Page 69 of Living with Fire
“Thank you,” I tell him, placing another kiss to his lips. “For so much, but especially for making me feel safe.”
“I can’t think of anything I’d rather do,” he says, then amends with a grin, “Well, that’s not entirely true. I can think of something I like equally as much.” He doesn’t need to elaborate further. I grin back, feeling my cheeks tinge pink. “Mmm, love that blush. Gonna bring that out again later. For now, though, we have matters to attend to.”
“What matters?” I ask, frowning after he gives me one last kiss before sliding back into his own seat.
“Well, when we’re out on a call, we always want as much information as possible. It helps us figure out the best course of action. I think we need to treat this the same way.”
He puts the truck into gear and starts navigating out of the parking lot and onto the road. I’m not sure where he’s going with this, but he seems to have a plan, and for once, I don’t question him. I’m too spent after the panic attack to do much of anything but hold his hand and watch out the window as Santa Rosé goes by.
I never imagined he’d pull into the parking lot of another park. This time a city park with lots of grass; soccer fields at one end, baseball diamonds at the other. Large trees surround the park and are dotted around the sports fields, providing shade from the hot California sun.
The lot he pulled into is quiet, though there is a baseball game going on across the field. There’s another parking lot over there which explains why this one isn’t busy. It’s lovely, but I’m not sure what we’re doing here, or what information can be gained from it.
Nate gets out without a word, goes into the backseat for something, and then disappears from my view. I follow him to the back of the truck where he’s pulling the tailgate down and laying a blanket on it. He backed into this spot, and I glance across the field at the view from here, the ball diamonds straight across from where we are.
“I thought we were getting information?” I ask, perplexed.
“We are. Or you are. Come here.” He reaches for me, and I yelp in surprise when he lifts me up and sets me down on the tailgate of his truck. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he unlocks it, fiddles around for a minute, then hands it to me. “My number is blocked so no one will see it come up. Find out what everyone knows.”
Imploring blue eyes meet mine. “Call home, Sav.”
CHAPTER 24
SAVANNA
“What?” My eyes widen to saucers. Horror rushes over me. He can’t be serious. Call home? I… I can’t! “No! Nate, I can’t.”
“You can. You need to, especially with that video out there now.” His hands are running up and down my thighs in a comforting gesture as he stands between them. “If they’ve seen it, they’re probably worried sick. Can you imagine if one of your brothers disappeared and six months later you saw a video like that?”
My heart sinks and I bite my bottom lip, picking at a nail on one hand as I hold Nate’s phone in the other. I hadn’t thought of that, but of course he did. While I’ve been consumed by fear of Vincent, Nate’s been putting himself into other people’s shoes to see how they would feel.
My number one priority has been everyone I love, which sounds ridiculous because I know I hurt them by disappearing. With the secret of where I am out in the world as public knowledge, however, there’s no reason I shouldn’t call home. If the roles were reversed as Nate suggested, I would be sick with worry. And then I would be doing everything I possibly could to find him. Though, if I’m being honest, I would have been looking long before any video.
Maybe I should be glad they haven’t shown up at my front door.
Not that you have one right now.
I frown at myself. It’s not entirely true. I do have a door at my apartment, it’s just that no one is allowed in. And the one at Nate’s… well, they’d never find that one. But if they’ve seen the video, they might already be in Santa Rosé looking for me. My heart aches. If they were here, in this city, so close, and yet so far, because I didn’t have a home they could track me down in, I would be heartbroken. As would they.
Nate sees when I put it all together, giving me a smile. “Quinn texted me earlier, reminding me of the slo-pitch game going on. She, Hailey, and Shawn are playing. Said I should bring you by to watch as part of our date.”
He curls a finger around a tendril of hair and brushes it behind my ear. “Come join me when you’re done, or I’ll come check on you in a while if you don’t feel like coming down. Take your time.”
He cups my face in a gentle palm and leans in to press a soft kiss to the corner of my lips. “Then we’ll go home, and I’ll hold you all night if that’s what you need.”
“Okay,” I whisper, and he steps out from between my legs, turning towards the field.
Anxiety grips me at the loss of his calming comfort, but he’s only two steps away when he turns back and holds up a finger. I turn to watch as he goes to the cab of the truck before returning with a box of tissues. Giving me a wink, he places it beside me and then he’s gone, leaving me to make a phone call I’ve thought about more times than I can count, and cried over enough to fill a swimming pool.
I watch as Nate walks across the field and reaches the baseball diamond. He slaps a guy on the back, Shawn I think, before they both turn to look my way. I lift a hand, getting a wave back from the other man. Then I see Hailey, her copper hair a tell-tale sign, and she gives me a wave as well.
I wonder what he’ll tell them. I kind of hope it’s something along the lines of him not allowing me to be near them after the night before. Just to get them back a little. Make them a little worried.
Taking a breath, I look at the phone and sigh. It’s been six months. I never used to go longer than a few days without talking to my dad or brothers. I spoke with Maddie daily. It was a hard adjustment to make when I left, not being able to talk to my people. Something that never got easier.
Part of me believed I would never talk to them again, just so I could keep them safe, but here I am, phone in hand, about to make a call I'm unsure my heart can handle. Biting my lip, I pull up the phone app and dial the number I know by heart. I’m not halfway through typing it when it becomes hard to see through my watery eyes, but I manage to get it done and take a deep breath, pressing send before I can chicken out.
It rings twice before it’s picked up and I hear my father’s gruff voice full of trepidation. “Hello?”