Page 58 of Surviving You, Scotch and Sammy 1

“Ang--”

“Consider it a wedding gift, I suppose. And a baby shower gift. And a ‘I’m a dumbass and forgot to use a condom’ gift. You’re lucky Sammy’s cute, ‘cause that baby’s gonna need her help.”

“Why are you people always so mean to me?”

He laughs. “Because you tried to sneak out on us, asshole. We’ll never forgive you for that shit.”

They’re assholes, but I wouldn’t trade them for anything. “You guys will come see us, right? I haven’t missed a single day with you lot since we were kids. I already fucking miss you.”

“Yeah,” Luc grumbles. “We’ll come see you. We’ll be living on your couch exactly two years from now. I guarantee it. We’re just ‘the others’ in Sam Turner’s band. We need you.”

“We still need to name the damn band! We’ve become a joke now.”

Marc shrugs his shoulders the same way he always does when this comes up. “Who cares! You’ve got bigger problems now. You can’t leave your baby nameless for too long. Pretty sure the state frowns on that. And you can’t call it gin and tonic, so don’t get any dumbass ideas.”

“Where’s our baby mama, anyway?” Luc asks. He looks around the still dark area, and I follow his gaze. The sun is still hidden, the shadows are deep, but the moonlight shines on the same lake I’ve watched her swim for years. Empty.

I look at my watch and frown. “Dunno. She should be here any minute. We come down here every day. Same time, same place, so she shouldn’t be far away.”

“Maybe she dumped your ugly ass.” Luc punches me in the shoulder, pushing me back so hard I stumble as my heart clenches. Luc must notice my expression, because his laughter cuts off instantly. “Dude, I was kidding. She’s as pathetic about you as you are about her. I can feel the cooties in the air every time you’re in the same room.”

I shouldn’t doubt his words. I shouldn’t doubt what Sammy and I have, but as the morning dragged on and the sun climbed over the horizon, my stomach dropped out of my asshole and anxiety took up residence in my gut. As the guys’ postures got lazier, but their eyes turned sharper, we stood in the morning heat and we waited…

And waited.

And waited.

Sammy was supposed to be here at five a.m. By six, I wanted to be sick. By eight, I insisted on sticking around another couple hours, ‘just in case.’ But by nine, I was back to sick. I called her phone no less than two hundred times in that four-hour block of time.

I didn’t stop calling because I wanted to, but because my battery sat perilously at three percent, and I didn’t dare lose all charge and risk her not being able to call me.

“So, she was sick yesterday,” Angelo reasons. He drops his hand on my shoulder before I run to her. “I bet she’s still sick. Let’s go find her. Fuck what her parents say if you knock on their door. They already know you’re married, and they know she’s knocked up. There’s nothing your visit could hurt. It’s already all done, and we already know they don’t like you.”

He takes my bag from the hood of his car, throws it over the front seat and into the back. “Climb in, leave the bike. We’ll come back for it.”

I nod shakily, and stand back as Luc and Marc climb into the back. Three dirty and scratched motorcycles stand as a monument in the mid-morning sun as we drive away, and I clasp my hands together as dread ties my gut into tight knots that choke me up so bad tears almost form in my eyes.

I didn’t freak like this yesterday when she didn’t turn up at school. I was curious, but I didn’t freak. I didn’t even freak when Ang called me and said she was crying.

So why am I freaking today? What changed?

I have more to lose now. True.

But she was already my entire universe.

Ang drives straight toward the Ricardo’s fancy estate and up to the gates, and pressing his hand down on the buzzer, we wait while Marc sits in the back and grumbles. “I fucking hate these people. You managed to find the one single decent Ricardo of the lot.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Fucking asshole sent everything back to the kitchen on Monday night. There was nothin’ wrong with his meal, but he still complained about every single dish – after his fat ass ate three-quarters of it. He got out of the whole night with a free meal for his whole family, and you know his ass didn’t leave a tip.”

“Go away, boys.” Our heads snap up at the deep voice rumbling through the crackling speaker box.

“Mr. Ricardo.” Angelo clears his throat. “Could we please just come in? We’re worried about Sammy.”

“Samantha is fine. She’s right in front of me, healthy as a horse. Now leave my property.”

“Prove it!” I shout across Angelo. “Ricci, tell me you’re okay, baby.”

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