Chapter Twenty-Two
Feeling frantic and dizzy with worry, Erin dialed and redialed Blake’s cell phone. He wasn’t picking up at home either, but she took a chance that he’d fallen asleep quickly. The cab fare was thirty dollars just to get from her apartment to his empty, dark house. Damn. The Faculty Ball had ended at eleven and it was already midnight, so where was he? She had a flash of panic. What if he were hurt? What if he’d had something to drink and he’d been driving and… no. Calm down. That was the kind of thing that happened in movies, like in An Affair to Remember. Blake was fine. If he did drink, he was probably waiting somewhere until he sobered up enough to drive.
His office, she realized. He might even be there to finish up paperwork or clear out his books. It was the type of thing he might do, avoiding socializing under the pretense of some work task. Especially if things had gone poorly. Damn, now she was worried about that too. Her worry was strung up tight like the string of a bow, pulled back and ready to fire. If only she had a damn target.
She returned to the waiting cab and shut the door. “Campus, please.”
“You got it.”
The fare ticked higher as they retraced their steps back toward the university. She’d check the office. He had to be there. Because if he wasn’t, she had no idea where he could be, and she had no other plan.
“Any chance you guys go out of town?” she asked the cab driver.
“Sure. Where you headed?” When she told him the name of her hometown, he plugged it into his GPS. “That’d be a flat rate trip. Looks like $450 to get you there.”
She almost groaned. Four hundred dollars? Her bank account had that much—but barely. She’d wipe it clean and have nothing left to fix her car with when she got back.
When they arrived at the campus checkpoint, she hurriedly paid him, hesitantly adding a tip from her meager stash. If she ended up taking the bus, that would deplete her cash reserves entirely, and it would be tomorrow by the time she arrived. The cab drove away, leaving her in a cloud of smog. She didn’t have a ride to the bus station now either. She was running out of options.
The buildings appeared deserted as she walked quickly by. Moonlight bounced off the pale stone surfaces. She had been here a few times at night for study groups, but now, after the summer semester had ended, no one lingered. She had no idea where on campus the Faculty Ball was being held, but that was probably for the best. Even desperate, she knew better than to crash a party and potentially expose their relationship.
The wide metal doors she normally used to get inside that building were locked. She circled around and found a side door open. Pushing it open, she blinked into the darkness. It didn’t take long to figure out that his office was also dark, and empty. He wasn’t here. It had been a thin hope anyway.
Feeling a knot of fear for her mother, she wandered outside and sat down on a bench. The grounds were picturesque on the historical campus. Gorgeous lawns and famous statues. She didn’t see any of it. Ancient oak trees and architectural features blurred in front of her.
This was her nightmare. Knowing her mother needed her and being unable to get there. Three hundred miles felt a continent away. And even once she arrived, she wouldn’t be able to do anything useful. She wouldn’t be able to fix her mom’s heart. She wouldn’t be able to pay the medical bills. Useless.
Helpless.
A trill of laughter from around the corner caught her attention. Then a male voice answered. Damn, she recognized that voice. Wiping her eyes, she sat up straighter. Please, let him walk past. Tonight luck had abandoned her completely. Her old boyfriend Doug wandered nearer, half dragging an unsteady girl. Other voices bounced off the walls farther away, and she knew they were his friends. Doug always preferred to travel with a group, even when he was with his girlfriend—which had been her, once upon a time.
“Erin? Is that you?”
Damn. She tried to keep her voice from wavering. “Hey. What’s up?”
“What’s up is I’m happy to see you. Goddamn, Erin Raider.” He sounded genuinely happy to see her, and not even drunk. She wondered if he had drawn the designated driver short stick. He turned to the girl on his arm. “Go join the others. I’ll catch up in a minute.” She wandered in the direction of the voices, her stilettos sticking in the lawn.
Knowledge pierced Erin’s worried haze. “Wait, what are you doing here?” she asked Doug. “Don’t tell me you came back for grad school?”
He snorted. “Nah. It’s one of my friend’s brother’s birthday so we hit the bars nearby. I’m just along to keep the little kiddos from hurting themselves.”
From somewhere, she found the levity to tease him. “You’re the chaperone? What is this world coming to?”
“That’s what I said, but according to them, I’ve lost my edge. I’m all responsible and grown up and boring now.”
“Welcome to the club,” she said dryly.
He sat down on the same bench, reclining on the opposite corner. “So are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
He gave her a look of reprimand. “We dated for a year and a half. Which, for me, was practically a lifelong commitment. I think I can still tell when you’re upset.”
Strangely enough, she could read his emotions easily as well. His hair was shorter now, almost a buzz cut instead of the floppy hair she’d loved to run her fingers through. He seemed taller somehow, though it didn’t seem possible he would have grown. His posture was relaxed but expectant. She read his body language, his face, even without having seen him for years. Familiarity was a strange thing, muted with time but never turned off.
“My mom had a heart attack,” she admitted. “I was trying to get back there tonight, but my car broke down and then…” She didn’t really want to get into the specifics of her roommate being out of town and her secret boyfriend being a professor here. She shook her head. “It just isn’t working out. I guess I’ll have to stay. Maybe I can get a mechanic to repair my car in the morning.”
“On a Sunday morning? Not likely. Let me drive you back.”
She stared at him. “Back home, I mean. The four hour drive.”
“I know what you meant. I’ll take you there.”
“I can’t put you out that way.”
He looked away. “I owe you that ride anyway, even if it’s in the opposite direction. I’ve always felt bad for ditching you.”
She opened her mouth to reassure him. No, it’s okay. I understood. But she didn’t. She hadn’t understood how she could have meant so little to him because of what their parents had or hadn’t done. Because of something outside of her control.
Sighing, she said, “It was a long time ago.”
“It’s never too late to repay a debt. Let me drive you there.”
Temptation tugged at her. In a manner of speaking, he did owe her this, so she wasn’t just inconveniencing a stranger. And she really wanted to get home. Was her mother awake now? Was she afraid or in pain? Erin could only hope that the hospital care she received was expert, but what if her mother needed someone to advocate for her? Erin needed to be there, and she had no other way to go. No one else to take her. She glanced at her phone. Still no return call from Blake.
Would he be pissed about Doug taking her? Would he suspect that she’d been cheating on him? No, she couldn’t believe that. He’d understand when he found out that her mother was ill, when he heard that her car had broken down. When he saw the twelve missed calls from her. He had to understand. She’d make him understand.
“Okay,” she said on a resigned breath. “I appreciate it. And if you want, I can drive there, so you can sleep on the way.” She offered this even knowing he would refuse.
And he did. “Did I ever, in all the time you knew me, let another person drive my car?”
A reluctant smile touched her lips. “It’s late. You must be tired.”
“Never that tired. Not even for you, Erin.”
“You always loved your car,” she said with a touch of fondness.
“Even more now,” he promised. “This one I paid for myself.”
It took almost an hour for Doug to shepherd his friends back to their place and retrieve his car from a parking lot near the clubs. She watched her phone, hoping Blake would see her missed calls. She had begun to worry about him as well, but she had to trust he was safe. She also had to trust that he wasn’t just ignoring her or off with Melinda. Old worries couldn’t touch her now. Faced with failing her mother, with losing her, she had no energy for baseless fears. Blake was kind and loyal, and she wouldn’t doubt him. She only wished that he were here.
As Doug pulled to the curb in a sleek new Audi, she dialed Blake’s number one last time. This time it didn’t even ring, going straight to voicemail.
“It’s me. I got a ride back, with Doug.” She wasn’t sure how to describe him, and she certainly didn’t want to say that guy I told you about who broke my heart. “Don’t worry. Everything will be fine. I’ll see you when I get back.”
As she stepped into the low floor of the car, she realized the assurances were more for herself than him. Everything would be fine, with her mother, and with him. With herself.
“You okay?” Doug asked, concerned.
She forced a smile. “I will be.”
* * *
“Fifteen in the corner.” The familiar thud and reverberation of his stick told him he’d shot true. The striped orange ball tipped over the lip of green felt and tumbled in.
His opponent was George Evans, professor of Greek Archaeology. Evans shook his head. “Goddamn. Are you hustling me, Morris?”
Blake snorted. “I wish.”
Though his game had definitely improved. The first shot had been embarrassing. The cue had ricocheted around the table, somehow managing to miss every single goddamn ball.
His eye had escaped the blast unscathed, but his depth perception had still been affected. Something about the way the skin formed around it, or rather didn’t form, made a subtle difference.
This was his first time playing pool since the explosion, his first time being around people in a social setting. These men, privately, were kinder than the ones who’d questioned him at the party. They made no comment on his ineptitude and still included him. Slowly, he learned to compensate for the change. Even when he suspected the others were tired, he’d wanted to continue playing. To keep improving. To finally learn to deal with his injuries instead of avoiding them.
He circled the table and nodded to the side pocket to signal. Bending at the waist, he lined it up. There was his usual aim, the straight line between his stick, the cue, and the glinting side of the black eight ball. But that was wrong. If he made this shot, the cue would skate past the eight ball entirely and probably end up in the corner pocket, costing him the game.
He tilted the stick a few degrees. He preferred to change his aim rather than angle his head, he’d found. Now it appeared as though the cue would hit the eight ball dead-on, sending them both in a useless arc across the table. He pulled back and made the shot.
The cue brushed the eight, changing its course enough to head for the middle. The eight ball rolled slowly into the side pocket and landed with a clink against the other balls.
“Good game,” Evans said, clapping him on the shoulder. “I mean that. You’re welcome to come back and kick my ass anytime. At pool, that is. I’ll wipe the floor with you about Knossos anytime.”
Blake chuckled. “I have no doubt.”
They’d had something of a debate about the ancient Greek citadel. Blake had been less informed than his opponent, and it had felt damn good. Evans had given him a few recommendations for journal articles to read as well. There was something exhilarating about talking with someone, the connection. The energy in the room.
Evans brushed the chalk from his hands. “I’m going to head out, actually. Don’t know if the missus has been calling while we’ve been down here, but I figure I ought to head home nonetheless.”
Blake waved him off but stayed near the pool table instead of joining the other men for a cigar. Something about Evans’s words niggled at him. What if Erin had called him? He pulled out his phone, relieved to find the screen blank. No missed calls.
Then he noticed the bars were missing. No signal either. Don’t know if the missus has been calling… Damn. These old buildings had horrible reception to start with, and they were in the basement. For all he knew, this was some sort of old bomb shelter.
He ignored the men in the corner and took the stairs up to the building. Still nothing, and he didn’t stop walking. Pushing outside, he waited impatiently for his phone to regain signal. Like the piece of dumb machinery it was, it continued to show no signal, and like the dumb outdated guy he was, he didn’t know how to tell it to check again.
A sudden sense of panic overtook him. Irrational. Erin knew where he was tonight, and they already had a plan to meet tomorrow. Still, he couldn’t deny the warning bells going off inside his head. Instinct had kept him alive and relatively safe all this time. Even the painful scars were a blessing when he considered the alternative. He’d learned to trust those damn bells.
He pressed the button to restart his phone, but he didn’t wait for it. He strode in the direction of his car. It was late anyway, time to go, and he would apologize to the guys later for leaving so abruptly. He needed to check on Erin, to make sure she was okay. Because the bells told him something was wrong.
He was halfway to her apartment when his phone decided to buzz and beep at him. His heart dropped from his chest. Thirteen missed calls. An unlucky number, he thought uselessly. All from Erin. What could have happened? He’d missed her. He’d failed her. Grimly, he pressed the voicemail button to find out exactly how.