Page 23 of A Wrench in the Plan
“Can’t find him,” he said flatly, but I could see the concern and worry twisting up the features of his face.
“He’s been kind of standoffish the last two days—”
“Yeah, I noticed,” he quickly said, irritation in his tone. “Sorry.” This time his tone was softer, and he aimed his sympathetic expression my way.
“—and I asked Cat to check on him last night.”
“Cat?”
“Yeah,” I quickly affirmed.
“When?”
“Uhhh…” I said, pulling out my phone to check the time I sent her the message. “I text her a little after seven, and she told me she was headed to the compound around eight with her parents. Something about her mom and her needing to do some meal prep or something for tonight’s dinner. She was going to talk to him after she helped with that.”
He pulled out his phone, tapping the screen a few times before putting it up to his ear.
“Hey, you heard from Cat today?” he asked. I assumed he was calling her dad, B-ry. “No?” His gaze jerked to mine as he asked the confirming question. My gut dropped. “Has Laurel?” There was a shake of his head as he relayed the answer to me a few beats later.
Before I could even think, I was calling Cat. It rang and rang and rang, ending in voicemail. I hung up and tried again, only to get the same result. That wasn’t like her. She didn’t have class this morning, so she should have answered.
“She didn’t go home with Laurel?” I heard him ask as I finally gave up on calling Cat. “I can’t find Wrench too.”
I could see the hope dying in his eyes.
“Yeah. See you in a few. I’ll find LT.” Sidekick dropped the call but didn’t move.
It appeared as if he knew what to do just as much as I did. Neither of us had a clue. We’d never had to prepare for something like this.
“We gotta go get Prez,” he said, snapping us both out of our frozen moment.
He took off with me hot on his heels. We didn’t bother with bikes, choosing to run the distance to the compound.
“You checked his room?” I asked dumbly. Maybe they were in there and we were panicking for nothing.
“Yeah,” he shot over his shoulder, sounding downright annoyed that I’d even asked. “His bike wasn’t here, and when I tried to call him, I got no answer. So I checked just to make sure he hadn’t forgotten his phone. Figured he’d come up here early or gone to get breakfast or something.”
But he wasn’t here, and the sinking feeling in my gut said he hadn’t gone for breakfast either.
Were they missing? Had they run off somewhere? Spent the night somewhere other than here and just hadn’t gotten up with anyone?
Was it worse?
Could they be hurt? Kidnapped?
“What the fuck?!” Twigs said as we collided with him in the doorway to the clubhouse. Coffee splashed all over the three of us, and though I knew it was hot, I didn’t feel its burning sting when it hit the exposed skin of my arm. “The fuck is the fire?”
Given what had just happened with the bar, I was thinking we should scratch that saying for a while. But there were more important things than pointing that out right now.
“Where is Prez?” Sidekick growled.
“In the kitchen eating breakfast.” Twigs’ eyes were wide as he took in how wild Sidekick looked.
And he did look wild. Like a man on the hunt, ready to tear off limbs and paint the walls with blood.
We pushed past Twigs. I sent him the briefest look of apology. He’d get it soon enough.
“Prez,” Sidekick said once we stepped into the kitchen. This was followed by a chin jerk, one that LT reacted to right away.
