So Rare (Boys of South Chapel #3)

3. Kabir

Chapter 3

Kabir

NOW

Try as I might, I cannot control the incessant tapping of my heel as Levi and I sit on the couch and Garrett paces in front of the coffee table.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

My impulse is to scold him—to tell him to sit—but bloody hell, in this moment, I wish I could be pacing right alongside him.

As soon as he dialed, he tapped the Speaker button. We’re all watching his device where it rests in the center of the coffee table, willing his father to pick up the goddamn phone.

By the fourth ring, I’m certain his voicemail will pick up.

But then there’s a click, followed by a distracted “hello?”

“Dad.” That single word is uttered with a mix of fear and relief and hope.

“Hey Garrett. Is everything okay?”

Dr. Gary Ferguson’s words are calm, albeit a bit clipped. Those two simple sentences are all I need to hear to deduce that he will not have any solid information for us.

Nevertheless, Garrett looks to me as if he needs me to spoon-feed him the answer to his father’s question.

I give him a pointed look, urging him to go on. Instead, a muscle in his jaw ticks.

He’s torn, struggling with whether to explain our predicament.

Though the affinity he has for his father is clearly on par with that he maintains for Hunter, this is not the moment to pull punches. We must have answers, and time is of the essence.

“You there, son?” Dr. Ferguson asks. From the sound of the muffled voices in the background and the shuffling of papers, the man is busy and clearly only half paying attention to this call.

Finally, Garrett finds his voice. “Yeah, yeah. I’m here. You know how you wanted me to have Hunter call as soon as she was up?”

Dr. Ferguson chuckles through the line.

“Ah, right. I’m sorry about that, son. I may have overreacted a bit. I meant to text you this morning, but after Magnolia took off, I came up to the hospital to play catch-up.”

The new information barely has time to take root in my mind before Garrett pounces.

“What do you mean Magnolia took off ?”

“Hmm?” There’s a pause on the good doctor’s end, followed by more muffled chatter.

The lack of regard for his son makes my temper flare. Before I can butt in on the conversation, though, he’s back.

“Sorry about that,” he mumbles, obviously still distracted. “I don’t know all the details, but Magnolia left a note. Said she and Hunter are heading to a spa together for girls’ weekend.” With a sigh, he goes on. “I’m sorry if I worried you. Turns out, Magnolia wanted to surprise Hunter and was stressed when she couldn’t get ahold of her and didn’t want to spoil the plans.”

Surprise Hunter? My stomach plummets. Bloody hell.

Levi hisses beside me on the couch.

Garrett locks eyes with me, and without a single word passing between us, I’m certain we are on the same page.

Hunter would not willingly go anywhere with her mother. Especially not without telling us.

The tension in the room thickens until it’s hard to breathe as a dozen new questions come to mind. I’m so lost in sorting through them that when a hand comes to rest on my knee, I startle. Levi’s grip is tight but welcome in a reassuring kind of way. When I focus on his face though, he looks just as lost as I feel.

We’ve reached a dead end, it seems.

We have an answer, and yet, we don’t actually know anything.

As I turn from him to Garrett, I’m hit with the realization that Dr. Ferguson could provide a crucial piece of information.

Quickly catching Garrett’s gaze, I mouth “Where?”

With his lips pressed together, he dips his chin. “Do you know where they went?” he asks his father. “The name of the spa, or where it’s located?”

“Oh… hmm.”

I clench both fists to temper the urge to shout at the man. Doesn’t he understand the urgency here? Can he truly not comprehend how toxic his wife is?

“I don’t recall the name of it,” he finally says. “I think it was some place in upstate New York? Magnolia may have included the information in her note. Honestly, I read it quickly and moved on. I was just relieved to know my worries were for nothing.”

Levi huffs beside me.

“I do remember the note mentioning that they would have to surrender their phones for the treatment. It’s some kind of holistic disconnect package, I believe.”

Garrett grits his teeth with so much force I can hear it across the distance that separates us.

“Dad,” he practically pleads. “When you get home, please take a picture of the note and send it to me. I need to talk to Hunter as soon as possible.”

That finally gets Dr. Ferguson’s attention. “Why are you so concerned about your sister?”

“She’s not my sister,” he snaps. Then, after an audible inhale that I assume is meant to calm his own frazzled nerves, he adds, “I’m just—I’m worried. Hunter… well…”

As Garrett continues to struggle, Levi suddenly jumps off the couch. He tips his head back and pinches his fingers together above it, as if he’s dropping an object into his mouth, then holds his other hand up, pantomiming the action of drinking from a cup or bottle.

I have no idea how to interpret this charade. I’m still running through each movement, parsing out details, when Garrett snaps his fingers.

“Her meds!” he yells. “Hunter left her meds here.”

“Oh my.”

Finally.

For the first time since this call began, we seem to have the good doctor’s undivided attention.

“I could overnight them to her,” Garrett offers quickly. He continues to pace, scratching at the back of his skull, anxiety emanating from him, but he keeps his tone even. “If you can go home and get me the mailing information, even just the name of the spa, I can drop them off at FedEx.”

“Yes, that works. Good thinking, son.” His praise is followed by muffled speaking again. It seems impossible to hold the man’s attention for more than a few seconds at a time.

“Dad,” Garrett bites out. So much for keeping his cool. “Hunter needs her meds. As soon as you get home, send me the info.”

“Yes, of course. Thank you for helping her, Garrett. Just put the overnight charges on my credit card.”

Garrett agrees, and not a heartbeat later, Dr. Ferguson ends the call.

We all stare at the phone in a charged moment of silence. Levi has his elbows pressed into his legs, fingers steepled and forehead hidden from view. Garrett’s hands are on his hips, his molars grinding back and forth audibly once more. In one quick motion, he drops his hands and lunges for the device. Then, with a scream, he hurls it at the wall and sinks to his knees.