Rory: If you're interested, Hudson, Greyson, and I are heading to Lucky's. Callum's in New York, and Jace and Tallulah have something going on, so it would be only us guys.

It's been a couple of weeks since I've been out, except a few nights ago when I spent a few hours with Sloane.

I'm not sure if I should go out and have a drink with the guys or stay home and continue figuring out what to do with the girl who returned to my life broken as fuck.

After she broke down at the park, I wasn't sure what to do other than hold and comfort her—something I was entirely unprepared for.

She hasn't spoken to me since.

I've tried calling her to see if she was okay, but she never answered.

I've even tried sending her messages, but she has not responded. I even stopped by her house, but she never answered her door.

So, I don't know what the fuck to do other than wait to see if she'll call, message, or stop by my work.

I know she's read my text messages since it shows they've been read. So I don't know what to think, but I hope she's okay because the last message I sent was a couple of days ago.

I thought about sending her another message but figured, what's the point if she wasn't answering my other ones? So, I didn't, hoping she'd finally see I meant what I said, that she can trust me, and that I'm willing to give a friendship with her another chance.

Maybe I should take Rory's offer to meet the guys at the bar since he's in town this weekend and give Sloane time to get back to me.

But I can't say I'm not worried about her because I am. She was a complete mess the night I dropped her off.

Fuck it.

It looks like I'm going out.

Me: Sure, I'll see you guys in a bit.

***

"Crown Royal, double, please," I ordered from the bartender, then after seeing my friends were getting low, I added, "And a round for my friends over there."

"You got it, Aaron," Vanessa said with a grin that always had me smiling in return. Because who wouldn't smile at her? She was beautiful, kind, and sweet, but also spoken for. "Did you need a tray to carry these?" she asked as she lined up our drinks.

"Nah. I've got it. Thanks, anyway, beautiful," I said, sliding Vanessa cash for the drinks and a ten spot for her service.

"You're welcome."

I carefully gathered the drinks, walked them over to the table, and as I handed them out, I said, "So, no wives tonight. What's the occasion?"

"Isabelle's with Eloise, keeping an eye on her since Callum is out of town. And Amanda and Shelby are having a girls' night out. So, I figured we'd have a guys' night since we hardly ever do that anymore," Rory responded. "Even though two of them are missing."

"I'm surprised Elosie allowed Callum to leave the state knowing she could go into labor any day now," I said, sipping my whiskey.

"Although it doesn't mean anything since babies come whenever they feel like it, but Eloise has like three more weeks to go until the kid pops out," Greyson said, "and it was an event Callum couldn't miss." He swirled his scotch around his glass, asking, "So, how've you been?"

I shrugged, "All right, I guess."

"Hopefully, it's better than the last time we saw you," Hudson said.

Now I know why they wanted me to meet them tonight. This night is about me—again... They want to know how things are going with Sloane since I asked their opinion about their thoughts on giving her a second chance at our friendship.

Greyson chuckled. "I think he's doing better—much better. Ever since the horndog entered the joint, not once has his eyes wandered the room, looking to see who he could bring home for the night."

They haven't?

I thought about it for a second and realized—he was right. And the more I think of it, they haven't since the night of the threesome with Trent—like three or four weeks ago, however long it's been.

"I haven't been in the mood. And for the record, I never bring those women home—they bring me home."

The guys looked at each other, surprised, and then Rory looked at me with a massive grin on his face. "Does this have anything to do with that beautiful, curvy, long-haired brunette you used to run around with?"

I said nothing because I couldn't answer that. All because I haven't been the same since that dang threesome.

Trent figured it would help me return to how I was before, but it didn't.

What it did do was make me realize I couldn't do that kind of shit anymore.

Then, after running into Sloane, it made things worse—or better—for my grandmother's sake. Because it had me thinking harder that being single for the rest of my life and finding hot bar sluts to fuck every chance I got wasn't the lifestyle I wanted.

My heart, or something inside me, was telling me I wanted more than that—that I wanted what my friends had—a woman to wake up to every morning, the same woman.

And I've been trying to figure out if that's what I want or if my mind is telling me that's what I want because that's what my grandmother wants me to have.

"It is, isn't it?" Rory pushed, grinning.

Staring at my whiskey and holding it up, I said, "I have no idea. I've had a lot on my mind lately, and everything I ask myself, I can't answer. My mind tells me I want one thing, but my heart tells me differently."

"Have you talked with Sloane since you last told us she stopped at your work?" Hudson wondered.

"Just that night. That's it."

"Did it not go well?" Rory asked.

"Yes and no."

"What do you mean?" Asked Greyson, a curious look in his eye.

Since these guys know women and how they've never been like Callum and me, maybe they're the ones I should talk to for advice.

Because I sure as fuck don't know what to do or think.

And I can't ask my sisters or grandma. This is a guy thing.

"Well, I ended up picking her up that night. We talked for a bit. I told her I was willing to give her a second chance, and she seemed cool with that—thrilled, actually. We talked some more, and then she broke down, and no matter what I said or did, I couldn't get her to stop crying. So, she had me bring her home and then asked that I go. I tried telling her to let me stay to ensure she'd be okay, but she denied that. So I don't fucking know. I know nothing about women other than their anatomies."

I finished my drink, then stared at the empty glass after setting it down, wondering again what I said that upset her. But I couldn't think of anything I may have said that would've caused her to cry the way she did.

Rory furrowed his brows. "What did you say that got her that way?"

I shrugged. "Fuck if I know. Sloane mentioned something that she lost her family. I asked if she was talking about her parents and if I could help her get through that since it's something I went through, and she said it wasn't them, that it was someone else. She named three people I never heard of and claimed they were her world. Instead of her leaving them, they left her. So I don't know."

"Family could mean anyone. Did she mean her husband? Boyfriend? Cousin's? Kids? Aunt? Uncle...?" Greyson asked, naming everyone who could be family.

I shook my head. "No idea. She never said. And since then, I've called, texted her, and gone to her house, but got nothing from her. No answer, message, or sign of life at her home." I shrugged. "Beats me."

"Maybe call the cops and ask to do a welfare check on her," Hudson suggested.

"I thought about that. But I didn't want to upset her if she was okay. She seems pretty fragile right now."

"I know you probably don't want to do this, but maybe you should talk to Shayla and see what she says and suggests. You know, this is her area of expertise," Rory hinted, as if I hadn't already thought about that.

The thing is, I just don't want to involve my sister in her business. Or mine, since she knows how crazy I was about Sloane and how much I despised her after she shredded me like she was Freddy Krueger.

"I'd prefer to keep Shayla out of this."

"What's her address? If you want, I can check on her tomorrow," Hudson offered.

I thought about it, but again, I didn't want to piss her off by sending my friends to do the dirty work for me to see if she was okay.

That's something I can do.

"Don't worry about it. I'll figure out something. I just hope she's okay. She mentioned something to me a couple of times that's a bit disturbing."

Rory's brows pinched together. "Like what?"

I better not say what that was. I don't know if that's something she'd want anyone to know—it's rather personal, but in a way, it's not. It's almost like she's crying for help—my help.

"I'm not so sure I should say since it's personal. At least that's what I think it was." I frustratedly and worriedly ran my fingers through my hair. "I don't fucking know."

"Disturbing..." Hudson repeated, looking like he was trying to figure it out as he waved the waitress over. "Another round for us," he told her. Then he looked at me, cocking his head to the side as he thought about my comment. Finally, he asked, "Do you mean like suicide disturbing?"

Feeling uncomfortable, I dragged my hand down my face. "Sure, something like that," I said finally.

"If you rekindled your friendship with her and you don't want to lose it again, I suggest instead of sitting here, having a drink with us, you should be at her house, banging on the door until she lets you inside," Rory said, immediately causing my nerves to do strange things.

"Or bust it down," Greyson suggested. "That's what I'd do."

Shit...

Sweatshirts. Long sleeves. Hats. Crying. Begging for forgiveness...

They're right. I need to check on her. Now...

I stood quickly, throwing cash in the center of the table to cover their drinks. "I've gotta go."

***

How do you go from never wanting to see someone again, despising them, to worrying about them and their well-being with a snap of a finger?

Because that's where I'm at. And I'm freaking the fuck out. Sloane's lights are on, but she isn't answering the door or her phone.

I kept pounding on her door, shouting, "Sloane! It's me! Answer the door! Please!"

When she still didn't answer, I wandered to the front window, pressed my hands to it, and tried looking through the crack of her curtains—looking left to right, up and down, hoping to see something.

With my eye still looking through the crack, I lifted my phone, pressed call, and brought it to my ear, hoping to see life, a shadow, something move, but saw nothing.

She also didn't answer, so I wandered around her home until I found another window. When I saw nothing but closed curtains, I walked until I found another one and got the same thing.

What the fuck, Sloane. You better not have done anything stupid...

I found another window with a better opening, so I pounded on it as I looked through, hoping and praying to see something, but again, there was nothing.

Fuck. I don't want to break a window or bust down a door, but if that's what it'll take to get me inside to ensure she's okay, I just might have to do it and replace what I broke.

After checking every window, I returned to the front window and banged on it again, yelling, "Sloane, if you don't open the door, I'm going to bust it down or break this window! Your choice!"

A car driving slowly past Sloane's house caught my attention, so I watched to see where it was going, and when I saw it pull into the driveway next door, I rushed over to them.

"I'm sorry to bother you guys, but I'm trying to get a hold of your neighbor, my best friend, Sloane. Have you seen her around at all this week? I'm worried about her. She isn't answering my phone calls, text messages, or her door."

The guy looked at the girl in the passenger seat, asking, "Have you seen her at all?"

She shook her head. "I haven't seen her. But she also hardly leaves the house."

The guy looked at me. "I haven't seen her since you picked her up in that Mustang. That was you, wasn't it? Because I've never seen anyone else over there since she's moved in."

I nodded. "It was me."

"That was the first time I ever seen anyone over there, to be honest. Have you known her long?"

Yes. No. Kind of... it's complicated.

"We went to high school together," I answered the best I could. They didn't need to know anything else. "Okay, well, thank you for your time. I'll keep trying to get a hold of her."

I looked behind me at her house and thought about what I could do, and then I returned my eyes to him. "You wouldn't happen to have a ladder I can borrow, do you?"

He gave me a suspicious look. So I reached into my back pocket, removed my wallet, dug through it, and gave him my card.

"Here's my business card. But I could really use a ladder to make sure Sloane was okay. She wasn't in her right mind when I dropped her off the other night, and I'm extremely worried about her."

"Gary, let him use our ladder. He does look worried sick about her," the woman urged the guy.

"Please. She's battling depression, and I need to make sure she hasn't harmed herself. Please," I begged the skeptical-looking guy.

I had no idea if Sloane was battling depression. But all the signs are there. And if that's what she's going through, I hope I can stop her before it's too late.

He nodded. "Give me a minute. I'll be over there with the ladder."

Relief instantly rushed through me. "Thank you."

As I waited for the neighbor to bring me his ladder, I tried getting a hold of Sloane again, and when she didn't answer, I sent her a message.

Me: Sloane, open the door for me, please. If you don't, you're leaving me no choice but to break in. And I really don't want to break a window if you're home and capable of opening the door for me.

I stared at my phone, waiting for the message to show it was read.

My stomach twisted and turned the longer I stared, waiting for my message to be read.

Hearing clinking sounds, I looked away from my phone and over at the guy carrying a ladder over to me.

"Has she responded to you yet?"

I shook my head. "No."

"Are you sure she's home?"

"No. But I'm not going to take any chances."

I looked at my phone, saw my message still showed delivered and not read, and decided to try one last time to get her to respond.

Me: I'm seconds away from breaking a window. Please respond, letting me know you're okay so I don't have to break into your home.

"Are you sure you haven't seen any activities here since the night you saw me with her?"

"She's like a hermit. Like I said, since she's moved in, you're the first person I've seen visit her. She hardly ever goes anywhere, and there's always packages and groceries being delivered."

My messages still showed delivered, so I took the ladder from the guy and walked it around to the back of Sloane's house. If I were going to break one of her windows, I didn't want anyone seeing from the street her home was open for a free-for-all to access her home.

The guy followed me around back. "Once I get inside, I won't need your ladder anymore."

"Would you like me to stay in case you need any help?"

"No. I should be able to handle the situation."

I hope...

I positioned the ladder where I wanted it, climbed up it, and when I got to the window, I removed my shirt, wrapped it around my hand, and repeatedly swung my fist into the window until it shattered.

"Sloane!" I called out as I climbed through the broken window, trying not to cut myself.

I frantically wandered through her home and looked in every room, upstairs and downstairs. When I got to the kitchen, I saw her phone on the counter, plugged into the outlet.

I ran my fingers through my hair, spinning on my heel, looking and thinking while muttering, "Where are you, Sloane?"

Then, I noticed a picture on her refrigerator and headed over to look at it. It was a photo of two little kids on a sandy beach with the ocean behind them. A little girl hugging a little boy, both smiling widely.

I instantly wondered if these were who Sloane was talking about the other day. So, I removed the picture and flipped it around. The photo was dated two years ago, but no names were written on it.

I remembered her mentioning three names, not two, so I hung it back on the fridge and then returned to the counter to look at her phone.

I didn't want to snoop through something personal of hers, but at this point, it was something I needed to do to see if I could find anything to help me find her.

Thankfully, she didn't have a password to access her phone. I checked her recent calls, outgoing and incoming.

The only outgoing call was to her mother—two days ago. All incoming calls were from me, except one, her mother, which showed she answered yesterday.

Then I clicked on her messages. The only history showing was me, her mother and father, and nobody else.

Curious about what was said to her parents, I started with her father. Sloane's last message to him said, I love and miss you. But nothing else from this past week.

Then I clicked on her mother's name. And my stomach turned sour when I read the message she sent her.

Mom, please return my call. I need someone to talk to. I can't get their voices out of my head. They're all I hear. Seeing Aaron the other night and him accepting my apology wasn't enough for them to go away.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck...

I quickly tapped on the phone icon to call her mother, hoping she'd answer, and when she didn't, I left a message explaining what I did and why, asking her to immediately call her daughter's phone. I also gave her my phone number, so she had it.

After hanging up, I searched through her photo gallery, and it hit me hard when I saw numerous pictures of the kids I saw on her fridge, along with a few of a man with the same two young kids.

I also saw a few selfies of Sloane holding two kids on her lap, smiling, happy, with no scars on her face, gorgeous as could be, and slimmer than she was now.

Shit... These must be who Sloane referred to when she mentioned losing her family—husband or boyfriend and kids.

Hoping to find something, I tapped on the Google bar to look at her internet history, but then I heard someone knocking on the front door. Assuming it was the neighbor, I set down Sloane's phone and headed to the door.

It was him. "Sorry, I didn't want to bother you, but before my wife and I went to bed, I wanted to ensure everything was okay. And to see if you need any assistance."

"She's not here. But her phone is."

He scratched his head and suggested, "Have you checked the garage? I know she always parks inside whenever she does leave and return."

Fuck...

"No... not yet," I said, and then a rush of panic quickly roamed through me, and I took off like a bat out of hell to the kitchen after remembering seeing a door that would've led to her garage.

Sloane, you better not be in there...

She wasn't, and neither was a vehicle.

I returned to the kitchen to find Sloane's neighbor standing beside the counter with a worried look on his face.

"She's definitely not here," I said, feeling a little relieved. "You can go back home. Thanks for your help."

"You're welcome," he responded, color returning to his face. "If we think of anything else, I've got your card. I'll call."

"Thanks."

I sat on the barstool at her counter, looking at Sloane's phone, wondering what to do, where I should look for her, or if I should go home and wait.

Seeing mail on the counter by the wall, I reached for it and looked to see if her last name had changed—it did.

She was married. And those were her husband and kids in the photos. Logan, Olivia, and Paxton.

Fuck.

The envelope dropped from my hands as I closed my eyes and lowered my head into them. I'm so sorry, Sloane. I whispered.

I've got to find her.

I didn't know what she drove or where she'd be, but after much thought, something inside me said I needed to go where she and I last spent time together, that I'd most likely find her there.

So, grabbing her phone in case her mother returned my call, I headed to Lincoln Park.

I flew through the streets of Chicago, not caring if I got pulled over. When I got to the parking lot where we were before, there were a couple of cars in the lot, with one of those vehicles having a California license plate, and my heart gained speed.

She's here.

She's fucking here.

I pulled in beside her and opened my door as I shifted my Suburban into park.

Sloane wasn't inside her vehicle, so I ran to the area where we sat and talked last, and when I saw a woman sitting in the sand, facing the water, I knew it was her and rushed to her.

"Care for any company?" I said.

"How did you find me?" she quietly responded, tears in her voice and her eyes focused on the water.

"Something told me this was where I'd find you," I said, lowering my ass onto the sand.

"I almost tried doing it again, but I couldn't go through with it," she admitted after a brief silence.

My body froze, my heart stilled, and I closed my eyes. I had a feeling of what Sloane meant, but to be sure, I asked, "What did you try doing?"

"Ending it all," she whispered. "I miss them. I just want to be with them, Aaron," she cried.

I wrapped an arm around her and pulled her tightly to me, saying, "I know."

"Olivia's birthday was yesterday. She would've turned seven," Sloane whispered.

Instead of responding, I waited to see if she'd continue telling me more.

And she did.

"A couple of months ago, Paxton would've turned four." She shook as she spoke, so I held her tighter. "Logan was my husband, and Olivia and Paxton were my kids. My selfishness ruined their lives, Aaron."

Sloane just confirmed what I'd figured.

I wasn't sure what to say, but it had me questioning why she believed what she was. "I don't understand. How is the accident your fault when you said the guy hit you head-on?"

"Because had Logan not had to pick me up from the hospital that day, they'd still be here. That's why it's my fault."

"Why were you in the hospital?"

"Logan brought me there after I tried ending my life again."

I swallowed.

"It's my fault they're gone."

"It's not your fault, Sloane. You can't think that way. It could've happened whether you and your family were driving home from the hospital or you were heading somewhere else."

"They'd still be here if it hadn't been for me. Losing them was my punishment for being selfish."

"Sloane. You can't think like that."

"It should've been me that was taken away, not them."

Fuck. Maybe I do need to talk to Shayla. She's the expert, the one trained to know how to deal with and handle something like this.

I sure as hell don't know what to say without making things worse.

"Do you remember Shayla?"

She slowly nodded, whispering, "Your sister?"

"Yes. If you're interested, Shayla may be the one who can help you get through this. She's a psychologist, and she's damn good at what she does. So if you want her number, I can definitely give it to you."

She shook her head. "I can't talk to your sister. But thank you for the offer."

Not knowing what to do or say, I sighed.

"Let me know if you change your mind."

"Okay," she whispered.

I reached into my pocket, grabbed her phone, and handed it to her, saying, "Since you weren't responding to me and because you worried me, I broke into your home tonight. Tomorrow, I'll have someone come out immediately to see if they can fix it."

"That's okay." She looked down at what I handed her, asking, "Did you go through my phone?"

"I did," I admitted. "You left me no choice but to, and I was desperate. I was trying to figure out where I could find you. I hope you're not mad."

"I'm not. I'm sorry you had to do what you did."

"It's okay. At least I found you, and I'm extremely relieved you're okay. But I have to warn you. I used your phone to call your mother. And I left a message when she didn't answer."

"Okay. She wouldn't have answered since she'd be in bed asleep. I don't know what time it is right now, but she's seven hours ahead of us. They've been traveling Europe and won't be back until the end of the year."

"So, besides me, you have nobody you can talk to or see right now."

Everything is falling into place.

I'm her only hope to help her get through this.

"Yes."

I scooped her onto my lap, held her tightly, and with my chin on her shoulder, I said, "I think you should come home with me tonight. Your car will be okay if it stays here for a little while. I'll have a towing company tow it to my place. Would you be okay with that?"

She hesitantly nodded.

To get her to laugh or smile and to help ease her mind, I teased, "I promise I won't try any hanky panky stuff on you."

I won't lie, though. Since Sloane won't talk to my sister, I will do whatever I can to get her to see her life is valued and that she's worth being here. Just because she lost her family, it doesn't mean she also needs to end hers.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter!!