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Chapter Eight


I couldn't sleep after Seth's call. I was too worried about Em.

The last time I was legitimately worried about Emma was three years before when I'd received a call from Seth telling me that she'd been shot in the field, rushing a drug deal that she was investigating undercover at a pool hall in Brooklyn. The guy that shot her was a gang member who had brutally murdered a teenage girl the week before on the subway near Battery Park and Em had been hot on his tail since. Caught up in the moment, she'd moved too quickly before back-up could arrive and she'd ended up shot in the shoulder before Seth had walked in and took the gangster out. That's just how Em was, though. She never thought or waited in the heat of the moment. She simply got up and defended those who needed it.

That was the first time that I'd realized how dangerous Em's job really was, that whatever I liked to believe Emma was not invincible. She was as fragile as the rest of us human beings, and I could lose her at any moment to this duty she had to protect. It terrified me to imagine what the weight of a world without Emma would feel like, and so I had done everything in my power to push that fear out of my mind, to re-convince myself that Emma was a demigod that couldn't be destroyed.

And yet here I was, on my first night in Nashville, rocking myself slowly in the dark, staring at her face in our wedding photo, overrun with that fear once more.

I didn't even know what to do. Should I call the precinct? Try calling Seth again? Despite what Seth had said, should I go back to New York and try to find Emma? That was most likely where she was, I had decided. I couldn't picture Em getting on the wrong plane. She was too level headed, too focused for that. I rubbed my eyes, exhausted.

Why hadn't she called me?

A knock on the door interrupted my thoughts and I realized that hours had passed since Seth's call and it was now mid-morning, around nine-thirty. The sound all but made me jump out of my skin when I first heard it. "Jared!" I heard Aiden's voice call through the door, "Oh Jaaaaared!"

I stumbled to the door, zombie-like, and opened it a little bit, smooshing my face out to look at her. Aiden grinned, holding up a tray. "Good morning," she sing-songed, "I got breakfast for you. Your hobbit-belly must be starved by now. It's been, like, what? Six, maybe seven hours since we ate?"

I hadn't noticed.

But now that she said it...

I stepped back and let her in.

"Did your wife call yet?" Aiden asked as she put the tray down on the desk by the door.

"No," I answered. "Her partner did, though."

Aiden crawled onto the unmade bed and flopped down on her stomach. "Is your wife the one on TV with all the hair?" she asked.

"I... guess," I said. "I mean, she has blonde, curly hair, yeah." I pointed at the wedding photo. "That's her." I looked at the tray of food. It had a bowl of white pasty stuff, a plate with three pieces of bacon, a glass of orange juice, and a small dish of shredded cheese.

Aiden sat up and snatched the photo off the night stand. "She has frickin' Carrie Bradshaw hair, my God." She stared at the photo.

"Who?"

"Sex in the City?" Aiden asked. "You know. Sarah Jessica Parker."

"Yeah, I guess so," I answered. "I never really saw it."

"You're a boy, of course you haven't." Aiden stared at the photo. "I'd kill for hair like that," she said, running her hands over her short brown hair. She sighed.

I picked up the bowl of paste and sniffed it warily. Then opted for a slice of bacon. "What is that stuff?" I asked.

Aiden looked over. "Grits," she replied. "I didn't know if you liked your grits with cheese or not so I put the cheese on the side."

"I don't know either," I said. "I've never had grits."

"It's like oatmeal, I guess. But made with corn."

"Oh." It sounded weird. "And you put cheese on it?" That sounded really weird.

"Some people do," Aiden answered. She put the photo back on the nightstand. She studied me. "So is your wife with her partner?"

"No," I answered. I put the cheese on the grits. I poked them with a spoon that was on the tray. It looked weird. I ate more bacon.

"Where is she?"

"I don't know, I haven't figured that out yet."

"Do you think they kidnapped her?" Aiden asked, wide-eyed.

"No," I answered. But now that she'd said it, how was I supposed to know? Maybe they had. I thought of those guys chasing us through the airport, about the guy Em had flipped over on his back. I felt sick. "I dunno," I stammered. I felt hot and cold and strange all over.

Aiden frowned.

Then a thought occurred to me. "How did you know about the guys in the airport?" I asked.

"What guys in the airport?" Aiden asked.

"The ones you just asked if I thought they kidnapped Em," I answered. "I didn't tell you we were being chased."

Aiden stared at me, "You were being chased? In the airport?"

"Yeah," I answered, "How did you know that?"

"I didn't," Aiden replied, "I meant by the guys that took Daniel Gregor!"

"Oh," I said.

Aiden a was gnawing her lip now. "But you were being chased in the airport? That only makes me think it more! Did you tell her partner about that?"

"He didn't give me a chance," I answered.

"You should call him back and tell him," Aiden said seriously.

"That's the thing. I don't know what to do," I said, "Part of me wants to fly back to New York and see if I can find Em, the other part of me says I need to stay put and wait because she'll come for me. But I mean, what if something happens? What if she needs my help? Not that I'm much help but ---" I paused. I sighed. "I feel... I just..."

Aiden looked at me with a sad expression in her eyes. "It's okay, Jared," she said.

"It's not okay," I replied. "I'm worried about her. I love her. She's been my best friend for so long, she's been my only friend for so long..."

Aiden pouted out her lower lip. "Aw, Jared. I know it's not helpful but... I'm your friend, too, if you want me to be, that is."

"Thanks," I answered.

"And I'll help you find her, too," Aiden said.

"Thank you," I said.

She nodded at the tray. "Try your grits, Hobbit."

I picked the bowl up and shoveled a mouthful of the pasty stuff into my mouth. The flavor of it reminded me of something, but I wasn't sure what. It had the texture that reminded me of tapioca pudding almost in a really weird way. I don't think I liked it. But I ate it anyways because Aiden was my friend now and she'd brought it to me and I didn't want to hurt her feelings.