Page 41 of Shielding His Heart
I glance up sharply. “You’re shitting me,” I say, dumbstruck.
“No less than five people stopped me on the way here from the front yard to tell me.”
“She here to see her mom?” I let the question hang off. From the stiff set of his shoulders, I deduce Lettie Samuels didn’t return to Battleboro for a friendly visit.
Remy’s frown deepens. “She’s moving back. Been here a couple weeks. I guess making it big on Broadway didn’t work out for her.”
In a town like Battleboro, Colette Samuels, former Miss Florida returning with her tail between her legs, may have been front-page news. The fact that she and Remy got along like oil and water explains why Remy looks like he swallowed a porcupine.
“That’s crazy,” I say as I plate up the rest of the hamburgers. Tana comes to take them from me and gives me a heated look over the trays.
“It is what it is,” Remy says and lifts a shoulder. “As long as she sticks to her side of town and me to mine, we won’t have a problem.”
I seriously doubted that. Years ago, Remy’s dad married Lettie’s mother. Lettie and Remy fought more often than not, and it was a coin toss as to who was the bigger bully. Remy may be the size of a tanker and intimidating, but Lettie is half Italian and hot-headed to boot. They spent part of the time living together in vicious confrontations and the rest trying not to tear each other’s clothes off. During Lettie’s senior year of high school, everything came to a head when their house caught fire. Lettie made it out. Remy’s dad didn’t.
Things between them were never the same, and Remy never forgave her.
“I’m sure she’s changed.”
“It doesn’t fucking matter. She'll steer clear of me if she knows what’s good for her.”
“Excuse me,” Tana says, worry knitting her brow. “Have you seen Paisley anywhere? I can’t find her, and it’s time to eat. Can you help me look?”
Remy nods to me. “You go. I’ll clean up around here.”
“Thanks.” To Tana, I say, “She has to be around here somewhere. There’s no way that girl would miss out on food.”
“Of course,” Tana answers, but her frown is pronounced, and there’s sweat on her brow. The first ribbons of unease tangle in my stomach.
We look in the bounce house first but only find Gemma and a couple of their friends. With a quick word to my mom to keep an eye on Gemma, we go through the house room by room, calling Paisley’s name. But she’s not in any of them.
“When’s the last time you saw her?” I ask Tana when we’ve exhausted all the rooms in the house. I shove a hand through my hair and spin in a tight circle. There’s no one around but a couple parents sneaking foul-smelling cigarettes in the front yard. The excited shrieks from the children in the backyard sound light-years away, and the blistering summer sun bakes my skin, making me feel itchy and tight all over.
“I swear she was just here. I thought she went inside to go to the bathroom.” Tana’s voice is frantic, and she twists her hands together. She’s trying to stay calm and composed, but her mouth quivers.
“She has to be here somewhere,” I say, more to reassure myself. “Let’s split up. She can’t have gone far.”
Several other parents have noticed the unease in the air. I hear a couple of them dividing up, some to stay with the kids and distribute hot dogs and hamburgers to keep them distracted, and the others peel off in cars to cruise the nearby streets. I see Jax, Walker, Zeke, and Remy take to the sidewalk to go door to door, but I can’t make myself move for fear that she’ll come back and I won’t be here when she does.
Please be okay.
The thought of losing someone else. . . it’s unfathomable. I only just got Tana back. Losing one of my girls. . . I can’t even contemplate it.
“Daddy?” comes Gemma’s voice. “Daddy, what’s wrong? Where’s Paisley?”
I turn to find Gemma in her Little Mermaid swimsuit, red faced and sweaty from the sun. She’s holding a juice in one hand and a balloon on a string in another. I choke back a sob and get on my knees in front of her. “She’ll be right back. Why don’t you go and get some cake while we wait?”
Gemma, who normally won’t turn down a dessert, frowns at me. “But we didn’t sing Happy Birthday to her.”
“It’s okay. She won’t mind if you have some.”
“No, I’m not having cake without Paisley.” A tired whine colors her voice. “Tell her to hurry up.”
“Okay, baby, okay. Go to the backyard and wait for her. I’ll tell her to hurry up.” She hesitates for a moment and then does what I say.
My head droops, and I order myself to pull it together. Shoving to my feet, I grit my teeth and try to think. Paisley may be stubborn and emotional, but she would never wander off, especially not during her birthday. Not without good reason after what happened to Tana. There has to be something I’m missing.
It’s then I hear her raised voice. My heart clenches in relief, but she isn’t shouting with joy. She’s screaming.
