Page 99 of Beautiful Crazy

Here goes nothing.

Chapter 22

Emmett

I haven’t slept in almost three days. I doze here and there in between whiskey breakfast and whiskey lunch and whiskey dinner. I called off work for the rest of the week, telling my boss I’ve come down with a flu virus. While that excuse may have worked for my boss, it didn’t work for Cheyenne who has texted me numerous times in the past three days to make sure I’m still alive.

I miss Emily.

I want her back here with me so badly it hurts. Physically hurts. My body aches, my chest is tight, my head pounds all hours of the day.

I have no idea what her plans will be when she returns. If she returns.

I still have no idea where she is. I’m sure my brothers would have told me if her car was spotted in or around Bardstown so there’s no way she’s there. Her parents haven’t contacted me, nor has her brother so I can only assume none of them know what’s going on either.

That’s probably for the best.

Wes would rip me a new asshole for hurting his baby sister.

Maybe I deserve that anyway.

What I’m struggling to figure out is what made her leave in the first place. She didn’t seem angry when she was at my office. If anything, her demeanor came off as frightened or anxious, so I don’t understand why she felt the need to run away without talking to me first. Usually, I can calm her nerves when something is bothering her but this time, she didn’t even give me a damn chance.

I’m helpless and I hate feeling like I’m just waiting around for my best friend to decide she needs to have a life without me in it.

Lola hops onto the coffee table right in front of me and meows dramatically. I’m sure in cat language she just called me the biggest pussy this side of the Mississippi.

“Yeah, Lola. I get it. I’m a loser, blah, blah, blah. You don’t have to rub it in.”

She meows again, leaping to my knee and then climbing me until she can boop me with her nose. I run my hand down her back, lingering on that spot right by her tail that all cats seem to go crazy for. Just as she hops down, there’s a knock at my door.

I hope it might be Emily until I remember she has a key. She wouldn’t need to knock.

“Coming.”

Lazily, I pick myself up off the couch and meander to the door, swinging it open. “Graham? Beckham?”

Beckham gives me a quick once over and shakes his head disapprovingly. “You’re a hot fucking mess, you know that?”

I look down at myself in my gray sweatpants, black t-shirt, and bare feet. “Yep. I am.”

Graham waves his hand in front of his nose. “It stinks in here too, Emm. When was the last time you showered?”

“Three days. I haven’t showered since she left.”

Lola meows and Graham scoops her up in his arms. “Has our brother been neglecting you too, pretty girl?” She meows again right on cue.

“So, what are you guys doing here?”

“We’ll tell you what we’re doing here but you have to go shower first,” Beck demands.

“What? Why?”

“Because you reek, Emmett. It smells like body odor and whiskey in here. Good Lord, man, pull yourself together. Go get a hot shower while Graham and I clean up a bit. Then we’ll talk.”

“Do you know something about Emily?” My mood brightens. “Please if you know something, I need you to tell me right fucking now.”

Beckham shakes his head. “I don’t know anything that you don’t, Emm. I’m sorry, but we did bring something that could, at the very least, lift your spirits a bit.”

---