Page 99 of The Meaning Of You

I stopped pacing and stared up at the night sky. Clouds drifted slowly over blazing clusters of stars, blown by a warm northerly heavy with the promise of rain, which nobody was buying. We’d heard it all before. Seen the clouds. Felt the hint of moisture brush our faces. Then watched as the front passed us by.

A memory flashed in my brain. Mads’ hand in mine at the ravine that morning. Looking up. Another sky. Another time. Just a few hours that felt like a lifetime.

And back at his house. The soft crush of his lips on mine. His taste exploding over my tongue. His body snug against my own. The way he kissed like he knew exactly what he wanted and how to get it from me.

Experienced. Knowing. Rising to the challenge. Taking none of my shit.

Sexy as hell.

I’d been a fool.

And it was my fault he was gone.

What if he was hurt?

What if he was already dead? I gasped and spun around.

“What?”

I turned to find Gazza walking my way. He and Jerry had been holed up in the car, talking and watching me pace.

“What if we’re too late?” I voiced my deepest fear. “What if they’ve already killed him?”

Gazza walked right up and took me by the shoulders. “You have to stop this.”

“I can’t.” I studied his dark eyes, the odd fleck of gold sparkling in the marina lights. “It’s my fault Mads was taken. I should never have involved him in any of this,” I muttered angrily.

Gazza rolled his eyes. “Yeah, it’s all your fault. Along with climate change and the corruption of the food chain. I didn’t take you for a drama queen, Nick, so how about focusing on what we actually know and not what we’re scared of.”

“I’m not?—”

He raised a brow.

“Okay, I’m fucking terrified he’s hurt. Aren’t you?”

He sighed and his shoulders slumped a little. “Of course I bloody am. But this is no more your fault than it is mine for hooking up with that fuckwit Ben. Or Davis’s for being such a nosey bugger.”

I smiled despite myself because he was right. I patted his chest. “Mads is lucky to have you.”

Gazza snorted. “Damn right.” He dragged me into an awkward hug. “But just so you know, if this does go arse over tits, I might be more than a touch pissy with you for a long while, and you’re gonna let me be until I’m done, okay? Then you’re gonna come find me so we can talk.” He eyeballed me sternly, that pink streak of hair glowing neon under the sign for the marina pub.

I returned his stare. “Agreed.”

A car door slammed and we spun to find Jerry running our way. “Samuel just called,” she said as she ran. “They’re five minutes away. They got the search warrant.”

Hope bloomed in my chest. “Thank Christ. Did they say—” A loud crack broke the night and I spun around. “What the hell was that?” I searched the shadows and partially lit boardwalks for any movement.

“A fucking gunshot.” Gazza started running toward the public jetty on the far side of the marina. “Come on.”

I launched after him wondering how in the hell Madigan’s apprentice knew what a gunshot sounded like.

“Wait,” Jerry shouted. “Samuel said not to?—”

I kept running.

“God damn you stupid, stupid men,” she cried, following us. “Not a single fucking brain between you. Samuel’s gonna skin me alive.”

“Look!” Gazza pointed to two men running our direction from the furthest berth on the jetty.

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