Page 18 of The Interception
The disappointment is palpable between them, but it only fuels my jealousy. Jealousy? Am Iseriouslyjealous of these two? Just fortalkingto Layne? I shouldn’t be. She’s not mine, and it doesn’t make sense. There’s nothing to be jealous over, right?
She tugs me aside and relaxes when we’re far enough from the crowd to speak in hushed whispers. “Thank you. I’ve had a headache for the last half-hour, and I really want to shut my eyes for a few minutes.”
“You mean Jonas and his stimulating conversation caused your brain to attempt escape through your skull? Yeah, he does that to me too.”
Layne, through her aching head, laughs and pinches my arm. “Yeah, I got the feeling he doesn’t like you much, but he’s harmless. Kind of stuck on himself, but generally not someone I’m too worried about.”
“Second place three years in a row has made him bitter.” I wink down at her, which makes her smile widen. “Want me to walk you to your truck?”
“I think I can make it the fifteen feet to the lot, but thanks.” She parts from me, and I watch her head to the lot before I am once more dragged away by a long-time competitor.
I’m lost in conversation this time, catching up with an old friend from across the country, when I realize how much time has passed. Half an hour since I’ve seen Layne. “Would you excuse me? I need to make sure my partner is okay. She had a headache a bit ago.”
“Sure, no problem. I can’t wait to see what you two cook up next round. Those meatballs were delicious,” she says.
“Sure thing.” I edge away and let someone else take her attention before searching for Layne. I don’t see her around the fire, so I assume she’s still napping. It’s almost midnight, and I’m not crazy about the idea of her sleeping in her truck in a stadium parking lot all night. I peer into the tinted windows of the truck, but she’s not there. Not in the back, nowhere.
Calling her finally occurs to me, but it’s a dead end. Three calls lead me nowhere but to her voicemail, so I head back to the bonfire. Surely, she didn’t leave with someone and not mention it to me. I try not to let panic or jealousy cloud my judgment, but I have no idea where she has gone off to.
My phone vibrates. “Oh, thank goodness,” I say, assuming it’s Layne. It’s not. It’s Sarah Beth.
“Hey, what’s up?” I ask, working to hold in the panic.
“Just wondering if you’re okay? You said you’d be home by ten. I’m not trying to play mother hen, but I was worried.”
“Yeah, on my way. Just looking for Layne to say bye.”
“Okay. Would you mind stopping for some cold medicine on the way?”
“Oh no, is Lula sick?”
“Yeah. She’s sniffly and congested. You remember the kind I get, right? Not the nasty chemical stuff. The good one.”
“Of course. Only the best for my princess munchkin. I’ll grab it at that twenty-four-hour pharmacy on the way. Get some rest. I’ll be home soon.”
“Thanks, En.”
I get off the phone with my sister and try to do another sweep of the bonfire. I still don’t see Layne. With a sigh, I head to my truck. I’m sure she’s fine. I’ll get the medicine for Lula, then try calling her again. The pharmacy isn’t far, so I run in, get the goods, and head back out to the truck. It takes another fifteen minutes to get home, filled with worry about what happened to my partner. Worst-case scenarios begin to play in my mind.
I check my phone to ensure she hasn’t messaged me. Worry has me ready to go back to the bonfire site and look for her some more, but I need to check on my niece and deliver the medicine first. I’ll run in, tell Sarah Beth what I’m doing, then head back out to look for Layne. I try to control my panic so I don’t scare my sister, but I’m starting to really freak out.
Sliding out of my truck, I pull up her number to call her again. I slam the door and turn to head inside when someone shoots up in the back seat of my truck and releases a blood-curdling scream. It startles me so badly, I drop my phone and the pharmacy bag, and yell.
Once I swallow my soul back down into my body, I yank the door back open to find Layne sitting up, panting, with her hand over her chest, eyes focused on the windshield in front of her.
“Layne!” I pull the seat forward and offer my hand to help her out. “What are you doing in the back seat of my truck?”
She looks around, orienting herself. “Your truck? This is…wait a minute.” After looking around again, she presses her hand to her forehead. “I’m such an idiot. Your truck and mine are thesame. I can’t believe I crawled into the back of your truck and fell asleep.”
I chuckle, mostly relieved that she’s safe and sound, but also a little excited that she’s here with me and not with some other guy at the bonfire. Or worse, because all those horrible scenarios flash in my mind again.
“How’s your head?”
“Still terrible.” Layne massages her temples. “Worse after waking up screaming.”
Relief floods my body. She’s okay. “Here, come inside and let me get you something, then I can take you back to your place. We can get your truck in the morning.”
Rather than argue with me, she relents and I lead her to the front door. “I can’t believe I did that.”
