Only Ever Yours, page 17
With trembling hands, I call Noah, and thankfully he picks up. “Where are you?” I rush out.
“At home.”
“There’s a fire at the marina. I think it’s coming from the parking garage. I can’t get ahold of Isaac. He left a little while ago. It looks like it’s spreading to the main building.”
“Is the fire department on their way?”
“I don’t hear anybody…” The last time the warehouse caught on fire, they came immediately. “Should I call them?” I had assumed they would get the message from the alarm going off and show up like they did last time.
“Yeah, I’m on my way.”
“Do you know where Isaac is?” I ask, starting to panic as the flames grow higher, the heat intensifying. I’m standing several feet away from the garage, but I can feel the heat from here. Even if I wanted to go check it out, I would be burned trying to get past the flames.
“No, call the fire department.” He hangs up and I call, explaining what’s happened the best I can, since I don’t really even know what’s happened, and they assure me they’re sending trucks right away.
A few minutes later, they arrive, and I still can’t get ahold of Isaac. My nerves are on edge and tears of frustration are leaking from my lids. Noah shows up shortly after and stays with me while we watch the fire department put the fire out.
I try Isaac over and over again, but he doesn’t answer. It just goes straight to his voicemail every single time.
“He said he had something to take care of,” I tell Noah. “Do you know where he was going?”
He glances up from his phone. “According to the security company, a fire alarm in Chester Creek Commons went off. False alarm. He must’ve gone to check it out.”
“Then where the hell is he?” I hiss, my eyes going to the firefighters who are still working on containing and putting out the fire.
When the police arrive, they disappear behind the parking garage and a few minutes later, several all black vehicles arrive. I still can’t get ahold of Isaac and nobody will tell us anything. Noah holds me while I cry, scared and assuming the worst, while praying Isaac is far away and his phone is just dead. But something in me, the deep, dark part of me, has a horrible feeling.
“Are you the person who called nine-one-one?” a police officer asks when he walks over what feels like hours later.
“I am. I’m Camilla Hutchinson.” His eyes quickly go wide, revealing he recognizes my name, but I ignore it, not giving a shit about what he thinks of me or my family’s name. “And this is Noah Reynolds. I live in the building and he works with my fiancé, Isaac Petrosian, here.”
The officer nods. “We’re still trying to piece together what happened, but the explosion was so strong it cracked the infrastructure, and the heat seeped inside. We don’t know what damage has been done, but you won’t be able to go inside until it’s checked out.”
“What happened?” I ask, my voice shaky.
“From what forensics is gathering, a bomb went off. It was most likely attached to a vehicle, and because it was in an enclosed area, after it went off, the heat of the car on fire caused an additional explosion. I’m not sure how many vehicles were down there, but they’re all totaled. Do you know anyone who would want to blow up your parking garage?”
His words cause a shiver to race up my spine, and before he can stop me, I’m running to the parking garage. It’s no longer on fire, but it’s stifling hot and, because of the debris, it’s hard to breathe.
“Ma’am, this is a crime scene,” one of the men says when he spots me standing on the edge of the garage.
“How many vehicles are in there?” I ask, doing the math in my head. Isaac has a truck, two sports cars, and then there’s my SUV. Noah wasn’t visiting, so his vehicle is parked down the street, and the employees would’ve already left for the day, since it’s well after five o’clock. That’s…
“Four total,” he says, and my heart stutters in my chest.
No. No. No. This can’t be right. “Count again!” I bark out, stomping on the bits and pieces of glass and metal. Luckily, I had the foresight to put on flip-flops before I left the condo.
“Ma’am, you can’t be in here. This is a crime scene and the area is under investigation.”
“I don’t care!” I yell, sprinting toward the wreckage. The area is black and covered in ash and smells like gasoline mixed with fire. The vehicles are all melted and damaged and you can barely make out which is which, but they’re in their assigned spots.
“Which vehicle was blown up?” I ask, even though I already know. The truck. It’s the least recognizable. Nothing more than white-covered rubbish.
When he points to the area, I drop to my knees, but before I hit the ground, someone catches me. Tears of emotion fill my lids and my head spins. I hear people talking, but I can’t make out what they’re saying. My heart is pounding behind my ribcage and my body feels as though it’s having an out of world experience. My senses are all blurred. I can’t hear, I can’t see. I’m numb. It’s hard to breathe.
I gasp for air, trying to fill my lungs with oxygen. But it’s not working. I think someone is murmuring something into my ear, but my head and ears are now ringing. My hand wraps around my throat as I gasp for air. But it’s too late. I’m too far gone.
And the world around me goes black.
* * *
I pry my eyes open and my temples throb. I glance around, and for a second, I forget what’s happened. I’m confused, unsure where I am. Unlike the view of the marina from my bedroom window, there are trees and shrubbery. I take in the beige walls instead of the gray and the cream sheets instead of our silver and white ones. When I roll over, I find Noah sitting in a chair looking at me, and it all comes back to me. The explosion. Isaac not answering his phone. The police saying it’s a crime scene.
“Where are we?” I croak out, locking eyes with Noah.
“My house.” He brings me over a bottle of water. I accept it and drink it all, the cold water feeling good as it runs down my parched throat.
“Have you heard from Isaac?” I ask once I’ve finished the bottle and set it on the nightstand.
“No. Listen, Camilla…” His eyes fill with sympathy and I look away, not wanting to see it.
I snatch my phone from the nightstand and swipe up, checking for any missed calls or messages from Isaac, but there’s nothing. Only a string of them from Yasmin demanding I call her back. News of the explosion and fire must’ve gotten out.
“He’s alive.” I pull the covers off me and swing my legs over the side of the bed. The room feels slightly dizzy, so I close my eyes, giving my head and body a chance to catch up with each other. This started a couple weeks ago, so I know it’s not because of my panic attack last night.
“Did you not see the aftermath from the explosion? Nobody could’ve survived that.” His voice is soft, bleeding sympathy, and I hate it because I don’t need him to feel sorry for me. “His truck was there, along with all his vehicles. Unless he walked wherever he was going…”
“Maybe he did!”
“Then where is he now?”
“I don’t know, but I’m going to find him.” I jut my chin out in defiance, and he sighs, shaking his head.
Like a woman on a mission, I quickly use the restroom, ignoring the queasiness in my stomach, slip on my flip-flops, then head out of the room and down the hall, taking note of the rustic feel Noah’s house has. It’s more like a cabin, all wood beams and walls, brown leather sofas and different colored wood furniture. When I get outside, I glance around and see nothing but lush greenery for what looks like miles every which way. His home is in the middle of the woods, and it hits me, how the hell am I getting anywhere?
“Where are we going?” he asks, twirling his keys around his finger.
“We?” I’m going to need him to give me a ride, since I have no purse or money and my car is permanently out of commission, but from the way he sounds, he’s already confirmed Isaac’s dead and has attended the funeral, which makes me wonder…
“Why aren’t you more upset?”
“Excuse me?” He raises a single brow.
“Isaac is like a brother to you, and you think he’s dead, so why aren’t you more upset?”
His jaw ticks, and his eyes dart away from me, ignoring my question by asking one of his own. “Do you want a ride or not?”
“Do you believe he’s alive?” I push. “Is that why you’re not crying?” It’s why I’m not crying. Because I know Isaac is alive. I just have to find him.
Once again he ignores my questions, stalking toward his car and opening the door for me. I get in and he rounds the front, sliding in. His muscle car is loud and growly and I welcome it. The ride to town takes about twenty minutes, most of the road deserted.
When he arrives at a shopping plaza, I look at him confused. “This is Chester Creek Commons,” he explains. “He was supposed to come here to check out the fire alarm that went off, but he never showed up.”
I swing open the door and start walking in one direction, my eyes darting around like I’m looking for a missing dog or child. The farther I walk, finding nothing but shoppers, talking and laughing, ignorantly going through life, the more worked up I get.
I don’t see him anywhere, not sitting on the benches, not walking down the sidewalks… He’s not here. I know he’s not because if he were, he would be with me.
“Maybe he’s hurt,” I blurt out. “The docks, his yacht, is the closest thing to the building. Let’s go there. Maybe he’s hurt and doesn’t have his phone and needs help.”
Noah nods wordlessly.
His yacht is empty. The warehouse, the parking garage, every other boat that’s docked are all empty. When I try to open the door to the building, Noah stops me. “It’s locked. The damage is too bad. The heat destroyed everything. The office, the condo, the destruction the fire caused is beyond repair.
“What?” I tug on the door, needing to get inside, but it doesn’t budge. “What about our things? Our clothes? What if Isaac is in there?” I scream, losing my cool.
“They checked everywhere and confirmed it’s empty.”
“This can’t be right!” I glance around, unsure where to go, where to look. “He has to be somewhere,” I cry, tears filling my lids. “He can’t just be gone!” A gut-wrenching sob tears through my chest, making it hard to catch my breath. “He has to be somewhere!” I repeat. “Isaac!” I yell, banging on the mirrored glass door. “Isaac!”
When nobody answers, I twirl around. “Where is he?” I demand as tears gush down my cheeks. “Noah…”
I stumble forward, having no clue where to go, what to do. My heart is straining to the point that it feels like I’m having a heart attack. Noah catches me, pulls me into his arms, and holds me tight as my grief pours out in a flood of uncontrolled tears. I cry in his arms, begging for God to take me. I can’t imagine a world without Isaac in it. How is this fair? We only just got started. We were supposed to have more time together. Get married, have babies.
I think about the last time we spoke, when he told me he loved me before he walked out the door. My cries get harder. We’ve only written one chapter, maybe two… It’s not time for it to end yet.
At some point, Noah and I end up on the floor in front of the building, with me in his lap while I sob into his chest, cursing the world and God and everything in between.
When it feels as though I’ve cried myself sick, Noah picks me up and carries me to his car, depositing me in the front seat. I barely recall him putting my seat belt on and driving me back to his place. He must carry me into his house and lay me in his bed, and I must pass out at some point because the next thing I know, I’m waking up in his bed again, staring out at the trees. I’m checking my phone and finding nothing from Isaac again. It’s like the worst case of Groundhog Day imaginable.
Only this time I don’t bother asking Noah if he’s heard from him, because I know he hasn’t. Because there’s no way if Isaac were alive, he wouldn’t be right here, holding me and telling me how much he loves me. Which means only one thing… Isaac is dead. I’ve lost him forever.
With that realization, my stomach roils and I jump out of bed, running to the bathroom to spill the entire contents of my stomach into the toilet. I hear footsteps and then a cool washcloth is placed on the back of my neck. Noah doesn’t say anything, just stays behind me while I empty my stomach over and over again, until there’s nothing left.
Then he turns the shower on for me, places a towel on top of the sink, and leaves me alone so I can rinse off. The shower is lonely without Isaac, so I wash my hair and body quickly, then get out. I find a shirt and sweats—most likely Noah’s—on the counter, and I put them on. I towel dry my hair and then pad back to the bed, pulling the sheets over me and closing my eyes.
Maybe tomorrow when I wake up this will all be a horrible dream.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CAMILLA
“We have to talk.”
“I’m sleeping,” I mutter from under the sheets. Between the queasiness and my heart feeling as though it’s been yanked out of my chest cavity, thrown onto the ground, and stomped on repeatedly, I haven’t had the energy to move from the bed unless necessary. Noah’s been really sweet, bringing me my meals several times a day, forcing me to shower, and holding my hair back when I actually eat and a little while later end up hugging the porcelain bowl.
“I spoke to Frank and he’s organized the funeral for the day after tomorrow.”
This gets my attention. I throw the blanket off me and sit up. “Excuse me? I don’t think I heard you correctly because it sounded like you said Frank, Isaac’s attorney, is planning a funeral for my fiancé, and that can’t be right since he’s not dead.”
“Cam…”
“No, there’s no proof he’s dead. There’s no body.”
“You know why… The police said—”
“I don’t give a fuck what the police said!” I bark, climbing out of bed. My stomach roils, and I close my eyes, willing myself not to upchuck right now. “I can feel it in here.” I stab myself in the chest. “He’s alive.”
“Then why hasn’t he shown his face?”
“Maybe he’s in trouble. What if he was taken?” And then a thought occurs to me. One I haven’t thought of before. “I need to go somewhere.” I throw my drawers open, where the few outfits Noah purchased for me since I have no clothes, reside, and change out of my pajamas, not caring that I’m in my bra and underwear in front of him. Once I’m dressed, I throw on a pair of Chucks he also bought me and grab my phone. When I check to see if there are any messages or missed calls, I notice it says no service.
Weird.
I try to dial out, but nothing happens. When I try to send a text message, it pops up as unsent.
“What’s wrong?” Noah asks.
“My phone doesn’t work. I don’t get it. The bill…” And then it hits me. The bill was in Isaac’s name. I drop onto the bed, a fresh wave of emotion hitting me like a tidal wave. “It’s on Isaac’s account.”
“Everything in Isaac’s name has been frozen or cancelled because he’s been declared dead.” Noah takes the phone from me. “I’ll get it taken care of.”
“I don’t have any money,” I whisper as hot liquid slides down my cheeks.
“Hey,” he says softly, kneeling in front of me. “If you let me, I’d like to be here for you.”
I’m already shaking my head. It was one thing for Isaac to take care of me. He was my other half, my soul mate. It’s the only reason I allowed myself to be vulnerable to him. I knew he wasn’t doing it out of pity, it was out of love. “I’ll figure it out. I’m not your responsibility.”
“No, but Isaac was my friend, and he loved you. And whether you like it or not, I’m in a position to help.” He takes my hand in his and I want to shove it away, but I don’t want to offend him, so instead I leave it be. “Camilla, have you thought about why you’ve been throwing up?”
His question has my mangled heart picking up speed because I have thought about it, but I didn’t want to admit it to myself. “I can’t go there right now,” I tell him, taking my hand back and standing. “I need to find someone.”
His brows furrow. “Who?”
“James.”
“Pruitt?”
“Yeah. The last time I saw him, he was threatening Isaac. What if he’s the reason Isaac has disappeared? Maybe he has him somewhere. It would make sense. He wanted him to pay.”
Noah sighs, clearly not agreeing, but I don’t care. I refuse to believe Isaac is dead. It might sound crazy, but I feel like if he were, I would feel it. When my mom died, I felt it, like she took a piece of my heart with her when she left this earth. Isaac and me… our hearts and souls are connected on a deeper level and if he were gone, I’d feel it, like a piece of me left with him.
“All right,” he finally says, giving in. “We’ll go pay James and Clint a visit, but you have to promise me something.”
“What?”
“If we don’t find him… if there isn’t any proof of foul play, you need to start the process of accepting that Isaac is gone.”
I’ll never accept it, but I nod anyway, since it’s what he needs from me.
“Say the words.”
“I’ll accept… that he’s gone.”
It’s Saturday and highly unlikely James is in the office, so I have Noah take me straight to James’s house since he won’t be expecting me.
When we pull up to the gate, since I know the code, having lived in the same community before my dad went to prison and lost our house, I type it in and the gate opens.
“Park around the corner,” I instruct. “I don’t want him knowing I’m here.”
Noah arches a brow. “You don’t honestly think he’s keeping Isaac here, in this house, do you?”
“Got a better idea?”
“If he’s holding him, it would be somewhere people wouldn’t look, like at a warehouse. Not in broad daylight, in a neighborhood in the suburbs.”
