Page 99 of A Cold Hard Truth

Not home.

He knew Sebastian enough to know Mallardsville wasn’t his home. Just like Chicago wasn’t Remington’s home. At least, not anymore.

Remington struggled through the workday, finally giving up after lunch and turning his phone off to stop himself from checking it incessantly. He worked long past his scheduled end time, waiting until he’d returned to his half-empty and nearly cavernous apartment to turn his phone back on.

He’d be lying if he said part of him hadn’t been hoping for his phone to blow up with a barrage of messages from Sebastian, desperate for his guidance, his attentions, for him. Remington cursed himself under his breath when he powered the phone back on, wishing he’d spent time reading a genre besides romance during his pre-teen years. The soft and supple pictures on the covers had given him unrealistic expectations of what love could be like or should be like. And while he knew it was possible to love someone without embarrassing yourself over it, part of him wanted that.

Remington believed love should be an all-consuming affair. Not only would he be a better person for loving another, that person would be better for loving him as well. And they would know it. He would want and he would take, but it would be a welcome thing.

So when he turned on his phone and found a message from Jace and silence from Sebastian, he couldn’t deny that it felt like a spear through his chest. He read the message from Jace and decided to call his best friend instead of texting.

“Where have you been?” Jace answered, almost immediately and sounding very nearly panicked.

“Working.”

“It’s almost eight.”

“Working late,” he said. “And you texted me once. You were hardly worried about me, Jace.”

“I knew texting you over and over wouldn’t do anything if you weren’t answering the one,” he said, and Remington could picture him rolling his eyes.

“Well, here I am.”

“Have you spoken with Sebastian?” Jace asked.

“No.”

“What?” Jace balked. “No?”

“No,” he repeated.

“Oh.” Jace went quiet.

“Why? Is he okay?”

“Uhm...” Jace’s voice wavered. “Debatable. But if he hasn’t called you…”

“Is he okay?” Remington asked again, sitting straight up.

“I don’t know what’s going on up there,” Jace said. “I only know what I can force out of Callahan. They’ve talked every day, but Callahan is keeping a pretty tight lid on it. Which is also not like him.”

Remington could hear the displeasure in Jace’s voice with that last statement. It was clear whatever was going on with Sebastian was serious. He tried to not linger on the fact that Sebastian had spoken with Callahan four times to his zero, but he reminded himself Callahan was Sebastian’s best friend. To Sebastian, Remington was…he didn’t even know because they’d never said.

“Can you tell me what you do know?” he asked, forcing himself to settle in against the couch again.

“There’s something going on with his wife.”

“Ex-wife,” Remington corrected.

“Ex.”

“What about her?” he asked.

“I’m not sure.” Jace lowered his voice. “She’s a bit of a piece of work. He doesn’t like to talk about her and Callahan respects that. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was trying to get more money out of him.”

“He’d pay it,” Remington said casually. “You know he doesn’t care about money.”

“I know, but his brother…”