Page 186

“I was,” I say. “But she wasn’t here when I got back.”
Patton’s forehead creases, his smirk gone. “What, she left?”
“I meanshe left,Captain Oblivious. Left me a Dear Archer note saying she’d ruined my life enough, so she was taking herself out of it.” I sigh.
How is this happening to me?
Long ago, I told myself I was done with women and relationships. It was just Colt and me.
Now, he won’t even speak to me.
“Shit,” Patton says. “What did you do?”
“I don’t know,” I tell him, which is the truth. At least, partly. “I fucked up, of course. I know that. But where she’s gone or what her plan is now? No clue.”
“What about Colt? Doesn’t she talk to him?” Patton asks.
“He doesn’t know where she went, but even if he did, I don’t know if he’d tell me. I’m his favorite villain now.” I look down at the plate of food I’ve barely touched, not remotely hungry. Talking about this doesn’t feel useful like it’s supposed to. It just adds to the dead weight in my chest. “He’s pissed and I can’t blame him.”
“That’s because she was fucking good for you,” Dexter huffs.
“You’ve got no clue at all?” Patton presses. “No hint where she’d go if she’s mourning your dumbass?”
“I don’t know, Pat,” I snap. “She’s a runner. It’s part of her instinct. Hell, that’s how Imether. She wound up at Solitude after the wedding fell through with her bastard of a fiancé. For all I know, she could be back in Springfield. She must have a few friends there.”
Friends, yeah.
Plenty of folks she never wants to see again, too.
Aside from that? The world is a big fucking place and Winnie could be anywhere.
“What about her vehicle?” Dexter asks, opening his phone. “We can track down her plates, maybe. You know I’m in good with the cops.”
“Dex, no. She’s not a fucking missing person. She just decided she’s had enough of my bullshit,” I grumble. Dex has his police contacts, yes, but that’s too intrusive. “It’s not like there’s something wrong. It’s no crime to breakup and dash.”
“Youknow something’s wrong,” Patton says. “You’ve been glowering and scowling all evening. I know that’s like your signature move, but it’s worse than usual. Also, you always answer your emails except for the rare Colt emergency—or when you’re worried about her.”
Guilty.
Dexter’s face is unusually grim, even when he says nothing.
I don’t like it.
My brother must feel that same heavy shadow in his gut, the inexplicable sense that something’s off about this mess.
Or maybe he’s just picked up on my vibe.
That’s easy enough when he says, “We’ll find her, Arch.”
They stay all evening.
They’d never admit they’re there for moral support—and I wouldn’t let them—but deep down, having company that has my back makes me feel slightly less shitty.
It isn’t long before the crowd grows, too.
Junie shows up, and then Salem and little Arlo, who’s growing faster than Colt did at his age. Maybe it’s the weirdness of only finding out you have a new nephew after he’s older than a toddler.
Junie throws together a huge batch of that hybrid chicken parm with the stroganoff-like sauce for everyone. There’s no denying it goes down faster and easier than my pathetic fire pasta.