Page 160 of His Boys to Protect

“H-He's gone,” Ward choked out in a whisper.

Charlie squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. Ward had to be wrong. Their Sky couldn't be gone!

He darted back into the bedroom, starting his search over again. Maybe he missed something. If he found anything belonging to their Sky, then he'd know that Skylar would come back. He scrutinized the closet, the bathroom, the kitchen. Charlie opened every drawer, cabinet, and cupboard, hoping to see one pill, one sock, oneanything.

But it was all gone. It was like their Sky had never been there.

“Charlie, he's gone.”

Charlie screamed and thrust his hands down at his sides. Skylar couldn't be gone! Not now!

“Here.” Ward strode towards him and held out the piece of paper.

Charlie took it. He scanned the words over and over. That was Skylar's handwriting. He knew it well.

But the note didn't say anything about why Skylar had left or where he'd gone.

Charlie turned the paper over and over in his hands, searching for any more words.

But there was nothing. Not a single clue as to why their Sky had left them.

Charlie dropped the paper and screamed.

Everything was so fucking loud! He couldn't stand it. Charlie crumpled to the floor, beating his fists on his head as tears streamed down his cheeks.

Skylar wouldn't leave him. Or Ward. It didn't make any sense!

Big hands grabbed him. Lifted him. Charlie found himself wrapped up against Ward's body. The man held him so tight, he almost couldn't breathe.

But he didn't care. Charlie burrowed in closer, feeling like he might splinter apart into a million pieces. Ward's arms were the only things keeping him together.

Charlie cried until he felt utterly drained. His eyes hurt, and his cheeks were wet. He hated being wet in any capacity outside of a shower. And his nose was both plugged and running, which was gross and annoying. It was all too much. He couldn't think. Couldn't focus. Everything just kept getting louder!

Ward picked him up and carried him into the bathroom, then grabbed a wad of toilet paper and pressed it into his hands. Charlie blew his nose over and over. He had to get more toilet paper because there was still more mucus to get out. By the time he finished, his nose felt like it was burning.

And he wanted to cry all over again.

Why?he demanded.Why Sky leave?

Ward sank back onto the counter and hung his head. “I don't know, buddy. I'm so sorry. I wish I knew.”

They stood there in silence. Outside, cars went by, their roaring engines and squealing brakes sending itchy, stabbing sensations all through Charlie's body. In the kitchen, the refrigerator rumbled. It was old and noisy and Charlie hated it.

But it also reminded him that he hadn't eaten lunch yet. That was a loud feeling. It was hard to think when he was hungry!

When he tried to think of food, though, his stomach felt like it twisted around inside him.

This was all his fault. If he hadn't left that morning—if he hadn't insisted on going home—they would have been there. Skylar wouldn't have been able to leave. They could have stopped him.

They could have askedwhy.

“I knew something was wrong,” Ward suddenly muttered. He shook his head, his hands tightening on the edge of the counter. “I knew it. Something was off, but I was afraid to ask him what it was.”

Charlie froze. Ward had seen that something was wrong, but Charlie hadn't? How could that be? Charlie always knew when something was wrong. Things were supposed to be a certain way. Always. He could tell at a glance when something was missing or not quite right. Granted, he wasn't good at reading emotions. Those could be confusing even when they weren't too loud.

But he'd been so overwhelmed by what they'd shared last night, maybe he hadn't been able to see past it. All he'd been able to think about was running away. Getting back home. Escaping all the itchy, noisy things all around him so he could clear his head and feel comfortable again.

What if that was what Skylar had done? What if it had been too loud for him, too? Maybe Skylar had simply felt the need for a break—a chance to recover from all the noise—just like Charlie had done.

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