Page 48 of One More Shot
‘Yeah.’
I wait a beat until I realise that’s as much of a response as I’m going to get without any prompting. ‘Did she say what she wanted?’
‘Dunno.’ In the background, I can hear the sounds of explosions and gunfire. He’s playing a video game. I don’t know why that pisses me off more than Leanne and her hair routine taking precedence over Nan, but it does.
‘You didn’t ask?’ I grit out. ‘You know Nan wouldn’t callyou unless it was an emergency and you just – You didn’t even think to check in on her?’ I see red as anger erupts inside me. ‘What the fuck is wrong with you, Josh?’
I hear the sound of wood scraping back and Josh shifting in his seat. ‘Listen, yeah—’
I end the call before I have to hear what I assume will be a pathetic attempt at an excuse. ‘I need to go.’
Dane nods and immediately starts carving a path through the crowd for me. ‘I called an Uber. It’s waiting outside.’
Ever since I noticed the missed calls from Nan, I’ve been drowning in a sea of emotions. Guilt. Worry. Anger. They’ve been all-consuming and threatening to swallow me whole.
But, as Dane tucks me into his side, leading me out of the heaving club and into the Uber he has waiting, another emotion starts to emerge.
I don’t fully realise what it is until the Uber is hurtling down the street and Dane is sitting by my side, giving my thigh gentle and reassuring squeezes every few seconds.
It’s gratitude.
Chapter SixteenDANE
Eliott hasn’t said a word.
Every so often she’ll try to call Gloria again, but it keeps going straight to answerphone and I can feel the tension in her building up.
I don’t know what to do or say to make this better. All I know is that I desperately want to. The look on her face – the panic, the fear, the anger – I want to wipe it all away and make sure she’s never in a situation that makes her feel like this again.
I’ve never felt like this before. Hopeless. Worried for someone other than myself. At a loss for what to do.
I feel a sudden urge to message Cash. This feels like something inhiswheelhouse – not mine.
Eliott keeps her gaze fixated on her phone, like she’s afraid if she glances away, even for a second, she’ll miss something and her world will come shattering down around her.
‘We’re almost there,’ I murmur as our driver takes us down a familiar street. I give her thigh another squeeze and she relaxes, ever so slightly, into my touch.
‘What if she’s fallen again?’ Her voice is something quieter than a whisper. ‘What if she’s hurt and she’s just lying there, waiting for someone?’ Her chest heaves and I can tell she’s working her way up to tears. ‘And we’ve all just been ignoring her all night.’
‘You weren’t ignoring her.’
She looks up at me, her expressive, caramel eyes shiny with unshed tears. ‘Twelve missed calls, Dane.Twelve. She needed me and I was… What? What was I doing that was so important?’
‘You were living your life,’ I say firmly. ‘Having a good time. That’s not illegal, Eliott. You’re allowed to enjoy your life.’
She sniffs and glances away, and I pretend like I don’t notice the tear sliding down her cheek. ‘Doesn’t feel that way sometimes.’
I pull her in close to me and we stay like that; Eliott’s head on my shoulder, my hand on her thigh, in a comfortable silence for the rest of the drive.
The second we crawl up beside Gloria’s house, Eliott is out of the door and up the pathway before the car even comes to a dead halt. I mutter a thanks to our driver and hurry after her. Her hands shake as she fumbles for her key,but just as she finally gets it in the lock and turns it, the door is flung open.
Gloria blinks up at the both of us, looking thoroughly unimpressed. Her clothes are soaked from the waist down and she has a mop in one hand and a thick roll of paper towels in the other.
‘It’s about time,’ she huffs, and that’s the only acknowledgment we get before she turns around and storms back into her home.
Eliott blinks silently at the space where her grandmother was just stood. ‘Nan?’ She darts into the house after Gloria. I hang back, not entirely sure if this is something I should be here for. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Do Ilookokay?’ comes Gloria’s irritated reply from the kitchen.
