Then spend a minute dabbing at the bit of mascara smudged in the corner of my eye.
I pull my phone out of my handbag again to text Ward.
Seven missed calls?
Four from Maddie.
The other three are from the same unknown number. My blood turns to ice. Spots cover my vision, and I blink to clear them away, but the worry is still there.
Something is wrong. I can feel it in my soul. Panic floods my veins and I grapple for the doorknob.
Which way is the exit?
My legs wobble, but I pick up speed, not completely sure where I’m going. I have to get to Crew.
My fingers fumble with my phone until I manage to click on Maddie’s name. “Come on, Maddie, answer.” The line rings, and each unanswered ring brings a new sense of dread.
Answer!
My heel snags on the rug in the hallway, and I grimace when my ankle twists. I’m ten blocks from my apartment. My shoes are only slowing me down. I kick off my heels at the base of the stairs outside the building while I call her again.
“Lyndi!” she calls through the phone.
My heart beats out of my chest, and the world threatens to collapse beneath my feet. “What’s wrong? Is Crew okay?”
“He’s fine. I’m sorry. I probably freaked you out. We couldn’t find his new Spider-Man toy, and he refused to go to bed without it.”
I grip the stairwell banister and my legs all but give out. Crew is safe. Everything is okay. I take a full breath and close my eyes.
“Did you find it?” I ask, the urgency gone from my voice.
“Yes, finally. I was getting him down when you called the first time. Now don’t worry about us. Go back to your ball, princess.”
“Okay.” I nod with my eyes still closed and force my lungs to fully inflate.
Breathe.My baby is alright.
She hangs up. I tuck my phone back into my handbag and forgo putting on my shoes, opting to pick them up instead.
Hopefully, they haven’t gotten to Ward yet. He would be so upset if I missed buying him. He’s probably stressing out right now.
“Going somewhere?”
The voice hits me like a freight train, knocking the air from my lungs and stalling my heart. I can’t forget that voice.
My head rises in slow motion, and I beg my eyes to bring me a different vision than the one I’ve conjured in my head.
It doesn’t.
It’s him.
Rodney.
Thirty Eight
Ward
Me:Where are you?
