Page 7 of Rectify

“So she’s all right then?” Rogan asked carefully. He knew Natalya disapproved of him, and he’d always been careful not to force Aedan to choose between them.

“She left a message on the landline. She broke things off with me.” He tried to keep the blinding pain from filtering through his voice. Acid burned in his stomach at the idea of losing her. Only the thought that she was being pressured, that he could somehow fix this, kept him functioning.

Otherwise, the devastation of losing her might well bring him to a standstill.

“She what?” Rogan asked.

For once, Aedan had managed to shock his cousin.

“There’s something wrong,” Aedan insisted. “She sounded frightened. I need to make sure she’s all right.”

“You’re due in L.A. Monday morning, right?” Rogan asked.

“The movie isn’t as important as Natalya.”

“Of course not. But there’s no point going down there and ruining your career and then finding out she’s fine. Let me send someone to investigate.”

“But what if she’s in trouble? What if she needs me?”

“Then he’ll contact you immediately,” Rogan reassured him. “This will work better, anyway. If she is in trouble, and you race in there, you could make things worse. My man will discover what is going on quickly and quietly.”

It was a good solution. Although it galled him to let someone else go in his place.

“Leave it to me, Aedan.”

Rogan tended to act the part of the overprotective big brother, but Aedan knew he was right.

“I want him there as soon as possible.”

“He will be,” Rogan promised.

Aedan grumbledand rolled over in bed. “Someone turn that damn alarm off!”

He pulled a pillow over his head to drown out the noise.

It didn’t work.

He sat up, glaring at his phone, which shook and vibrated.

“Ahh, crap.” He grabbed his phone and turned off the alarm before switching on the bedside lamp.

4.45 a.m.

Jesus Christ. He’d arrived in L.A. late last night and hadn’t gone to sleep until after midnight. So he was absolutely exhausted. He’d been calling Natalya constantly over the last three days. But every time, his call had gone to voicemail. Where was she? Fear for her was burning him from the inside out.

After a long shower, he felt marginally more human. As he fixed himself some much-needed coffee, his phone rang.

Who the hell would be calling him atthis hour?

Nerves filled him as he saw Rogan’s name displayed on the screen.

“Rogan? Have you heard something?”

“Yeah,” Rogan replied grimly. “It’s not good.”

“She’s in trouble? I’ll book the first flight out.” Screw the movie. They’d just have to understand.

“She’s not in trouble. Aedan, she’s found someone else.”

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