I wanted to say it to her the moment I saw her. But there wasn’t time for that. She was confused enough as it was, and terrified. Laying my own emotions on her right then would’ve been wrong. So I bit my tongue.
I bite my tongue now, as we stand on the grocery store curb and try desperately to figure out where to go from here. The grocery store clerk hasn’t seen him. No one has seen him.
Maybe I’ll bite my tongue forever.
I watch her, the way the dimming sunset plays over her face. It’s anxious, but still the prettiest goddamn thing I’ve ever seen. It wouldn’t be so bad, biting my tongue forever. If I can be here by her side – if I can watch her face the way I do now, but more often, if I can help ease her worries, soothe her overburdened heart – then biting my tongue forever will be worth it. I’m sure of that.
“What do we do now?” She asks me. “No one’s seen him. He could be anywhere, he could be hurt –”
Her shoulder start to shake. I put my hand over hers, and squeeze.
“We have to think. Are there any place he likes? Any places that are special to him?”
“No! There’s nothing besides this! I can’t think of anything, and the longer I stand here the bigger the chance he’s hurt himself – he could already be dead, and I’m just standing here - ”
I pull her into me like I did that day to protect her from the motorcycle. I hold her close, tight, to remind her I’m real.
“I need you to calm down,” I say into her hair. “I’m here, okay? I’m here to help. I won’t let anything bad happen. I promise.”
It’s a huge, terrifying promise. But I mean every word of it.
“You were right. About everything,” She sobs. The sound tears my heart in two.
“What do you mean?”
“I wasn’t happy. But hanging out with you, getting to know you and Burn and Fitz – that was the first time I’d really been happy in a long time.” She shakes her head in my shirt. “I was scared all the time that Dad would leave. I wanted to do something about it, try to stop it, try to help, and all I could think of was Lakecrest. NYU. Doing something made the fear quieter.”
She looks up at me, eyes puffed and red.
“I’m so scared.”
“But you aren’t alone,” I say. “We’ll find him. Together.”
She goes still against me, then sniffs, taking a deep breath.
“There’s an old playground,” She says. “On the bluff, just outside town. He used to take me there all the time.”
“It’s worth a shot.” I nod. “Tell me where to go.”
Bee points over my shoulder as we ride down the highway, telling me to turn. It’s farther out than I thought it was. The bluff is old, overlooking the ocean, but the playground somehow feels older, with all the layers of rust on the swing set and graffiti on the walls of the little bathroom shed. The sun is nearly gone.
“We have to move fast,” I say. “Before we lose light.”
She nods, expression determined. “We’ll split up. I’ll check that way. You check over there.”
“Good thinking.” I flash her a grim smile, but she just turns and takes off running. I head towards the edge of the bluff, a sick pit hardening in my stomach as I know, deep down, I could be looking for a corpse instead of a living, breathing human being.
It’s been four years since I’ve seen one.
I shake my head. No. I can’t let what happened to Mom happen to Bee’s Dad. I can’t let her go through that. If you’re listening, Mom, help me. Help me find him, before it’s too late.
I check the path down the bluff. Nothing. The path up the bluff is steep, and I struggle to hurry up the rocks. I crest the hill, what’s left of my breath punching out of me at the sight of a man sitting on the very edge of the bluff, the wind throwing his hair every which way.
He isn’t slumped. That’s a good sign.
“Mr. Cruz?” I call out. No response. It’s his outline, his shoulders, his hair color from what I can remember of that time I kidnapped Bee. “Mr. Cruz? Can you hear me?”
He looks over his shoulder, eyes weary and black-circled. “Oh. It’s you. The little punk on the motorcycle.”
He can recognize me. That’s another good sign. I straighten.
“Yeah. Wolf Blackthorn. I came here to –”
“To find me,” He finishes for me, and chuckles. “I know. Bee dragged you out here. I knew she’d remember eventually.”
“She’s worried about you,” I say.
“Constantly,” He agrees, then pats the ground beside him. “Come. Sit.”
I hesitate, and he sighs.
“I’m not going to kill myself. It’s okay. Just sit down.”
I do, nervously and slowly. Our legs dangle over the edge. Mr. Cruz is wearing a starched shirt and slacks. He looks almost put-together, a far cry from the man I saw at Bee’s house that day.
“She’s stubborn,” Mr. Cruz says. “She never gives up.”
“Tell me about it,” I groan. I raise my cellphone to call her, but Mr. Cruz stops me with his fingers around my wrist.
“Don’t. Not yet. Please. There are some things I want to say, without her here.”
I lower the phone and put it back in my jacket. “Alright.”
He takes a deep breath. “I haven’t been….a good father. Or a good person, lately. Sickness or not, I should’ve at least made the bare minimum of effort to be there for her. And her mother. But I wasn’t. And I don’t think I can, as long as I’m this sick.”
“We can get you help,” I say. “There are good therapists –”
He laughs. “Have you seen our house? We can barely afford my gauntlet of monthly pills, let alone a therapist.”
It’s then I notice the suitcase next to him. It’s small, but big enough for travelling.
“Mr. Cruz –”
“Bee is a smart, ambitious, driven girl,” He interrupts me. “She’s kind, and self-sacrificing to a fault. But she’s sacrificed too much for me. I realized that, the other day. I’m a fool for not seeing it sooner. If the illness beats me into the ground, I can take it. I’m fine with it. But it beat my little girl’s spirit into the ground along with it. And that’s something I can’t stand.”
He eyes my fingers, the silver rings gleaming in the sunlight.
“She got you that one,” He points at the wolf’s head ring. “For her birthday.”