Page 103 of Slap Shot Daddies

Why isn’t she answering? Where could she be?

"Change of plans," I say, my voice steady despite the storm inside. "Head to this address instead." I quickly type her apartment complex into the app.

The tires rumble against the pavement as we take the exit, and I mentally rehearse my approach. The words I need to say tumble over each other in my mind, a jumbled script that I hope will make sense when the time comes.

She won’t be expecting me. She might even slam the door in my face.

But that’s a risk I have to take.

Before I reach Kenzie's place, I pull out my phone from my jacket pocket and dial Reggie. He picks up almost immediately.

“Braden?” he mumbles, his voice thick with surprise. “Where the hell are ye, mate?”

“Back in Minneapolis,” I reply, adjusting my position in the back seat of the Uber as the city lights blur past the window. “I just landed. Heading to Kenzie's now.”

There's a moment of silence before I catch Ambrose's voice coming through the receiver, more alert now.

“Wait, you’re back?” Ambrose asks, his tone shifting from confusion to awareness. “She just texted us, man. Told us to meet her at her place.”

I blink, processing his words.

“What?”

“Yeah, like, ten minutes ago,” Reggie confirms, his voice clearer now. “We were just about to leave.”

My stomach twists with unease.

Kenzie reaching out first? That’s unexpected.

“You think she’s okay?” I ask, the concern in my voice betraying my attempt to stay calm.

Ambrose lets out a long breath. “No clue. She hasn’t talked to us much since...well, everything happened.”

I run a hand through my hair, feeling the tension knotting in my chest.

“All right,” I say, trying to sound more confident than I feel. “I’ll see you guys there.”

Hanging up, I lean back against the seat. My mind races with questions. Kenzie had spent weeks pushing us away, guarding her secrets, and keeping her distance.

And now, out of nowhere, she’s summoning us all to her place?

What changed?

I don’t know.

My fingers drum a nervous rhythm against my thigh as the car slows to a stop outside her apartment complex.

The street is quiet, with only a few porch lights casting a warm, golden glow onto the cracked sidewalks, creating long shadows that stretch across the pavement.

The place feels almost deserted, as if the world is holding its breath.

I step out of the car, and my breath forms small clouds in the chilly night air, dissipating quickly into the dark. Standing in front of the old brick building, I hesitate for a moment, feeling the weight of the darkness pressing down on me.

I need to make her understand.

I need her to know that she belongs with us and that we miss her.

That I miss her.

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