Wherever It Leads(17)

“He doesn’t have that ‘quiet serial killer’ look in his eyes when you’re alone?”

“No,” I snort. “He has that ‘hypnotizing sex machine’ look.”

Presley laughs and fiddles with the zipper on my brand new suitcase, also courtesy of Fenton. “Look, Brynne, if you really don’t want to go, then don’t. But I think you do. That’s why I’m pushing you. You just . . . you deserve some fun. You need a break from all the craziness and what better way to do it than with Fenton?” She puts the tip of her fingernail between her teeth and thinks. “This is like . . . imagine this trip as pushing a button. When you come back, you’ll be reinvigorated. You’ll have something, hopefully a whole lot of somethings,” she grins, “to think about and smile when you’re dealing with life. Right now, you don’t have a lot to go on in that department.”

“Thanks for that, Dr. Phil.”

“I’m serious.”

I pad across the room and sit beside her. Ignoring the suitcase and all it entails, I look at my friend. “I’m not worried Fenton is a serial killer, Pres. I’m worried I’ll be awkward. What if I get there and have a panic attack? What if something happens with Brady and Mom calls and I can’t get to her fast enough? What if—”

“Stop.” She places her hand on my shoulder and watches me until my breathing slows. “If something happens with Brady, I’ll make sure you make it to your mom as quickly as possible. I’ll have Daddy’s jet come get you if I have to. But, Brynne . . .” Her gaze drops to my lap before finding mine again. “You know there’s a chance you might not hear about him for months. Years. You can’t put off living because of that.”

The words are a knife to my chest. A knife that’s serrated and stabs me repeatedly, creating a jagged, gushing wound. It’s a thought I’m just learning to live with, to accept as a realistic possibility, and to not want to hurl when it flashes through my mind. I miss Brady. To think what he could be going through . . .

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I didn’t mean to bring it up.”

“It’s fine,” I half-laugh. “You’re right. Brady would say the same thing.”

“I’m not sure he’d like me pushing you to go with some guy though.”

“Probably not,” I giggle.

Her smile warms my heart, thawing the fear that threatened to grip me.

“Grant said the day he was kidnapped, they were working in an area they normally didn’t frequent.” Presley watches cautiously because, while I talk to her about practically everything, I don’t talk about the intricacies of this much. I don’t know why I feel compelled to now, but I do. “He said they got a call to go over there—him, Brady, and another guy named Zore. And because Brady is a doctor and not former military, he’s supposed to stay with a security detail at all times. There was a little boy in the road with a soccer ball crying and Brady broke off and went to him while the other guys were talking to some locals . . .”

Presley squeezes my shoulder. “Sounds like something your brother would do. Always the softie, even at the risk of his own safety.”

“He risked everything for that little boy, yet Mandla won’t risk anything to get him back. They say the government won’t let them go in because it’s against international treaties to go in and basically start a war, and they can’t negotiate with terrorists. But that’s bullshit, Pres. You know they know who took him. They just stay silent. Our attorney says it’s because anything they say can be used against them if we sue them. Grant won’t even say much more about it. It’s all this big conspiracy, it feels like, and you know, as much as I don’t want to believe it because he and my brother were best friends, I feel like Grant’s been paid off to keep quiet. I really do.”

Presley gasps. “Are you serious?”

I nod. “I am. My dad suspects it too, but I don’t think Mom realizes it. And Dad doesn’t tell her so she doesn’t get even more upset. She can’t handle much more.”

“I wish I could help you,” she says. “Just watching you go through this about rips me in two.”

“You do help me. You’re here every day. You let me cry and mope and pick me up and shake me when I need it but don’t want it.” I think back to all the ways she’s been there for me. “I’m pretty sure that, without you, I’d have lost it this year.”

“Not true. You would’ve been fine because you’re the strongest person I know.”

I snort.

“You are! You’ve handled all this crap like a champ. I would’ve just drowned myself in expensive champagne and waited for someone to fix it all. I couldn’t have kept going like you have. You’re kinda my hero.”

I toss a pillow at her and it hits her square in the face. “Shut it,” I laugh.

“If I ever see Grant again, I’ll take my heel off and stab him through the heart. Best friend’s honor.” She presses her lips against two fingers and holds them up in the air in some sign of solidarity.

I laugh. “Twist it while it’s in there.”

“Done.”

“I just wish I could go back and not let him go to Africa the first time. Whatever happened to him over there just changed his life and mine. Things would be so different if he hadn’t gone, you know?”