Page 78 of Him Too

I’d been calling him for days without an answer.

I called him. No answer.

Again. No answer.

Again.

Again.

Now I was pacing his living room, gripping my phone so tight my fingers hurt, my heart pounding with each ignored call.

I called again. Straight to voicemail.

“Ciarán, please call me back.Please.”

Where the fuck was he?

He’d had a seizure lying beside me in bed less than three days ago. I’d spent hours at the hospital, fighting for scraps of information. And now this?

I ended the call and threw my phone onto the couch, my hands shaking. The anger, the helplessness, the fucking worry—it was eating me alive.

Oak walked in, looking too damn calm. Like he hadn’t just seen my world unravel on television.

I turned on him. “You don’t care, do you?”

He raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“You don’t give a shit about him, about any of this! You don’t even like him! So this is easy for you!”

Oak sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “Jordin, what the fuck do you want me to do? Magically fix him? Drag him back here?”

“I want you tocare!” My voice cracked. “I want you to—” I stopped myself, breathing hard. I didn’t even know what I was asking for. I was just angry, looking for a target.

Oak stared at me for a long moment before shaking his head. “That’s not fair.”

I exhaled, long and shaky, and dragged my hands down my face. “I know.”

I knew I was wrong. I knew I was being unfair, taking my fears out on him, but I didn’t have anyone else.

You cheated, and he left.

I didn’t know if I meant Oak or Ciarán. Maybe both.

“I’m sorry.” I tried to sound calmer. “I didn’t mean that.”

Oak shrugged like it didn’t matter, but I saw the tension in his shoulders. “Whatever,” he muttered.

I needed a drink.

I walked into the kitchen, grabbed a glass, and poured a shot of whiskey. Slammed it back. Poured another. My stomachburned, but I didn’t stop. I reached for the bottle again, but Oak was there, his hand closing over mine.

“That’s enough.”

I yanked my hand away. “You ain’t my fucking daddy, Oak.”

He sighed. “So you’re going to drink yourself into liver damage?” His eyes locked on mine.

I let out a bitter laugh. “You wanted him gone, didn’t you? You wanted me all to yourself. Now you got me.” I was challenging him instead of sticking to the subject. I was driving myself crazy.