapt attention. I growl at her, and she waves at me with googly eyes. I can’t handle this place sometimes. “Let’s go, Maze.” Sure to fire up the grapevine, I hook an arm around Mazie and guide her to the stairs.

“That was her, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, that was her.” Quickly, I push open the door and take in the room, trying to see what Emma saw. It’s not hard to picture a bad outlook. There’s Mazie’s suitcase next to one bed. And, God, the horror on Emma’s face. “Damn it, Mazie. Couldn’t you have mentioned the pullout couch? Or that you weren’t stayingwithme?”

She squeezes her eyes shut. “I thought I was helping. I was worried after you blew everyone off at the hospital. Really, I’m sorry.”

My head hurts. Why isn’t Emma at home with Cally? Is she working? Where? I've come too far, and I have too much on the line to lose her—losethem. I turn to Mazie. “I have a daughter.”

Her head jerks back, then her mouth opens once, twice. “Whoa.”

“I can’t lose them.” My turmoil is brutal, as though the devil’s making waves with my soul, causing a hurricane with my heart. I want to scream, want to explode. There are so many things that I want to do—like rip the hotel room apart and beg in Emma’s voicemail for a chance to explain. But this volcano of emotion is not a PTSD attack. It’s something bigger.

“So, go over there.” Mazie’s gaze is fierce. She has a million flaws, but she’s a steadfast friend who I never doubt wants what’s best for me. “I mean, that’s what you should do, right? Find her and explain.”

“Go where? Her home? She wouldn’t leave our daughter by herself. Obviously somebody’s with Cally—”

“Cally? That’s beautiful.”

A lump surfaces in my throat. “I know.” I swallow it away. “So, Emma’s… out. Work?”

“It’s super late.”

If she’s only now heading to work… I have to wonder again how hard she’s had it while I’ve been gone.

“You have a daughter.” Numbly, Mazie trudges toward the couch and collapses. “That’s amazing.”

My phone rings. Caller ID: Emma Kingsley. I don’t even give her a chance to say hello. “Let me explain.”

Mazie pops up and points toward the door before showing herself out.

“Explain.” Em’s voice is sad and quiet and mistrusting.

“Where are you, Emma?”

“At work.”

Damn it. I knew it. “Where’s that?”

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