Three Little Words

by Jenny Holiday

  Fuck. Fuck. Fear surged through Bennett. Wild, animalistic, pure fear.

  If she—wait. He did know where Gia would go in St. Petersburg, Florida.

  He grabbed his keys. “Let’s go.”

  “You don’t need to come,” she said, but he was already at the elevator punching the call button.

  She kept protesting, but he ignored her as they descended. She started typing on her phone, and by the time they’d reached the parking lot, the other girls were there, too.

  Elise must have been able to read his face, because she held up a hand as he and Wendy approached. “She isn’t going to want to see you.”

  He did not, at this point, give a shit. “Well, then she shouldn’t have run off and gotten herself lost in the woods.”

  “She’s lost in the woods?” Elise’s eyes widened.

  They were standing in front of the driver’s door of the turquoise toy car. Instead of answering, he motioned for them to move.

  “Bennett,” Jane tried, “we get where you’re coming from, but let us go get her. If you charge in all Tarzan-like, it’s only going to freak her out more. Haven’t you noticed there’s a pattern here?”

  “Yes,” he ground out. “I am well aware of the pattern. The fact remains that if Gia is lost in the woods—or worse—you’re not keeping me away.”

  It sounded like someone else was talking, some calm but determined stranger who lived inside him.

  “Listen,” said Wendy. “We can compromise.” She turned to Bennett. “We’ll all go, but you wait in your car. I promise, if we can’t find her, or if we find her and we need your help, we will let you know. But Jane’s right. You have to stop pushing her. I get where you’re coming from. Believe me”—she gestured to encompass the others—“we’re on your side. But you continuing to push her is not going to work.”

  “Let us push her,” Elise said softly. He would have thought she was kidding, but she was looking at him intently, her expression utterly serious. “But we have to get her first.”

  Some of the fight left him, then. And it left a vacancy.

  He should have been too jaded or too smart—or too something—to entertain any more hope where Gia was concerned, but…“Y’all are on my side?”

  All three of them nodded.

  Well, shit. He could do a lot worse. With Gia, this sisterhood might actually be the secret weapon.

  * * *

  After an hour, Gia started to panic. She’d been telling herself that someone would eventually come by. And surely someone would. It was just a question of how long it was going to take.

  And who that someone was going to be.

  The truth was, she wanted it to be Bennett.

  She’d had ample time to sit—she’d tried to stand up, but she was pretty sure that in addition to aggravating her knee, she’d broken her ankle—and contemplate the question she’d posed earlier but had put off thinking about in her frenzy to get out of the restaurant. If Bennett was trying to save her, did his reason for doing so matter?

  That led to another question. Maybe he wasn’t trying to control her so much as trying to help her? Just like she had helped him, maybe—with the trip to Charleston, with seeing his parents? And maybe his interest in helping her really was rooted in love.

  And maybe that context made all the difference. She’d been reflexively lumping him with Lukas, and all the douchebags who’d come after Lukas, but maybe she should have been lumping him in with Elise and Wendy and Jane. She didn’t freak out when they tried to help her. She was seriously thinking about the stuff they’d said last night.

  And the most astonishing question of all: Did she love him back? Was that possible? The longer she sat and thought about it, the more likely it seemed. Why else would she have flipped out so utterly—and more than once? Her normal modus operandi was to just…not care. She’d have her fun with a guy and move on. One-and-done. Two-and-through. She had done it so many times that she’d built herself up into believing she just wasn’t wired for love.

  She’d certainly never been in it. Which might explain why she wouldn’t recognize it.

  Really, why else all the anger and defensiveness? If she truly didn’t care, she would have mentally moved on a long time ago, right?

  So, yeah, she wanted Bennett to save her right about now.

  Though she shouldn’t be so picky. She needed someone to come to her rescue—anyone. The longer she sat there, the colder she got. The more frightened she became. She told herself she was being unreasonable. She was in Florida, for heaven’s sake. Yeah, she was cold, but people didn’t die of exposure in Florida. What’s more, she was in a nature preserve on the edge of an inhabited place. People must come here to hike all the time, right? But damn, what she wouldn’t give for Bennett’s cozy, broken-in leather jacket right now.

  She was so tired, too. Like, suddenly to-the-bone exhausted. Her eyes felt like they couldn’t focus anymore.

  “Gia!”

  She had no idea how long she’d been asleep when she heard her name. Her first reaction to the familiar voice was a rush of relief and gratitude.

  “Gia!”

  Her second reaction was disappointment that the voice didn’t belong to Bennett.

  “Wendy!” She raised her voice as much as she could. “Wendy, I fell!”

  There was a rustling in the underbrush around the corner—unseen, but she could hear it. Footsteps getting closer.

  “Oh my God!”

  It was the girls—all of them.

  It should have been a relief. And it was.

  But it was also not lost on her that this was the first time in her life she’d ever been disappointed to see her girls. Wished for someone else instead of them.

  That was…telling.

  She should probably do something about that.

  But first she needed to work on keeping her eyes open.

  That was proving increasingly difficult. It was as if, once she’d spotted the girls and known she was safe, her body had just given up.

  So she gave in, closed her eyes, and, even though it was futile, wished for Bennett.

  * * *

  Gia’s friends had been in the woods for fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes and seven seconds, to be precise. Bennett knew because after promising them he’d wait in the car, he’d set a twenty-minute alarm on his phone. When it went off, he was going in.

  He jumped about a foot when the phone—the actual phone, not the alarm—rang. He didn’t recognize the number and so normally would not have picked up, but he rushed to answer it now. He had Wendy’s number in his phone, but it could be Elise or Jane.

  “Hello?”

  “Bennett.”

  It was his father.

  The last thing he needed was more adrenaline flooding his system, but his body reacted predictably.

  “I can’t talk right now.” That had come out wrong—much sharper than he’d intended.

  “Oh, okay.” His dad sounded chastened.

  “I’m sorry, Dad. I actually would really like to talk, I just…am possibly in the middle of an emergency here.” Then, seized with the impulse to give something back—it probably hadn’t been easy for his dad to call him—he said, “Gia is missing.”

  “Oh no.”

  “She went hiking alone.” Which was technically true, but that didn’t exactly capture the spirit of what had happened. So, feeling either brave or foolish, he wasn’t sure which, he added, “We had a pretty big fight.”

  “You love this woman.”

  It wasn’t a question. Part of him wanted to object, to say that his father knew nothing about him or his life and so could not reasonably draw that conclusion, but what was the point? He was right.

  And he had called.

  “Yes.”

  “Then let me clear the line. But…”

  “Yes?”

  “Never mind. You don’t need my advice.”

  “I’d like to hear it, though.” It was the truth—and he was as surprised as a
nyone.

  There was a long pause, long enough that Bennett thought maybe his father was going to backpedal. “If you love her, and she loves you, fight for that.”

  Shit. His throat clenched so badly he could only whisper. “I will.”

  “I just wanted to thank you for visiting,” his dad said. He cleared his throat. “But you go now. Let me know how it goes…if you don’t mind.”

  “I will.”

  He hung up and blew out a breath. Thought about the advice he’d gotten this evening. His dad saying, “Fight.” Wendy saying, “Stop pushing.”

  Maybe they were both right.

  He thought about Gia, bristling against declarations of love. Gia and her daily Polaroids. Noah saying, “Show her.”

  The seed of an idea took root.

  And just then, they burst into the parking area—all of them. Elise and Jane had crossed their arms and made a chair for Gia, who was balanced on it with her arms around their necks. Wendy ran ahead.

  “She’s okay!”

  He stumbled out of the car and lurched toward her. Grabbed her hand. It was clammy. He ducked down so he could look into her eyes—she was staring at the ground. She smiled at him, but it was a sort of spaced-out smile. Something was wrong.

  “She’s not okay,” he said urgently—he wasn’t even sure who he was talking to. “She’s not…herself.”

  Wendy tried to tug his hand from Gia’s. He resisted.

  “I’m pretty sure she’s broken her ankle, and that she’s in shock,” Elise said gently. “But she’s going to be fine. We’re taking her to the hospital.”

  Yes. Hospital. That was what needed to happen next.

  “And for us to do that, you need to let go of her.” Wendy, having given up on the tugging, slapped the back of his hand.

  He let go reluctantly. “Okay. But promise you’ll keep me in the loop.” He looked at each of Gia’s friends in turn, trying to will them to understand how important this was to him.

  They agreed, and he transferred his gaze to Gia. Smiled. Her expression went from spaced out to adorably bewildered. His love. His stubborn, wounded love. She didn’t know what to make of his smile, he supposed.

  It was difficult to take a step back, to make room to let them go. But he had things to do suddenly. “You all take care of my girl. I have something brewing.”

  Wendy narrowed her eyes. “You’d better. And it better be good.” But then she softened and said, “Let me know if you need any help.”

  He nodded, flashed another smile at Gia, got back into the stupid toy car, and hit the road.

  Chapter Nineteen

  THE WEDDING DAY

  Where the hell was everyone?

  Okay, yes, Gia would admit that the events of yesterday had perhaps meant that this morning was not destined to go exactly the way they had planned it.

  They had gotten home from the hospital after midnight, Gia hopped up on painkillers and wearing an ankle-to-knee cast. She had tried to talk to Wendy last night as she’d hobbled to bed on her crutches, but Wendy just handed her water—she’d been diagnosed with mild dehydration and shock—and a couple more painkillers, and that had been game over for Gia.

  And this morning she’d awakened to a note that said, “G, wanted you to sleep in. Just out doing some last-minute prep. I’ll be in touch.”

  Where was everyone? It was late—like, “thirty minutes until the ceremony was supposed to begin” late. Gia had seriously slept in.

  Her phone dinged. It was Wendy.

  How are you? Are you up for the wedding?

  Are you KIDDING me? I could be in a full-body cast and have to be wheeled in on a gurney and I’d be “up for it.” I could be dead and I’d still haunt your wedding from beyond the grave. (Seriously, I slept great and feel fine today, just a bit embarrassed. I need to talk to Bennett. But after the wedding. I have brought enough drama.)

  How long ago had she been pledging Wendy’s wedding would be drama-free?

  Yes. Totally talk to him. But after.

  Gia heaved a big sigh. What the hell was she going to say? I’m sorry I ran away twice? I hope it’s not too late?

  I love you, too?

  Well, yes. She would say all those things. Probably not very articulately. She would just cross her fingers and say them.

  But after. As Wendy had said. In the meantime…

  Where IS everyone? We have to get ready. I have to do your hair.

  We had a little problem with the officiant, so we’ve been out trying to rustle up another one. Go ahead and get ready. We’ll be there soon.

  Gia’s first impulse was to protest that Wendy couldn’t get ready alone. This was her wedding, not just a run-of-the-mill night on the town. Gia was a bridesmaid, and she took that shit seriously.

  But this was also not about her.

  “Drama-free, drama-free, drama-free.” She whispered it to herself like a mantra, still mortified that she was the one who needed to hear that message. Then she got dressed, did her makeup, and, as she hobbled over to the mirror on the back of the door to assess herself, cursed her cast and crutches for ruining her look.

  A knock at the door made her jump.

  “It’s about time!” She swung open the door and hopped back to make room for her friends.

  Except it wasn’t the friends she’d expected, but Cameron and Jay. Cameron was dressed in his groomsman uniform of ecru linen pants and a white button-down shirt, and Jay was looking sharp in white pants and a pale-blue polo shirt.

  Bennett was not with them. Of course.

  “Hey, guys. Where are the girls?”

  “We’re here to escort you to the wedding,” Cameron said, completely not answering her question. He and his brother crossed their arms and joined their hands.

  “I’m supposed to be doing Wendy’s hair.”

  “I think that’s already taken care of,” Cameron said, and even though she tried not to be, Gia was a little hurt.

  “Wendy doesn’t want you exacerbating your injury, so we’re at your service,” Jay said, and they hunched over, clearly intending for her to sit on the basket made by their arms.

  Okay, well, once again, this was not about her—drama-free!—so she needed to get over herself.

  She rested her crutches against the wall and hopped onto the chair they’d made. Then she leaned back over and grabbed her crutches. Which, of course, would not work at all on sand, now that she came to think of it. Leave it to Wendy to think of everything.

  She laughed as they set off down the hall. But then—

  “Wait! I need my bag!”

  Cameron and Jay looked at each other, and she headed them off by saying, “Don’t roll your eyes at me! My whole life is in that bag.”

  They struggled their way back for the bag. Cameron slung it over his shoulder, which was kind of comical, and they were off again.

  The guys walked her away from the hotel, carefully coordinating their steps on the pool deck as they threaded through the hotel’s blue lounge chairs.

  “We could have probably gotten a wheelchair from the hotel?” she ventured at one point, but they acted like they hadn’t heard her.

  As they emerged onto the beach, she could see the girls up ahead, Elise and Jane like beacons in their emerald-green bridesmaid dresses, and Wendy’s dark hair—apparently braided by someone else—set off by her lovely white dress. Noah’s mom and her boyfriend and Wendy’s aunt all looked great, too, dressed up and smiling and chatting.

  The plan had been for everyone to stand for the duration of the ceremony and then move to big picnic blankets for the lunch, but there was one big, cushy chair up there that looked like it had been stolen from the hotel. She would like to think it was for Wendy’s aunt, but though she was in her late sixties, she was in great shape. The chair was probably for Gia and her nonfunctioning leg.

  There was also…a screen?

  The kind you project movies onto. Was Wendy doing some kind of slide show? You sometimes saw that at weddings
—embarrassing pictures of the bride and groom as kids. Well, knock her over with a feather. Wendy seemed like the last person who would be into something schmaltzy like that.

  The guys set her down on the chair in front of the screen, and everyone greeted her.

  “I thought I was gonna braid your hair?” she said to Wendy. She’d watched a bunch of YouTube tutorials and was confident she could have produced something a lot cooler than the basic version Wendy was sporting.

  “Eh, too much going on!” Wendy trilled dismissively, which was weird because Wendy didn’t trill.

  Bennett, however, was nowhere to be seen. She’d tried not to be too obvious about it, but she had surveyed the entire scene.

  She had a momentary spike of fear that he had taken off, and that it was her fault. Surely he wouldn’t abandon his best friend on his wedding day out of fear of facing her?

  But no. There was no way he’d bail on the lunch he was catering. He was too obsessive about his food.

  But whatever. She needed to bank…whatever the hell she was going to say for later.

  Drama-free! Drama-free! Drama-free!

  Wendy clapped her hands. “Okay! We’re going to go get ready to walk down the aisle, but you’re off the hook, Tiny Tim.”

  “What? There’s no aisle.” There weren’t even any chairs to make an aisle. Wendy and Noah had decided not to have a formal procession, just to be surrounded by their friends without all the trappings of pairing off attendants and all that.

  “See you soon, sweetie.” Elise bent to kiss Gia.

  Huh? How long was their imaginary aisle going to be that she needed a farewell kiss?

  Jane waved and skipped off, and Gia twisted after her retreating friends. They and the guys were indeed walking away from the spot where the wedding was presumably taking place, although the only items marking the spot were that screen and an accompanying computer and projector on a stand. Maybe the computer would play music and the projector would project…rainbows and shit? Also very not Wendy.

  Also, why were the older folks retreating? If there was aisle-walking happening, they wouldn’t be doing it, would they?