Page 105 of King of Pain

I step aside quickly, but my eyes dart past her, scanning outside, searching. She frowns slightly, catching my nervous energy. “Anthony?”

I shut the door, running a hand through my hair. “No. It wasn’t. I’m guessing you haven’t seen him or texted with him?”

Lexi’s smile fades immediately. “No, I haven’t. What’s going on, sweetie? You look like you’re going to pass out.”

I barely make it to the couch before my knees give out. Guinness nudges his nose against my leg, whining softly, like he knows something is wrong. I tense, my breath shuddering as the weight of everything crashes down, and suddenly, I’m sobbing.

Lexi moves instantly, sitting on the arm of the couch beside me, her hand on my back. “Oh my God, Anthony, what’s going on? Did he hurt you? I swear to God—”

“No, no,” I choke out, shaking my head furiously. “He didn’t. His... his mom died, Lex.”

Lexi gasps. “Oh my God, Anthony.”

I sniff hard, wiping my face with the sleeve of the dress shirt I’m still wearing from last night. “He got the call right after we got home from dinner. He wouldn’t talk to me, even after he stopped crying. He was completely catatonic. I held him right here by the couch until we fell asleep. But I woke up this morning and he’s not here. I’m worried.”

Lexi exhales, rubbing soothing circles on my back. “Have you texted him? Maybe he went to talk to family in private or to run it out on the treadmill. Do you know what happened to her?”

I shake my head. “Like I said, he didn’t say a word. I have no idea what happened, but I have a feeling something really awful happened. I was just about to text him when you came to the door.”

Lexi nods. “Okay, why don’t you call or text him first? I’ll take Little G out for a walk and stop at the apartment gym to see if he’s on the treadmill.”

“Okay, thanks, Lex.” I stand up, taking a deep breath.

She pulls me into a hug, squeezing me tight. “It’s going to be okay, honey. He’s probably just processing.”

I nod, even though I’m not sure I believe it. When she leaves, I take a deep breath and call Chance. The phone rings and rings several times before finally going to voicemail. I clench my jaw and fire off a text:Hey. Where are you? I’m worried about you. Call me, okay?

Ten minutes later, Lexi walks back in, looking just as concerned as I feel. “He’s not at the gym, but his bike is gone. Did you get ahold of him?”

“Fuck,” I mutter, raking a hand through my hair. “No, he didn’t answer when I called, and I sent a text. Doesn’t look like he’s read it.”

Lexi sighs. “Okay, let’s not panic. He’s probably just on a ride to clear his head. What do you need right now? What can I do?”

I slump onto the couch, rubbing my hands over my face. “There’s nothing either of us can do right now. I’m just going to keep trying to call and text him, I guess.”

Lexi sits next to me, her shoulder bumping mine. “Well, then I’ll be right here next to you until we hear from him, okay?”

I nod, exhaling shakily, and try to call him again.

Four hours pass.

Four hours, and still nothing.

I’ve called at least twenty times. I’ve fired off so many texts, ranging fromWhere are you?toWhy aren’t you reading your texts?I know you’re hurting, please come home.

And the last one:Baby, please. I’m so worried about you. Please tell me you’re okay. Let me bear some of this burden for you.

Unread.

I pace the living room, hands clenched, and I’m spiraling through every worst-case scenario. Lexi’s on the couch, Little G curled up next to her, her eyes tracking me as I move. Finally, she exhales softly, but her voice lacks any real conviction when she says, “I’m sure he’s okay, Anthony. He just needs time.”

I spin on her, my voice sharp. “You don’t know that. It’s been four hours, Lex! He’s not even reading his messages. What if he was crying so hard he crashed his bike? What if he—”

Lexi points a stern finger at me, her eyes glassy but fierce. “Don’t even think it. He’s fine. He has to be.”

I force out a shaky breath and drop onto the couch, burying my face in my hands. But the weight in my chest keeps pressing, keeps clawing at me. I can’t sit still. I can’t just wait.

Then it’s four more hours.