Page 113 of Famous Last Words
Staring at Andy, I try desperately to make sense of his words. But it’s impossible. I haven’t done anything wrong; why wouldn’t he want to see me? I shake my head. “What?”
Andy sighs, his shoulders falling as he seems to search for his words. “Look… don’t take it personally?—”
“Don’t take itpersonally?” I snap.
Andy glances around at the people scattered about. Gently grabbing my elbow, he walks me over to a nook out of the way, next to the water cooler.
“He doesn’t want to see anyone right now,” Andy continues. “He’s not in a good place, he—” He looks around again, lowering his voice. “He’s been formally charged with possession and DUI.”
DUI?I gasp.
Andy confirms my unspoken question with a slow nod. “He tested positive for cocaine.”
I balk, searching Andy’s face. “But, h-he doesn’t…” I trail off because it suddenly makes sense. The crazed look in his eyes. The menacing grin he flashed me when I told him to slow down. He was high. Has Robbie been lying to me all this time?
“He’s maintaining his innocence, but—” Andy drags a hand down his weary face. “I mean, it’s not looking good.”
“You can’t give up on him, Andy,” I say quickly. “He can’t go through this again. He said it almost killed him last time.”
“Nobody is giving up on him, Fran.” Andy placates me, putting his hands on my shoulders and squeezing gently. “Look, I ordered a car to come take you home.” He steadies me with a knowing gaze. “Go home, get some rest and we’ll… we’ll deal with it tomorrow, okay?”
I nod, swallowing the lump of emotion in the back of my throat. I mean, no, it’s not okay. But what else can I possibly do?
CHAPTER 44
FRAN
The following day came and went. I skipped work because I didn’t get home from the police station until the sun was rising.
I tried sleeping, but it was useless. Despite how exhausted I was, my mind wouldn’t shut off. I couldn’t do anything, not until I knew Robbie was okay. Instead, I just lay in bed all day, watching the daylight in my room shift from morning to afternoon, to dusk and eventually evening. And even now, as I lie here in the dark, nothing but the dim glow of the streetlight shining through the window, there’s still no word from Robbie.
I’ve tried calling and texting him, but each time my call goes unanswered, and my messages are left unread. At first, I was worried. Then I was angry. Now, I’m a mess of conflicting emotions. What if something is seriously wrong?
My phone shudders, the screen lighting up the room. I move so fast to grab it from where it’s charging on the nightstand. But instead of Robbie, I see Vera’s name, and I know she’s just looking out for me, but I really, really don’t feel like talking right now. Reluctantly, I press the answer call button because I know if I don’t, she’ll just keep trying.
“Hey,” I croak.
“Are you okay?” It’s the urgency in her tone that causes me to sit upright.
“Yeah, I’m okay.” My brows knit together. “Why? What’s up?”
“Have you not seen the news?”
“No. What news? What’s going on?” A shiver runs down my spine.
“Sending you a link now.”
“Is it Robbie?” My phone vibrates, and I switch the call to speaker as I click on the message that just popped up.
“You haven’t spoken to him?”
“No… I can’t get hold of—” The minute theSports Centerpage loads, the heading of the article causes me to stop, mid-sentence.
Robbie Mason Released From New York Thunder Amid Drug Charges; Expelled From NHL Pending A Full Player Conduct Enquiry.
“Shit,” I say under my breath. I suppose this is why I haven’t been able to get in contact with him all day.
“Is there anything I can do?” Vera interrupts my thoughts.
