Chapter 7

Bryan groaned when his phone buzzed. He felt like he'd just fallen asleep. Then his brain kicked in and he shot straight up, scrambling for the phone, his heart racing with hope it was Wyatt.

His heart sank. It was just a text notification from one of the stupid game apps. It wanted him to come back and play.

Fuck. He threw the phone down on the bed as he plopped back into the soft, downy mattress. The warmth of the down comforter caressed his skin, but it felt hollow, empty without Wyatt curled up next to him.

Glancing at the time—9:25am--he realized he'd slept later than he'd intended. Of course, he'd been up until three or four worrying about what was going on in Wyatt's head. At least it was Saturday. He'd spent half the night pleading for his phone to ring and the other half cursing Wyatt for being an ass and not calling to at least let him know he was okay. Of course, Wyatt was a grown man and capable of being on his own.

He rubbed his hands over his face, torn with indecision. Should he call again? Go over? Would that seem too pushy? Or should he just continue to wait for Wyatt to come to his senses? He would come to his senses, Bryan was sure of it. He just wasn't sure how long it might take.

He threw the covers off, his neck achy from his tossing and turning. Stretching, he made his way to the shower to wake up. Maybe the hot, steam would soothe away some of the aches.

After he'd tried to distract himself with a leisurely shower, Bryan found himself pacing up and down in front of the granite island of his kitchen, unable to settle down. He'd take a sip of his coffee, pick up his phone, stare at it and put it back down. He had no clue how many times he did that before he realized just how school-girlish he was being. God, he was a grown man. He shouldn't be acting this way when his boyfriend needed some space.

With a heavy sigh, he decided to just go ahead and call. Wyatt would either pick up or ignore him again, either way, at least he'd let Wyatt know he was thinking about him.

He first called Wyatt's cell, which went straight to the automated voicemail. Not surprising, since it had been off all last night.

"Hey, Wyatt, um, just thought I'd check in with you. I'm guessing you need some time or something but just know I'll always be here. If nothing else, please just text me, or even Sarah, ASAP so we know you're okay. Love you."

He didn't realize how hard it would be to leave that message, knowing that Wyatt didn't want to talk to him. He sniffed back his emotions before calling Wyatt's apartment phone. It just rang several times before the answering service picked up. He left another message, with little hope of hearing back soon.

Maybe Sarah had heard from him. Wyatt would contact her at least, wouldn't he? But wouldn't Sarah have at least texted him to let him know Wyatt was fine?

God, he was going crazy with what-ifs and why hasn't he's?

With a growl of frustration, he whipped up his phone and called Sarah.

"Hey, Bryan. Heard from Wyatt? How is he?"

Fuck. "I was going to ask you the same thing," he admitted.

She was quiet for a few moments. "He really hasn't come home?"

"Well, I'm not at his apartment, but he hasn't called or texted. And I just called both his cell and home phone again and no answer."

"Well, shit," Sarah breathed, sounding just as irritated as he did. "When did someone last see him?"

Bryan's breath caught in his throat. What was she--? Did she think something might have--? Oh, fuck, no. No. No.

"Bryan?"

"Uh, yeah," he recovered his voice. He swallowed. "You don't think something might have happened to him, do you?"

"Oh, well, no, not really," she hedged, but Bryan could tell the thought had occurred to her. "I'm sure he's fine. We just need to track him down. I'm sure he probably went to the park and people watched, maybe even did some reading. You said you haven't checked his apartment this morning yet, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, maybe he's just curled up all nice and warm in bed sleeping in and ignoring his phone," she said hopefully.

Bryan had to admit that was possible. "I guess. I just really thought he'd at least have the courtesy to let us know he was fine."

"I know. He should know better, and we'll both give him hell for being an idiot and worrying us."

Bryan grabbed his keys and wallet. "I'm heading over there now. I'll let you know."

"No, I'll meet you there," Sarah stated. Bryan could hear the concern in her voice. "I've got quite a few words to say to him."

Bryan chuckled. "Okay, see you soon."

Damn it, if Wyatt was just ignoring his phones still... Bryan wasn't sure what he'd do. He'd probably explode; he was close to that now. But if he wasn't...

A horrible niggling feeling gnawed at the pit of his stomach. "Wyatt, you better fucking be in that bed."

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He wasn't.

It didn't look like he'd ever come back to the apartment. Bryan started to feel nauseous. His brain refused to put words yet to the foreboding his subconscious already knew.

He raked his hand through his thick hair again, glancing around the room again for clues to where Wyatt had gone. Wyatt had to just be--

"Wyatt?" a female voice called from the door.

Bryan emerged from the bedroom to see Sarah standing anxiously in the open doorway. Bryan had left it open in his fury to throw Wyatt out of his damn bed for causing him so much worry. But he hadn't been there.

Sarah's hopeful expression fell when she saw him. He just shook his head to her silent question. Sarah had obviously been worrying as well. He noticed she hadn't even put any makeup on before running over, apparently just throwing on some jeans and a sweatshirt and tying her auburn locks in a ponytail.

Bryan could feel himself ready to fall apart. He had no idea what to do at the moment, he was so overwhelmed with fear now.

"He's not here," he finally voiced the obvious.

Sarah apparently sensed his eminent breakdown and straightened with a determined huff. She obviously knew that if she lost it, he would too. She blinked rapidly, turning as she tried to keep him from seeing the worry in her chocolate eyes.

"Okay," she breathed. "Okay, so he has to be somewhere, right? We'll call the hospitals and police, see if they know anything."

Bryan nodded mutely, unable to snap himself from the abrupt image that Wyatt had been mugged and killed or something, and was lying dead in some alley or in a morgue waiting to be identified, his bloody body just lying there while Bryan had been sleeping curled up in his warm bed—

"Oh, fuck," he gagged before racing for the bathroom.

"Bryan!"

He heard her call after him, but his only focus was making it to the toilet before the contents of what little he'd had for breakfast made a reappearance.

When he finished emptying his stomach, he sagged against the toilet, unable to stop the tears now. God, he'd been so stupid. Thinking Wyatt was ignoring him when he'd been—

A rag and a cup of water appeared in his peripheral vision. He took them from Sarah gratefully as she sank down next to him, rubbing his back sympathetically.

After cleaning up, he sat back against the bathroom wall. He still felt the guilt gnawing at his insides, the pain in his chest threatening to explode.

"Bryan," Sarah whispered softly, "it's okay. I know what you're thinking. I've thought it too. But there are so many other things that could have happened, simple things—like he... like one of those kids talked him into skateboarding and he just broke a leg or something."

Bryan looked at her in shock, the small amused twitch on her lips breaking a bark of laughter from him. She grinned at having pulled him from his foreboding thoughts.

"Skateboarding? Really?"

Sarah shrugged. "You never know. Maybe he's waiting for us at the hospital right now."

"But wouldn't he have called?"

"Maybe they took his phone when they cut his pants off," she smiled, obviously trying desperately to drag him from his morbid thoughts.

Bryan felt a bit of the tension slip out of him. He was probably jumping the gun, thinking the worst. Sarah was right. They needed to exhaust all possibilities before—

Before...

He couldn't think of that again. Imagining Wyatt's beautiful amber eyes lifeless, his sun-kissed skin pale and cold... shit. He swallowed thickly as his stomach roiled again. No, no, he had to focus.

Wyatt might need him. He couldn't let himself dwell right now on the possibility of never seeing the man he loved again. Sarah was right. There could be plenty of other explanations for why Wyatt hadn't been answering his phone.

"Come on," Sarah said, her voice upbeat and chipper as she patted his leg and rose. Bryan didn't know how she could be so calm about Wyatt's disappearance when he'd been falling apart, but he was thankful for her resolve. He latched onto her faith and hope, allowing her to pull him up.

Bryan drew in a deep breath, trying to infuse his voice with new resolve that he didn't really feel. "Let's go find Wyatt."

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They had decided that they would call around to the area hospitals first as it seemed most likely (and hopeful) that Wyatt had maybe been in an accident and was taken there.

However, with each phone call and long wait, they were increasingly losing faith. They'd called all the hospitals and clinics within fifty miles to no avail and had started on hotels. That was taking much longer, especially as some refused to even divulge names of their patrons.

It was late afternoon before they finally gave up.

Bryan stared at the phone in front of him, not knowing what else to do. The next step seemed like it was admitting Wyatt could really be gone. Calling the police and asking... asking if they had any... reports of—

Fuck. He just didn't want to think about it again.

He felt a warm hand slide over his, squeezing gently. "I'll make the call if you want," Sarah offered.

Bryan shook his head. No, no, the least he could do for Wyatt is to hear it for himself. "I'll do it. Just give me a minute."

He picked up the phone, turned it over in his hands several times. He knew he was silently willing it to ring with Wyatt's voice telling him he was sorry, that he'd lost his phone, or something equally inane, as he'd been doing all day. Of course, it never did. It was another minute before he finally drew up the courage to dial.

"Granger County Police. How may I help you?"

"Um, yeah, hi," Bryan floundered now that he was actually on the phone with the police. "I was wondering if you could tell me if there were any accidents or... reports about Wyatt Kinnon." He rushed on before he lost his nerve. "He's twenty-six, dirty blond hair—"

"Sir—"

"He never came home, and I wondered if he'd been in an accident or something—"

"Sir, sir," the woman's voice interrupted his rambling. When he stopped, she continued. "I'm sorry, but I can't divulge that information over the phone, sir."

"But he's been missing since—"

"I understand your concern, sir. I really do. But I'm sure you understand that there are privacy issues to take into consideration. If you'd like to file a missing person's report, you can come down to the station or we can have an officer sent out. However, we can't take a report for a missing adult until they've been missing for 48 hours."

"Forty-eight hours? That's a whole other day. What if he's hurt or... something?" Bryan exclaimed, unable to keep the anger from tingeing his voice.

The woman sighed. While she seemed to understand his worry, he knew there really wasn't anything she could do. "I can take your name and number and make a note that you called, sir."

Bryan deflated, but there really wasn't much else the police would do until tomorrow at least. "Fine, yes, please. I'm Bryan Foxgrove, Wyatt Kinnon's fiancé," he said, leaving his phone number as well. "Thank you for your time."

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry there isn't more we can do right now."

"I understand. Thank you." Bryan hung up, feeling even more lost. His body buzzed with the need to do something, but until tomorrow, he didn't know what else he could do.

"The police can't do anything until he's been gone for two days," Bryan told Sarah, who was nodding. She'd obviously heard everything. "Two fucking days. Anything could have happened—"

"Bryan." Sarah's sharp tone stopped his ranting before he railroaded himself down the path of horror again. "Look, just because the police can't do anything, doesn't mean we can't keep looking. Okay?"

"But where?"

"Well, I say we start with the park. If he went there after leaving your mom's then someone probably saw him, and maybe knows where he went," Sarah reasoned.

Bryan abruptly gathered the petite woman in his arms. She was only a little smaller than Wyatt. He held onto her tightly, burying his face in her neck, whispering against her ear. "Thank you. I don't know what I would have done today without you."

"Hey, it's okay," she whispered back, her voice cracking a bit as well. She was so much stronger than he was right now. Sarah Demchik was his rock, if he didn't have her right now, he knew he'd be a useless mess.