Page 122 of Himbo Hitman
I swallow and nod at his phone, grasping at straws to find a sign that will point us in the right direction. “What does your horoscope say?”
Even though I know he would have started the day by checking it, he pulls his phone out and opens the app. Then he reads out loud. “Sudden work pressures are set to test you today,Taurus, but rest assured you’re up to the challenge. You have the strength and energy to meet this head-on and will overcome setbacks quickly, but use caution. Decisions have a ripple effect that will last long beyond today.”
Well, fuck. Up until that last line, it had sounded positive. “I’m so glad horoscopes are clear and decisive.”
“You asked.”
“I’m regretting it now.”
“Look, it says to be cautious. And being cautious means not sitting around here waiting for someone to come knocking.”
“Or maybe being cautious means not making random choices to up and leave.”
Lars turns his phone over in his hands. “Okay, we’ll stay. For now. Any sign of a car, we leave. And if Perry’s not back tomorrow morning …”
He doesn’t need to finish that. If he’s not back, he’s in trouble. And sitting around here won’t help anything.
***
The day goes for entirely too long. Lars spends time exploring again, and I spend time going out of my goddamn brain.
Somehow, I get myself into the shower and changed without having a breakdown. Considering it’s getting late, I probably should have left my clothes to get washed, but I’ve reached the point where I don’t think sleep is going to happen, and I’m not so sure we won’t be back on the run at a moment’s notice.
Eating makes me feel sicker, and there’s not a huge range anyway. Barely five minutes have passed before I give in to the need todosomething. Anything. Purpose helps me feel only slightly less anxious, and when I step outside to tidy up the yard, the illusion of productivity helps tug Perry from my mind.
Mostly.
That deep, unhinged rattling inside me won’t stop, and it’s taking all my energy to keep it trapped tight. Because Perry is fine.Colin is fine. There’s no point breaking down over something that hasn’t happened yet.
I send a quick mental plea to the universe as I stack firewood and throw metal tools into a pile. Chairs snap closed, and garbage is gathered, and I tugtug tugweeds from what’s supposed to be a flower bed until my frantic hands redden and ache and dirt fills the grooves under my fingernails. I’m barely registering any of it. Barely seeing what I’m seeing, just moving, moving, moving.
The faster I move, the more my anxiety rattles out of me and the more my hands shake. My throat gets so thick I can feel the pressure right down to my chest. I’m freezing cold. My muscles seize. Pressure builds behind my eyes. But still, I grab and throw and tear through the yard like it’s the only tether to my sanity. When the log I’m moving slips from my hold andthudsto the ground, frustration explodes from me, and I aim a solid kick at the wood.
The sudden pain that spikes through me breaks me out of it.
I’m panting, trembling so hard I feel sick.
I can’t hold it in anymore.
My hands feel full of splinters as I hunch over the log, eyes prickling, willing all this to end.
All I can smell out here is wet decay, which clogs up any shreds of hope I had left. Where the fuck is my brother? The way I miss him has carved out a cavern in my chest that only goes deeper by the day. And the more time that passes without contact from Perry, the more I worry that Colin won’t be the only one.
I can’t have a Perry-shaped hole too. There’s only so much I can deal with before I’m left empty.
And apparently, I’m shit at protecting even myself because I don’t notice Lars has joined me until he grabs my shoulder and pulls me to him. I fold into his chest, hating that I can’t handle all of this like a normal day. Just like he does. We might be best friends, but we can’t be more different.
“I want to tell you everything will be okay, but …”
“There’s a high chance it won’t be?” I guess.
“We’re not going to think about that right now.” His solid arms squeeze me tighter, and it’s not the most comfortable thing, hugging a wall of solid muscle, but it’s keeping me together. It’s not like being in Perry’s arms.
“Have you tried calling Perry?”
“I haven’t.” Because I know if I call him and I end up getting the same deadline as Colin, I’m not going to be able to keep my shit together. I’m not doing a great job of it in general, but I think I’ve reached the point of PTSD when it comes to unanswered phone calls.
“His phone is still off.”
