Page 46 of On The Run

Gray wasn’t thrilled to go to Mom and Dad’s rather than spending the day with Aiden, but I knew that they’d spoil the shit out of him, and he’d be fine. I helped him pack his bag, and by the time we were on our way to my parents’ house, he’d perked up tremendously.

My mom had questions, obviously, but I had no answers, and I evaded them in a way she’d never have let me get away with when I was a kid. She took it easy on me now, though the looks she fixed me with promised a hearty interrogation once things were settled.

By the time I went to kiss Gray goodbye, he hadn’t forgotten about Aiden, but he was no longer upset and was talking a mile a minute about going to the indoor playground with go-carts with Grampa. I mouthed a thank you to Dad as I left. I knew they’d make him feel better.

Once I was in the car, however, I had no idea what my next step should be. Aiden was still not answering his phone. I didn’t know where he lived, nor did I know what his Pops’s phone number was. The only places I knew were the coffee shop and that he had classes at the college on Wednesday nights. Neither of those were very helpful at the moment. It was a Sunday, and there was no way I was waiting till Wednesday to try to find him at school. Even waiting till tomorrow to see if he showed up at work was a big no. I told Aiden I’d find him, and I wasn’t breaking that promise the very next day.

I drove by the coffee shop just in case. He didn’t specify where he was going for breakfast. I knew money was tight for him, so it made sense he’d go to a place he probably got discounts or free food from. And if Aiden went to the coffee shop, there was a very high chance he just got caught up. Maybe they were busy and he was guilted into helping out. That would explain why he wasn’t answering his phone. Though, why was it going straight to voicemail? I’d spoken to him enough times during his workdays to know he didn’t shut his phone off. He couldn’t risk it in case his pops needed him.

Fuck, that unease in my belly grew. Aiden didn’t shut his phone off, not ever. Maybe he wasn’t glued to it like most young twenty-somethings, but he always had it charged, on, and nearby.Just in case,he’d told me. There was no way in hell he’d purposely risk not getting to his pops in time if there was an emergency.

Aiden’s car wasn’t in the lot when I pulled up to the shop. I still parked in my usual spot and slammed my door closed as I ran inside. I froze when I realized I didn’t recognize anyone working. Shit. I was kind of banking on Anna being there. I knew that if she had any idea where Aiden was, she’d tell me. But these people didn’t know me at all. I wondered if they knew anything about Aiden. Would they be willing to talk to me, or did they think I was just the creepy old dude harassing the cute young barista?

“Hi, can I help you?” an older woman standing at the counter asked me. She was polite but her gaze was sharp, and I thought she was suspicious of me right from the get-go. I could hardly blame her. I came in guns blazing and must look unhinged.

I set my shoulders back and walked up to her with a smile on her face. She was wearing regular clothing, not the uniform, so I thought she might be in charge.

“Hi, yes. This might sound strange, but I was looking for Aiden. Did he happen to come by today?”

Her sharp gaze turned deadly as she assessed me, and I knew I wasn’t getting any information without proving I was trustworthy. As irritating as it was, I appreciated it. Aiden needed more people protecting him.

“Why are you asking?”

“My name is Max. My son and I have come in every Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday for nearly a year now. Aiden and I struck up a friendship over that time.” She was skeptical, and I understood. After all, if she knew Aiden at all, she’d know he wasn’t prone to being friends with anyone.

I smiled sheepishly. “It took ten months of that year for us to become friendly outside the time it takes him to ring up my coffee, and it’s mostly because of my 6-year-old. You can ask Anna if you want. She’ll vouch for me.”

The woman’s expression gave nothing away. I wondered if she was going to tell me about Aiden, kick me out, or call the cops. All three seemed likely at this point.

“If you’re friends with him, why are you here asking about him and not just calling him?”

I wondered if she was this cagey with all her employees or if she knew something about Aiden’s past. It didn’t take a genius to know he was hiding from something, and I thought she was pretty sure at this point, I was that something.

It was a very valid question, so I pulled out my phone and showed her the messages, realizing afterward that I looked like a stalker with the amount of times I’d called him. I wasn’t helping my case at all. “He’s not answering, and he said he’d be back at my place soon, so now I’m worried. I wasn’t really sure where to start to look for him.”

The woman’s face was still unreadable as she handed me back my phone. “Friendship, huh?”

I was glad I didn’t blush right now. I maintained eye contact, refusing to be embarrassed. There was nothing inappropriate about our exchange.

The whole coffee shop was silent, and I was well aware that everyone was watching our exchange—not just the other baristas, but the customers too. I ignored all of them and focused on the older woman. I kept my posture open and friendly. I wasn’t trying to hide anything.

“All I want to know is if he stopped by here today. If for some reason he doesn’t want to talk to me, you don’t have to give me any information other than if he’s safe.”

That seemed to soften the woman a bit. She sighed deeply. “Aiden hasn’t been here, and I haven’t heard anything from him since his shift.”

Fuck. I was running through everything I could do rapid-fire in my head. My options were insanely limited.

“Name is Margie,” the woman finally told me. “Aiden is one of my best workers. He’s always on time, always willing to take other shifts, doesn’t try to get out of cleaning. I’ve offered him the assistant manager position multiple times, but he always refuses. He uses his father’s illness and school as an excuse, but I know there’s more to it. The boy is scared and has more secrets than the KGB.”

The barista closest to us, who wasn’t even attempting to hide that he was listening, snorted. I shot him a dirty look. This was serious.

I didn’t respond to Margie’s claim. She wasn’t wrong, but if she expected me to be able to enlighten her, she was in for disappointment. I was in the dark as much as she was. Her eyes rolled up to the ceiling and she muttered something in a different language before turning her focus back to me. “I have Aiden’s father’s number. It’s listed as his emergency contact on his employment forms.” I felt instant relief. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

“I’m not supposed to be handing this out, of course, but I don’t know. I feel like I can trust you.”

“Thank you,” I said sincerely. I was sure she was breaking some kind of law by sharing this with me. Margie shook her head, her gray ponytail swaying from side to side. She held up a finger to me, indicating to give her a minute, and then disappeared through a door to the back room.

Margie leaving seemed to break the spell we had on the place, and everyone else went back to their regularly scheduled programming. I kept my eyes glued on the door Margie left through.

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