Page 83 of Unwanted

Knowing that I was the one to bring him the happiness he deserves, knowing I was no longer his burden to bear, it made my chest tighten in all the best ways.

“Are you ready to go?” Frankie asks after he and Jordan come back into the living room.

He holds his hand out for me and I take it. As I rise up off the chair, he tugs me to him. “I missed you.”

Not caring we’re in someone else’s house, I grab his chin and bring his mouth to mine. “I missed you too,” I murmur. “Want me to call an Uber?”

He gives me a smug smile. “I already did.”

Frankie and I say our goodbyes, with the promise that Gael and Jordan will visit us in LA when it’s time to assist Frankie with the opening of the new office.

The drive back to Frankie’s place is short, and if I’m honest, even though we’ve only been here for a night, I like how alone we are.

“What do you think of looking for our own place when we get back?” I ask as he unlocks the apartment door.

Frankie looks over at me incredulously. “Are you serious?”

“Well, yeah.” I follow him into his apartment and take another look around. “I think it’s time for us to take that next step. We deserve the alone time and the personal space,” I tell him. “And you know the others are hopeless when it comes to that.”

Frankie wraps his arms around my neck and kisses my jaw.“You know Clem’s going to say I put ideas in your head.”

I angle my head so he can keep kissing me while we talk. “I think once she finds out I’m actually staying and you were never considering Seattle, she might be a bit more agreeable.”

We’re interrupted by the incessant beeping of Frankie’s phone.

With one arm still hooked over my shoulder, he pulls his cell out of his pocket and looks at the screen. The confusion on his face, followed by absolute desolation, has me tearing the phone from his hands.

My eyes scan the messages.

Lennox: He’s using again.

Lennox: I think he’s going to hurt himself.

Lennox: What am I supposed to do?

Before I even have a chance to ask any questions, my own cell rings, an unrecognizable number on the screen.

“Hello.”

“Hello, is this Arlo Bishop?”

I hesitate before answering, trying but having no luck pinpointing the voice. “Yes. It is. May I ask who’s calling?”

“Sir, we have you here listed as the next of kin for a Mr. Rhys Denser.”

“You do? I mean, I am?” Just as the words finally settle in, I realize I haven’t asked the most important question. “Is he okay?”

“Mr. Bishop.” The lady’s tone sombers immediately. “This is Cassandra from UCLA Medical Center, Mr Denser was brought in for a suspected overdose. Rhys has been brought in for a suspected overdose and it is protocol to call his next of kin. How soon can you get here?”

28

FRANKIE

The Uber stops at the UCLA Medical Center entrance and it feels surreal to be back here again so soon.

Between the car and the plane ride it took us almost six agonizing hours to get home.

And for six agonizing hours, Arlo and I hadn’t said a word to each other.

---