Layers(97)

I want her so much that I can conjure up everything about her. The touch of her flawless, silky, honeyed skin. Her sweet, childlike freckles. The way her flushed face and parted sweet mouth looked above me. Her soft hair and that incredible scent of clean, cinnamon, and Hayley. She’s the only thing that’s right. The only thing that matters. I gotta get her back.

Damn, she even made me think more than once seriously about the dreadful combination of the words settling and down. And I even liked the sound of it.

I grab my phone from its resting place on my clothes and check out the damage of not being connected for a few hours. Damn. So many emails; it never ends. Delegate, Stark, delegate.

And just like an answer to a silent prayer my phone rings and it’s her.

“Hales?” I breathe, instantly picking up.

There is so much fused into that one single name—my anxiety, my exhaustion, my constrained frustration and a whole lot of longing. What’s happened? What did she just say? “Daniel I need …” What, baby, what is it that you need? Hales. Damn, she’s gone. I try to call back, but her phone is switched off. What the f**k?

I have to talk to her. Where is she? She mentioned something about visiting her parents. Chicago, was it? I’ll try Natasha; she must know how to reach her. What’s the time? 10 p.m. Natasha finally answers after the fourth or fifth ring. Anxious, I almost break the phone with my grip, waiting.

“Who is it?” she asks, hesitantly.

“Daniel Stark.”

There’s a short silence on the line. Don’t play games with me now; I am far from being in the mood. I try to compose myself before I bark out something I might end up regretting.

“Hayley just called me and the line went dead. Do you know where she is or how I can reach her?”

She clears her throat and replies. “She’s at her parents, in Chicago. She’ll be coming home tomorrow evening.”

“Do you have her parents’ number?”

“I do. Daniel,” her voice sounds weary, “but it’s one a.m. in Chicago now, I don’t think it’s a good time to call their landline.” She sighs and goes on, “Given what they’re going through, I’m not sure a call in the middle of the night will do any good.”

“What do you mean, ‘given what they’re going through’?” What happened? Is Hales okay? Restless, I stand up and start pacing the room.

“It’s her brother. There was a situation with his platoon in Afghanistan and they aren’t sure.” Her voice cracks. I bite my lips and slam the wall with my palm. Fuck.

“‘Not sure’ what?” I know my voice is less than calm but f**k if I care.

“Not sure if he’s missing or if he’s even alive.” Her voice is full of concern.

I force out the air trapped in my lungs.

“Natasha, can you give me her parents address and her brother’s full name, and whatever information you have about him?”

She does without any arguing. I thank her before ending the call.

I feel like the greatest jerk alive. Hayley is somewhere all agonized, worried about her brother. She’s suffering and I’m not there for her. Hell, I’m even responsible for causing her pain in the first place. I need to make it right; I need to be there for her.

I walk to my office and book the earliest available morning flight. Providing my Amex details I think about the fact that it’s time to make a use of my White House connections besides the Thai deal. It’s not my thing. I usually shy away from calling in favors, but for Hales I’ll do it. It’s too late to be calling that prick Davidson; there’s a four hour difference between San Francisco and DC. I’ll call him tomorrow before the flight. I’ll even spread my legs for him if he wants, that arrogant, corrupted son of a bitch. But for her I’ll do almost anything. I’ll get the damn information about her brother at whatever the cost.

With the thought of seeing her tomorrow and a burning determination to get her back pulsing from every organ of my body, I hit the shower.

This is your chance, Stark, don’t f**k it up again.