Stitch by Jaime Lewis (ebook reader online .txt) 📗

to call her a few times, but her call goes to voicemail, and texts I’ve sent go unanswered.”

“What about your mom or sisters? Have they heard anything from her?”

“No, nothing.”

“That’s really strange. When Tenley and I talked to her the other night she seemed excited about coming down.”

“Something is wrong. I just know it. Mia never misses a holiday. Plus, she’s an explainer.” Alex’s look of confusion made him elaborate. “She likes to explain herself down to the very last detail, even though it annoys the hell out of me.”  He read the text to her again, and Alex drew her eyebrows in.

She reached out and touched his arm, and he knew it was a gesture of comfort. It was a quality that he loved about her.

“Maybe something came up with her job. She did say that she has been inundated at the clinic. From the sounds of it, she works from sunup to sundown. Maybe she was having second thoughts on coming down and wants to just chill by herself for a long weekend. I mean, it can get pretty crazy hanging with our little family,” Ace gave her a sideways look, and Alex threw her hands in the air.  “Hey, I don’t know, I’m just thinking out loud.”  She got up from the table and walked over to the counter, and continued to cut up more vegetables. She looked over her shoulder, “Give Stitch a call; maybe she called him.”  Ace didn’t miss the small smile on her face.

“Why would she call him?” He barked, causing her to turn around and raise an eyebrow at him, and she sighed.

“Maybe, because they talk on the phone and just maybe she mentioned something to him. We’ve talked about this, but I guess you just choose not to listen. You know, for someone who is so detailed-oriented in your day-to-day life, you sure are oblivious, or maybe just in denial to your surroundings here at home.” His eyes widened at her smart-ass comment.  He stared at her back while she continued to busy herself around the kitchen, getting things ready for dinner and for Irish and Bailey’s small wedding ceremony that was taking place on their back patio before they all sat down for a Thanksgiving feast.

Damn, now that he thought about it, they’d held three weddings at the house within the past nine months. Shit, he should start charging a venue and catering fee, considering Alex orchestrated everything from decorating down to the food.

He shook his head, realizing he was getting off track. He wanted to focus a little more on this Mia and Stitch “thing.”  Was there an actual “thing” between the two of them, and he wasn’t aware? No, surely, Stitch would have talked with him.  At least he better had, if he knew what was good for him.

He gave Alex another look, this time giving her his best interrogator look. It was the one he used when he confronted an enemy who had valuable information he wanted.  “How often do they talk?” And, damn, if her eyes just twinkled. He should have known better than to pull the SEAL routine with her.  Alex was a born fighter and wouldn’t back down from anyone or anything, including him. Before she could answer, the doorbell rang, bringing their discussion to a temporary halt.  But he would get answers even if he had to play dirty to get them.

He pushed away from the table and stood, pointing his finger in her direction. “We are not done with this discussion.”

“Whatever you say, Ace.” She replied over her shoulder with a sassy smile as she watched him.  He couldn’t help but smile and shake his head.  God damn, he loved her, sass and all.

Chapter Eight

Mia stepped off the bus and almost tumbled over when her ankle gave out. Thankfully, she was close enough to the bus to catch herself. The pain had gotten worse, and the ibuprofen she had taken a few hours ago had worn off. She had a couple of prescription pain pills left over from a dental procedure she had a few months ago, but she wasn’t keen on taking prescription pain medicine.  She and pain killers didn’t mix well. They made her a little looney in her opinion before they’d knock her out for hours. That wouldn’t bode well for her on a bus when she needed to make multiple transfers. Once she was at the cabin and behind locked doors, only then would she consider taking one.

At least she had made it to the small town, and it didn’t appear that she’d been followed. She had watched people closely at each transfer station. Not that she would know what she’d do if someone had acted suspicious, but at least she was keeping aware of her surroundings.

She glanced around and saw through the window that there were some open chairs inside the small bus station.  Her next obstacle was figuring out how she was going to get to the cabin from here. She assumed she could either uber or catch a cab. Neither one made her feel warm and fuzzy.  She was skeptical of anyone right now. The problem was she still didn’t have a phone. The two bus terminals with a small store inside them were out of pay-as-you-go phones. Hopefully, Stitch had a landline that she could call her brother from.

She hefted her backpack on her shoulders and hobbled inside. She ignored the stares from people. The bruising on her face had gotten worse.  She had managed to make it all the way to the town using the excuse that she had been in an accident when people would ask what happened to her.

She carefully sat down and pulled her pant leg up to check on her ankle. It was twice the size it was when she left New York. She wasn’t meant to even be walking on it. Once she made it to the cabin, she’d elevate it and ice it.

Thinking about the