Page 33 of Save Me
Sinking into the plush couch, eyes closed, the weight of the day presses down on my chest. It’s not even midnight, so this fucking day hasn’t ended yet. It started too early and dragged on, even with sleep.
Cal’s hand finds my shoulder, a silent offer of companionship. Thayer sits across from us on the coffee table, elbows on his knees. Quen sits at my other side, arms crossed, while Harry gets us all some drinks.
“Her phone has been disconnected,” I blurt out suddenly, breaking the silence. My voice sounds hollow, even to my own ears. “She would’ve made sure to let me know she was okay. I know she would’ve.”
Harry places the drinks on the table, and the room goes quiet. I can feel all their eyes on me, but it’s not suffocating. It’s like they’re propping me up, keeping me from falling apart.
“Who?” Quen asks, turning to me and uncrossing his arms, knowing it makes him look defensive and that I don’t need that right now.
“My mum.”
“When was the last time you talked?” Cal asks, his voice low and controlled.
“The day I arrived here. Shit happened so fast with you guys, and then with my dad appearing on the scene, being abducted, days slipped by. But I tried to ring her the other day, but it was disconnected. I meant to check in on her earlier. After Leonard.”
“Leonard,” Thayer growls, but not accusingly, just pissed off in general.
Ignoring him, I rub my forehead, trying to squeeze out the worry that’s lodged there like a splinter.
“Could be a billing mix-up,” Quen suggests.
“Not a mix-up. This has happened before when she was too broke to pay it. But I was with her then. She had no need to track me down. I just thought she would’ve now with me so far away.”
Something feels very off, and it’s eating away at me.
“Let’s drive back to Westfield,” Cal says slowly, almost as if it is something he hopes we all refuse. “Check on your mum in person.”
The worry eases inside me at the thought, a bit of the tightness unwinding in my chest. I nod, because what else can I do? Sitting here, drowning in what-ifs, isn’t going to help.
“Road trip it is,” Harry says.
“It’s a bit late,” I murmur, even though every instinct is telling me to go now.
Quen gives me a look, his eyes steady. “We’ll set off at dawn. We’ve got you, Vogue.” It’s not a promise; it’s a fact, and somehow, that steadies me more than any vow could.
Thayer doesn’t say anything, but his hand on my knee is a silent pledge, his strength lending itself to me without words.
“Try to get some sleep now,” Cal murmurs, kissing my temple.
I nod and glance at Quen. “Will you come with me?”
“Of course,” he says, instantly on his feet and taking my hand as I rise.
We walk silently to my room, where I don’t even bother stripping off. I take my boots off and crawl onto the bed. Sleep won’t come easy, but I’m okay with that. I want to just be with Quen. We have something special, and I want to nurture it before it fades away.
Quen slips off his shoes and climbs onto the bed beside me, not touching at first, just a presence that fills the room with warmth and protection.
I roll onto my side, facing him, and he copies me. The silence isn’t awkward; it’s comforting. We understand each other on a level that words sometimes can’t reach.
“You okay?”
It’s a stupid question because I’m clearly not, but Quen asks it anyway because that’s what you do when you care about someone.
“No,” I admit. My voice barely rises above a whisper. “I’m scared shitless.”
His hand finds mine, intertwining our fingers with a gentle squeeze. “We’re going to find out what happened. I promise.”
I close my eyes for a moment. It’s not like I needed reassurance from Quen to know that he means every word he says, but hearing it settles something deep within me.
