Path To Realization (Fighter's Den, #4)

Chapter 31 - Aria

PRESENT

Voicemail. Again.

"Shit!" I slam my phone down on my desk, gripping my hair tightly.

Something is wrong here. Something is very, very wrong. It's not just that Asher hasn't answered his phone the last ten times I've called him, although that alone is weird as hell, but I can't shake the awful feeling in my gut. I can't tell if I'm being paranoid or if something is honestly wrong.

I check the time on my phone again. Asher isn't supposed to pick me up for another two hours so he could be busy doing something else but...this isn't like him. I could just be paranoid but I can't shake away what my gut is telling me. I know Asher and I know something is wrong.

My phone buzzes with an incoming call and I audibly gasp, reaching for it like my hand is on fire. Any shred of hope in my heart immediately deflates when I see it's not Asher. Instead, that hope deflated with dread because Greg is calling me. Somewhere in the back of my mind I think I already know what he's calling for and maybe that's why fear holds me back from answering, instead watching the call go on for a few moments.

Shit, shit, shit. Not picking up is not going to change the fact that there's something wrong. Snap out of it, Aria.

Before the call can die out, I quickly press the green button and bring my phone to my ear. It all seems like it's happening in slow-motion, as if the longer I can prolong this the more I can convince myself that everything is okay. That Asher is going to get me when work is done, that we're going to go home together and he'll make love to me in the same bed we slept in together as kids, that he's going to be safe in my arms and tells me he loves me even though he's a man that has trouble loving.

I'm already at the brink of tears when I make myself say in a rather shaky voice, "Hello?"

"Hey, darlin'." Greg sighs tiredly, like he knows the same things I know. My lower lip trembles as he continues. "I can't get a hold of Asher. He was supposed to meet me at my house some time ago and all of his calls are going to voicemail. Have you tried reaching him?"

My gut sinks painfully. Somewhere in the back of my mind I held out hope but Greg's words confirms that there isn't room for any. "I've been trying as well. It's the same for me. Voicemail."

No response. Instead there's a tense silence as both of us breathe heavily, wondering if we should voice what I'm sure we're both assuming at this point. I go first, not wanting to waste another second if Asher really is in danger.

"He's in trouble, isn't he?"

A few seconds stretch out before he speaks. "As much as I want to say we're reading too much into this, in Asher's world, going this long without contact usually means that yes, he's in trouble."

I lick my dry lips and ignoring how fast my heart is beating. "Any guesses?"

"Yeah. It's bad." He clears his throat pointedly and I brace myself for the bad news. At least, as much as I can. "You know how Mitch has been tracking Christian these past couple weeks."

And then my gut is twisting so painfully that I know I'm going to throw up. Because this can't be happening. This absolutely can't be happening.

"No." My voice cracks. "Don't tell me."

He hesitates. "I'm sorry to be doing this darlin'. Mitch hasn't seen Christian in two hours now and he's still trying to locate him."

"Oh, God." A sob escapes me and I smack my hand over my mouth. Just the though of Asher getting hurt, knowing Christian is out for blood...I feel like I'm dying from the inside out. "This can't be happening, Greg."