Page 75 of Forever Theirs

Which, in this case, was finding Aspen.

“Calm down, big fella,” I whispered to him, then turned back to Paul. “We’re looking for her since she wasn’t where we thought she would be. With the storm rolling in”—I gestured to the window and the snow pouring down, already accumulating in a few areas—“we want to make sure she’s safe.”

Paul studied Miles before sighing. “She only stayed for one cup of coffee.” He stiffened, which made both Miles and me stand tall. Gaze locked on the Employees Only door, Paul’s bushy brows furrowed. “And had a conversation with Jasper when he came in for his shift—late again. After that, she left.” He shrugged and wiped down the top of the pastry display case. “I never should’ve hired him. He left his shift early, about the time she did, saying he didn’t feel well and needed to head out. Damn kid. No wonder he can’t hold down a job.”

I stood frozen, barely breathing.

“Jasper Cain?” I rasped.

Paul hummed and nodded while scrubbing at a dried spill.

Barely able to move, I chanced a look at Miles, who had gone utterly still and cursed.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Caroline’s boyfriend, whom Hudson and Oliver couldn’t pin down to discuss our concerns about her being missing, not only talked to Aspen but left when she did.

This was not good.

My stomach rolled with dread, and bile crept up my throat while my chest tightened painfully, making it hard to breathe.

“Aiden.” Miles’s bark jerked me out of my spiraling dark thoughts, each worse than the last. “Let’s move.”

I could only nod in response, too wrapped up in my head. This was all my fault. I shouldn’t have sided with her, should’ve made her take Miles’s concern more seriously. If I had stood with him and told her she was under house arrest, unable to leave unless one of us was with her, then she would be in my arms and not missing.

If she was hurt…

A hard shove sent me stumbling to the side, my shoulder bouncing off the brick of a building. I shook my head to clear my thoughts and glared at Miles.

“Stop it,” he snarled. Firm grip around the back of my neck, he guided-slash-forced me along the sidewalk toward the truck, where Jubie already waited. “Get out of your head and stop whatever you’re thinking. Let’s check her cabin. She could be there.”

“Or she could be dead because I wasn’t there. Because I didn’t warn her or?—”

“It’s not your fault, Aiden,” Miles said the second we were all in the truck cab. He started the engine and reversed out of the parking spot before turning toward The Nest. “Everything bad that happens around you isn’t your fault.” I hated the softness of his tone, like he was talking to an upset child. “I know that damn ex of yours made you believe you were ground zero for all that’s wrong in the world, but you’re not.”

“She has to be okay.” I was barely able to get a word out around my tight and dry throat. “She has to be, Miles.” I winced at my pathetic, pleading tone.

Adjusting his grip around the steering wheel, Miles shot a worried look my way before nodding. The rest of the drive to The Nest was quiet, only the sound of windshield wipers squeaking with every pass to clear the thick snowflakes. Even Jubie, probably sensing the tension, was quiet and hyper-focused.

After what felt like hours of driving, we topped the hill, and The Nest appeared. Almost hitting a few guests wandering around and snapping pictures of the falling snow, Miles tore through the resort, tires squealing to turn toward Aspen’s cottage.

Like earlier in town, I was out of the truck, door left wide open for Jubie to follow, before Miles had even put the truck into Park. A deep, booming bark followed me as I raced down the path, heavy boots punching through the thin layer of snow that accumulated on the ground. Leaping onto her porch, my boots slid along the slick wooden planks, sending me skidding into the door.

Ignoring the aching places that had slammed into the thick wood, I gripped the door handle and gave it a hard turn, praying that it was unlocked so I could barge inside and not have to wait for her to answer.

But it wasn’t.

Locked.

Pounding one fist on the door while running the other hand through my damp hair, I yanked hard on the ends, breathing deep to keep from sinking into all the dark and violent thoughts that swirled and threatened to swallow me whole.

Fuck my ex for turning me into this mass of guilt and fear when anything wrong happened. After being blamed and accused of anything that wasn’t perfect, I believed in preparing for the worst when something happened.

“Not here?” Miles called behind my back.

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