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“Damn.”
Yeah. My feelings exactly.
“What happened to the folder?” Tyler asks. “Can we see it?”
“Zane has it.”
“Shit.” Dylan’s expression is dark, and I wonder what the hell’s going on with him. I don’t ask, though.
The bad feeling has my stomach churning. Maybe it’s worry. Stress. Something’s got my stomach churning anyway. I’m probably coming down with some virus or other and thinking it’s all in my mind.
Whereas Zane thought what happened to him was true, when it was all in his mind.
I bend over, grimacing.
“Ash.” Tyler reaches for me.
I shrug his hand off and straighten. “I think I’ll take Scott home. He needs to rest.”
And I need to sit alone and have a stiff drink.
Just then, my cell phone rings, and I pull it out of my pocket, thinking it might be Audrey.
It’s not. An unknown woman’s voice says, “Is this Asher?”
Frowning, I reach for Scott who staggers just out of reach. “Yes. Who is that?”
“Oh, you don’t know me. I’m here with a friend of yours. Found him outside my shop, and he passed me his phone to call you. He, uh, he seems a little confused, and he’s a bit bruised, but he’s all right. Zane, he says his name is. Would you come pick him up?”
***
Fuck.
That’s all I can think as I carry Scott to the car and buckle him in. Fuck, fuck, fuck. No wonder my stomach was all knotted.
Because I’m a fucking psychic now, apparently.
Or I was just waiting for something bad to happen, as it usually does when the avalanche starts rolling. No such thing as a mildly bad situation. No, it has to take us to hell and back before we even know what’s going on.
“Ash, wait!” Tyler is jogging after me. “Coming with you.”
I nod and sit behind the wheel, forcing my hands to steady, running the address the woman gave me over the phone over and over in my mind, in case I forget it.
As if I could.
“What the fuck was Zen-man doing near Woodland Park?” Tyler mutters, settling in the passenger seat and closing the door with a slam that makes me wince. “Wasn’t he supposed to be home?”
“Dunno.” I back out of the parking spot and into the street. “Isn’t his therapist’s office in that area?”
“I think Dakota mentioned a street off Waunona Way.”
“That’s by the lake. I know it.”
“Yup.” He’s staring at me, as if waiting for something.
“What?”
“It’s not that far from the Walmart Supercenter.”
