Page 124 of Until Joy

“She’s all touchy feely with Joy. She hasn’t told you?”

“She mentioned that the chick is a little off. That she tries too hard to make friends.”

July laughed again. “That’s one way to put it. But I guess it’s nice that she sent you flowers.”

“And a teddy bear,” Wes reminded us.

The conversation died as the reality of the other day's events settled back over us like a heavy blanket. My truck. The cut brake lines. The crash that should have killed me.

“So?” I prompted.

“Harlan confirmed it.” Wes's expression turned grim. “Both brake lines were sliced with a sharp blade, probably a box cutter or utility knife. Clean cuts, positioned so they'd start leaking fluid as soon as you started driving.”

“Professional job?”

“Smart enough. Whoever did it had studied up on it, positioned the cuts so they'd start leaking just when you needed the brakes most.”

The implications hit me like another crash. This bastard had been close enough to my truck to sabotage it. Had probably watched me drive away, knowing what would happen. That meant they’d done it when I was at the Wylies’ house. And I was stupid enough to have been going there like clockwork.

Fuck!

“Who's on Joy protection duty right now?” I asked.

Wes looked surprised. “Since Joy's been in your room the whole time, we didn't think we needed anyone specifically assigned.”

Ice flooded my veins. “What do you mean, the whole time?”

“She hasn't left your side since the day before yesterday.”

“Well that’s not true, now is it?” I said sarcastically. “She’s not here now.”

“When did she leave?” Wes asked.

I rubbed the back of my neck. “I’m not sure. I went to sleep after she left.” I fumbled for my phone on the bedside table, my fingers clumsy from the pain medication. I hit Joy's contact, then listened to the ringing with growing dread. It finally went to voicemail.

“Joy's not answering.” I tried again with the same result. “July, try calling her.”

July's fingers flew over her phone screen. We waited in tense silence as it rang and rang before going to voicemail.

“She's probably in the cafeteria holding a tray of food,” July said, but her voice carried doubt. “That's why she can't answer.”

I opened the group text with my brothers and typed rapidly.

GRAHAM: Can't find Joy. She left my room a while ago. Not answering phone. Need eyes on her NOW.

“I'm going to find her.” July was already moving toward the door. “She's probably just in the cafeteria dealing with a long line or something.”

The door swung shut behind her, leaving Wes and me in heavy silence. My phone buzzed with responses from the group.

SETH: At hospital. Haven't seen her.

RANDY: Checking parking garage.

JAX: On it.

Z: Where the hell is she?

Wes read over my shoulder as more messages flooded in.