Page 231 of Vegas Heat

He cranes his neck to try to get a look, and then he looks at me and shakes his head. “I don’t see him.” He glances over toward Connor, and then he makes his way over with me right behind him. “Where’s Jacob?”

Connor looks around and checks the line where Marissa and Cheryl stand. His brows dip, and he strides over to them.

I turn around in a circle, panic starting to climb up my spine as I don’t see him in the near vicinity.

There’s a lot of people walking around. It would be easy for a child to get lost…or worse.

I don’t let that thought form, but fear takes an icy grip onto my heart.

“Jacob?” Marissa yells, jumping out of line and looking around like I am—but in a different way. With motherly panic that her son is missing. “Jacob?”

“Let’s look around and meet back here,” Cooper suggests, somehow staying calm even though I feel on the verge of tears and this isn’t even my kid.

“I’ll retrace our steps back,” I volunteer. “I’ll text you if I see him.”

He nods, and I take off from the way we just came while he formulates a plan with the rest of his family. I draw in deep breaths while my eyes dart everywhere looking for him.

I try to think back to the last time I saw him. I just noticed he was missing when we got into the line at the big Ferris wheel, so he can’t have wandered too far off.

I duck into the souvenir shop we just came out of. He was with us when we walked in there. Maybe he stayed behind to check things out, but the store is filled with loads of junk he wouldn’t really want, and I don’t see him anyway.

Come on, Gabby. Think.

And that’s when it hits me. I remember he was tugging his mom’s arm when we passed by a candy store a block or so ago, but she was talking to Cheryl as she ignored his request to go in.

I race back to the candy store, darting in and out of people as they walk in the opposite direction as me. They’re cursing at me and glaring at me and I couldn’t care less as I work my mission to find the missing boy.

I throw the door open and glance wildly around, and I see the top of a little head over a bin of candy.

I walk in that direction, and sure enough, he’s sitting on the floor munching on some chocolate covered raisins. I send Cooper a quick text.

Me:Found him. Sugar Shack. He’s okay.

I slide down the bin and take a seat next to him. “Can I have one?”

He hands one over, and I chew it. “Your family is worried about you.”

“I don’t care.”

“You don’t?” I ask.

He doesn’t answer right away as he chews thoughtfully on his raisin, and then he glances over at me as if his nine-year-old mind is judging whether he can talk to me about this or not.

And then he does. “Nobody ever listens to me. Nobody ever wants to do what I want to do. It’s always Ethan Ethan Ethan, baseball baseball baseball. I’m sick of it, and I wanted to see what was in this store.”

“I get that,” I say softly. I hold out my hand for another raisin, and he hands one over.

“Aren’t you going to yell at me?”

I shake my head. “It’s not my job to punish you, buddy. You shouldn’t have run off, and you shouldn’t be eating candy you haven’t paid for—”

“You’re eating it,” he points out.

I laugh. “I’m going to pay for it. Fill the bag, and you can pick out one other thing, okay?”

“Aren’t you mad?”

I shake my head. “I’m glad you’re okay. That’s all that matters right now, and I’m sorry you felt like nobody was listening to you.”

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