Page 31 of Fourth Wheel

I call him again, because maybe he just didn’t get to his phone in time.

I wait.

Fielding groans.

Panic bubbles up inside me as the call goes to voicemail again.

Think, Maddie. Think!

Dempsey hasn’t answered any of my calls or texts over the last few days. He’s ignoring me.

“Field—I’m gonna look through your pockets and find your phone, ’kay?” I experience a surge of déjà vu the moment I feel his device in his back left pocket—right where his brother keeps his.

I pull out the phone and swipe up, then scowl when the facial recognition doesn’t unlock.

Shit.

“Fielding. Can you hear me? Listen, I need you to open your eyes for me.”

I crawl toward his head, gently lifting his skull and laying it in my lap. “Field, come on. Open your eyes for one second…”

I position the device in front of his face and swipe up again. The phone vibrates its rejection. I try one more time. That one fails, too, because of course it does. Not only are his eyes closed, but one is completely swollen shut. I’m not sure facial recognition would work even if he could cooperate.

The phone stops trying to open with Face ID and asks me for a passcode instead.

Four numbers. Six attempts. There’s no way this’ll work, but I punch in Dempsey’s passcode just to rule it out.

Shit. Yes! These goofballs.Why would they have matching lock codes?

I brush Fielding’s hair out of his eyes and keep his head on my lap as I use the other hand to scroll through his contacts.

When I get to where “Dempsey” should be, there’s nothing. I switch over to his recent calls instead.

Random names and numbers are listed, but about halfway down, there’s one that says “Dumpy.” I click it rather than waste time comparing it to what I have in my phone.

It only rings once.

“Hello?”

Tears of relief flood my eyes, but I hastily blink them away. We’re not out of the woods yet.

“Dempsey, it’s Maddie Wheeler. Please don’t hang up on me,” I rush to get out.

“Maddie? What the hell? The caller ID said my brother was calling…” He trails off, checking the display on his phone, I’m sure.

“You’ve got some nerve—” he starts, but I cut him off before I lose him completely.

“Dempsey, listen to me. I’m with Fielding. We’re at a party. There were these guys, and they said he snorted something—” A sob rips through my chest unbidden.

If those guys come back… if Andrew finds me out here alone with no one but the unconscious dude in my lap… Fuck. I have to make Dempsey understand.

“Fielding’s hurt. They hurt him. I stopped them, but I don’t know—”

“Where are you?” he demands. There’s rustling in the background, followed by the faint rumbling of an engine.

“Haymarket Street. The house is on Haymarket. There’s a ton of cars… you can’t miss it. We’re out by the barn, but I need to get him out of here. If they come back…”

“I’m already in my car. GPS has fourteen minutes, though. Where are you right now?”