Page 49 of Call the Shots (For The Arena #1)
BEAR
SEARCH AND RESCUE MISSION
The car was full of voices. Fridge, Nick, Montoya, and I dialed bars and shouted out names, confirming June wasn’t at that one, that one, or that one.
I floored the accelerator, weaving through the winding road to Austin.
A truck slammed on the brakes trying to take a turn and honked, I didn’t give a shit.
“Mom picked up!” Montoya yelled. He talked urgently into the phone with Cleo and caught my eye in the rearview mirror. “June’s in her hotel room?—”
“No, she’s not! ” I argued, frustrated we were even having this conversation.
The car roared underneath me as I swerved to the left, narrowly missing another car.
“I know she’s out there! Tell Cleo the police said they’d call us back in thirty minutes—which is fucking bullshit— ” I slammed my fist against the steering wheel. “This is all my fault!”
“I got June!” Nick cut in. “Hold on—she’s not there anymore?—”
My heart thudded in a painful sensation. “ Where is she?! ”
“The bar paid for her taxi, they sent her to her hotel?—”
I rattled the hotel name from memory. I’d never been so grateful to stalk her socials before. We were closer than I thought and towering hotels met us, looming like a maze, hiding her from me.
I hit the brakes. “There it is!”
My car hit the curb, jolting everyone inside but I was three steps ahead of them, shoving the door open before I turned off the engine. I needed to confirm she was okay before I left Austin. They’d have to handcuff me to get rid of me.
Pebbled trails led to the spa, the coffee shop, and the pool, which was hidden by leafy palms and a metal gate, painted bright blue.
I stared through the bars to see the only person out this late.
Her small frame was bent over an inflatable bodyboard, her blonde hair was wet and slick down her back.
Her shimmery, silver dress glistened like the water.
“June?” I croaked, moving unconsciously towards the pool.
“Did you find her?” Fridge called, jogging up with the guys to meet me.
I didn’t respond, I was too busy inspecting the gate. It needed a room key to open, and I didn’t have one. I shouted for her, but June moved too slow, head lolling backwards, drunk and confused.
“How do we get in?” Nick asked.
I reached for the bars crisscrossed at the top of the gate and hauled myself up, sneakers scrambling on the smooth metal.
“Oh, shit!” Nick blurted out.
“Woah, woah— Bear! ” Montoya tried to grab me, but I pulled myself over the fence, which was a hell of a lot harder than the pull-up bar at the gym.
There was a table on the other side, all I needed to do was land on it.
The second my feet made contact, my stomach lurched with my mistake, and I crashed to the gritty tile.
Fuck, that hurt—but I shoved myself up, racing to her.
June was in the middle of the pool, barely out of reach. I got down to my knees. “Grab my hand?—”
“Bear?” she slurred. Her face twisted. “I’m sorry…I—I thought the phone call…”
I leaned even closer, so fucking close but so fucking far away. “Baby, grab my hand.”
“Thought it wasn’t real…”
Oh, fuck it.
I pulled my shirt over my head and tossed aside my sneakers. The water was a shock to my system, and I sucked in hard breaths, wading through to her. It was summer in Texas, but it was fucking freezing. I yanked her to me, crushing her into a hug.
June was so cold. Just as cold as the water.
“I’m sorry…” she mumbled.
“It’s okay.” My hands shook and I tightened my grip, cocooning her body to mine. “It’s okay.”
I didn’t know if I was talking to me or her, but I kept whispering those two words as I stepped out of the pool, carrying a limp June, more of a ragdoll than a person.
Jeez, she was drunk. I set her on a pool chair and returned with towels, carefully drying her off while her bloodshot eyes kept rolling back.
She said something else, but I couldn’t understand her.
“Shh, it’s okay,” I whispered.
I needed to get her stuff from around the pool. Her purse, phone, a box of zero-calorie mints, her room key, and a small envelope were scattered. I threw my clothes on, picking up everything. The little envelope had her room number written on it. We could grab her stuff before we left.
June stretched out her arms to me and I knelt down to pick her up. She stopped mumbling, burying her face in the crook of my neck as I pressed her just as close.
The guys were silent when I pushed the gate open.
“Nick, stay with the car.” I nodded towards it, halfway up on the sidewalk—the shittiest parking job. “Fridge, call Cleo, tell her we found her. Montoya you’re coming with me, we need to get June’s stuff.”
“What am I supposed to get, Bear?” Montoya asked on our way to the elevator.
“Grab everything,” I told him, rubbing June’s back. “I’ll put you in pajamas, baby. It’s going to be okay.”
Her room was as immaculate as she kept our dorm.
It wasn’t hard to dig in the dresser to find some of her favorite pajama pants.
None of her tops would cut it though. She was too cold, and wasn’t hypothermia deadly?
I couldn’t let her freeze. I searched through her suitcase for my hoodie and came back to June, who was trying to pull her dress off.
She blinked slowly, eyes on me. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen someone so drunk.
“Hey, killer,” I whispered, fighting to keep my voice calm.
Gently, I slipped the dress off her and it thumped to the ground, drenched.
As quick as I could, I dried her off before pulling the hoodie over her head and tying her pajama pants at the waist. “I’m going to bring you home to all your leafy children. You'll sleep this off.”
Montoya’s phone rang and I could feel his eyes on me. “Uh, Bear? Fridge says we have a problem.”
“I know we’re doing a search and rescue, but I’m too drunk,” Fridge admitted over speaker. “I don’t think I explained this well to Cleo, she’s freaking out.”
“What’d you tell her?” I demanded.
“I told her we’re drunk—I didn’t mean to say you’re drunk—oh, fuck.” He heaved a sigh. “She said we’re not allowed to leave Austin—Bear! Are you listening to me?”
I wasn’t. June had closed her eyes, and she hadn’t opened them yet. I leaned over her. “June?”
Nothing.
I grabbed her shoulder and shook her. “June? Baby—wake up!”
“We can’t stay in Austin overnight,” Fridge continued. “Cleo says she’s fifteen minutes away, let’s meet up with her, drop off June, we’ll leave for Houston?—”
I picked June up and made my way to the door. “Montoya, now!”
“But—”
“ NOW! ” I grabbed the phone from him, heading for the stairs. “Fridge, put Cleo on the line.”
It was quiet for a moment before Cleo’s voice cracked over the phone. “Bear Moreau. What were you thinking?! Driving drunk—I could throttle you for this. I’m staying in a house with Miles, you’re?—”
“We’re not taking June to Houston,” I told her. “I need you to meet me—hold on, I have to pull up the address?—”
“I know the hotel?—”
“Not the hotel?—”
“What? Where are you going?”