Page 80 of Wild for You
Jack
“Come on,step on the gas, man! What are you, like eighty or something?” I call to Sam from the passenger seat as I swipe through the mountains of tweets about Wombat Willy’s latest video. We’ve just landed in Chicago, and I’m trying like hell—no thanks to Sam’s old-man driving—to get to Gwen before it’s too late.
I knew my resignation video would make a wave, but nothing could’ve prepared me for the mass chaos hitting my inbox about the announcement. I can’t keep up with all the sponsorship offers, death threats, kudos, and basically everything in between. I let my head fall on the back of the headrest as I think of Landon and his high blood pressure. The poor man is probably ready to strangle me for not running this stunt by him before I posted it, but I’m a man fueled by desperation, and I had to do something to get her attention.
The hashtag WombatWilly is trending on Twitter, so I’ve spent the last twenty minutes since our plane landed scrolling through in search of anything that would give me real-time information about Gwen. My finger hovers over the screen when I see a video clip of her at a podium. “There we go.” I click play and catch a ten-second clip of her telling her boss to shove the promotion she worked so hard for—the thing she bitched about the entire time we were on that island—up her ass. I can’t help the giant grin that spreads across my face. I don’t even care if Gwen forgives me or anything that happens next. Knowing she stood in front of the press, and God knows who else, and told her boss to fuck off is like music to my ears.
God, I love that woman, and I hope she can forgive me for being such an arrogant prick, for assuming the worst of her when she’s given me zero reasons to do so. Now, I just need to find her and tell her how I feel.
“I’m literally driving ninety. I don’t know what more you expect!” Sam yells as he grips the steering wheel with white knuckles. I have to hand it to the guy; he helped me with the video launch and even booked our flights first thing this morning. I want to be mad at him, but I know he was just trying to stay out of it and let us handle our problems. Of course, that seems to be where everyone went wrong. Everyone assumed everyone knew because they were scared to spill our secrets.
Fucking Gwen is just as hardheaded as I am, and it goes to show we’ve both met our match.
My palms are sweaty, my heart is racing, and I just need to see her, touch her, know she’s okay, apologize, and assure her I’m nothing like her father, that I would never abandon her and our child. I feel sick just thinking I could’ve been anything like what she experienced from men growing up.
“I see it. That’s Éclat just ahead, the tall white brick building!” I point out to Sam as if the GPS he programmed hadn’t already told him that much. Hey, maybe I’m old school, but old habits die hard.
“I’ve got it.” He swerves into a parallel parking spot across from the building, and I tighten my grip on my crutches as I wait for his assistance. It kills me that I can’t jump out and o find her before we’ve even come to a stop, but I know my limits. Sam throws the car into park, and I leap out, tightening the grip on my crutches, and I stumble across the street, navigating oncoming traffic.
Car horns blare as I wobble across the street, making my way to the crowd outside the building. I squint, scanning the crowd for Gwen’s white blonde hair, but I have no luck.
Though I spot Sandra standing near the front as a slew of reporters shove microphones in her face. I smile and make my way toward her. I figure she’s my best bet until I can call Maggie or Elliot and figure out if they know where Gwen’s run off.
“Excuse me!” I wave to Sandra.
Her eyes widen when she notices me, and I take that as a cue to approach her. “I’m looking for Gwen Pierson. I believe you know her?”
She rolls her eyes and looks up, not making eye contact with me. “Mr. Willy, I assure you, if I had any idea of where Gwen is, I wouldn’t tell you if my life depended on it,” she scoffs. “Now, why don’t you hobble along and leave me to clean up this gigantic shit storm yourgirlfriendcreated for me.”
My heart skips a beat when she says the wordgirlfriend… So maybe there’s a chance she’ll forgive me.
“With the utmost disrespect, I feel like you’re getting exactly what you deserve for stringing her along all this time.” I laugh. “Maybe if you didn’t dangle that promotion in front of her face for the last, I don’t know, five years, she wouldn’t have felt so taken for granted.” I shrug. “But what do I know? I’m just a silly YouTuber.” I turn and make my way back to Sam’s parked car.
“Change of plans. She’s not here. I need you to get Maggie and Elliot on the phone right now and see if they know where she’s gone.”
“Already on it.” Sam’s phone screen lights up with Maggie’s number, and she answers on the second ring.
“Please tell me you know what the hell is going on right now!”
“Listen, Maggie. We’re looking for Gwen. Have you heard from her?”
“No, she hasn’t called me, but I just found out she quit her job on Twitter. What the hell is going on?” she shrieks.
“I have Jack, and we’re looking for Gwen. Is there any way you can find her? Do you think she’s with Elliot?”
“No, she wouldn’t have gone to Elliot’s …” She’s quiet for a moment. “Oh! I can track her phone! I forgot I set it up when I gave it to her … You know. after the accident, you can never be too careful—”
“Where is she!?” I scream before she can finish her sentence.
“Oh, um … hang on … let me just … Ok, it looks like she’s heading toward Rockford International—”
“Go!” I scream as Sam pulls out onto the busy street.
“Whoa, what’s going on over there? Do you need me to do anything? Is Gwen okay?” Maggie bombards us with questions over speakerphone.
“Don’t worry about it, Maggie. Just stay by the phone. If you hear from Gwen, tell her to wait where she is, I’m coming to get her.”
“Okay, but I really feel like—”
