Page 152 of Of Heartbreak and Harmony
Callie hands me her phone, a text thread with her sister open on the screen. I scan a few texts between Callie and Glory about the show tomorrow, then there’s a message from Glory that says, “okay, fancy.” I furrow my brow and scroll to find a photo of a bouquet of calla lilies.
For a moment, it doesn’t register what I’m seeing. At first, I thinkCallie sent her sister a photo of the bouquet she got in New York, but then I see the background of the photo. It’s Callie’s kitchen. My eyes widen as the realization takes over, and I whip my eyes back to Callie.
“Were these delivered to them?”
“I don’t know,” Callie says, voice trembling. “They’re not answering their phones now. Mom or Glory. I’m trying not to freak out, but...I just think I need to go to them. I just need to check on them. I can be there in thirty minutes.”
“No. No, I’ll figure it out, okay? I’m sure they’re fine. It’s past nine, now, so they’re probably in bed. It’s okay.”
“Glory never goes to bed this early.”
I smooth my hands down her hair. “Did you show Damon?”
“Yeah. He said he’d look into it.”
“See? It’s okay. I know it’s hard, but just stay calm.” I wrap her in my arms once more. “God, I’m so fucking glad you’re safe.”
“Me too.”
I press a kiss to her head and close my eyes, breathing through the absolute terror I had felt just minutes earlier. If something had happened to her...
“C’mon,” I whisper. “Try to rest a little. They’ll figure it all out soon.”
Callie nods and lets me lead her to one of the attached rooms. It’s empty but for some of Mabel’s things, and I pull the sheets back and sit Callie on the bed. I kick off my shoes, then kneel to the ground and pull off hers before urging her to scoot over. Just as I move to climb in with her, there’s a knock at the door connected to the suite.
“Torren, I need to speak to you.”
Hammond’s voice is clipped, and I sigh, forcing a tired smile on my lips. Like I’d hoped, Callie returns it.
“I need to go humor Ham,” I say, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You stay here and rest.”
“Sure.”
“Everything is okay,” I repeat, forcing confidence in my tone. “We’ll see Glory and your mom tomorrow.”
Callie smiles, and I head back into the suite. Mabel is sitting on the couch, but Sav, Levi and Jonah are missing. I make eye contact with Hammond, and he jerks his head to the door heading into the hallway.Without question, I follow him. Hammond leads me down the hall and into another empty suite, presumably the one Jonah and I would be staying in if we were staying in this hotel. When I find Jonah inside, my assumption is confirmed, but then I see Damon, Craig, and two people I’ve never seen before. A woman in a pantsuit, and a man in a police uniform. I arch a brow and look right at Hammond.
“What’s going on?”
“I’ve got something I’d like you to watch.” Hammond holds his hand out to one of the strangers and is handed a tablet. “This is security footage from the club level of the arena. I want you to tell me if you recognize the person wearing the baseball hat.”
I nod, but I can’t bring myself to say anything as I train my eyes on the tablet. The woman next to me reaches over and pushes play, then surveillance video covers the screen. My heart is thundering, echoing in my head as I watch the footage.
A man in a baseball hat comes into the frame holding a black backpack. He keeps his head down, but something about the way he moves, about the hunch of his shoulders, makes my skin feel tight and uncomfortable. It’s eerily familiar yet wholly foreign, and I find myself holding my breath. I don’t breathe as I watch him set the backpack next to a trashcan, and then he paces. The quickness of his gait, the unnatural thinness of his frame. Chills skate down my back.
“No,” I whisper. No one responds.
The man peeks his head into the arena a few times, making sure to duck away whenever someone comes close, and then he takes a phone out of his pocket. He seems to send a text, a move that makes his hands visible. I focus on the tattoos covering his fingers, and then on the jagged scar on his forearm, just before he takes off running.
My jaw drops, and I shake my head, but I can’t bring myself to speak yet.
“Do you know who that was, Mr. King?”
I look into the eyes of the woman. Instead of answering her, I deflect.
“Who are you?”
It’s Hammond who answers.
