Chapter 34

348 23 14
                                    

JOHN'S POV

I hadn't heard from YN for a few days, so I wanted to ring and check how everything was.

I dial YN's number and let it ring. Normally either she or Brad answer by the fourth ring, but not this time. Maybe Molly's being difficult.

The thought makes me chuckle, and I place the receiver down again, intending to ring back in a few minutes.

Cynthia and I were still in Italy, where the sun beats down on us constantly, and I felt relaxed for the most part. One thought did keep floating to the surface of my mind- how much I loved YN.

I thought about her constantly, despite being on honeymoon with my new wife.

Sighing deeply, I pick up the phone again, dialing the number I had come to memorise.

It rings and rings, with no answer. My eyebrows crease in confusion. I look at the phone before placing it back against my ear. It had been cut off. I definitely had the right number.

Trying again, I get the same result. I place the phone down again, and rest my hands on my knees, deep in thought.

She's never normally out at this time of day, and even when I tried to call her yesterday, she didn't pick up.

Who do I know in New York? Maybe they might know something? Think John, think.

Peter.

I frantically punch his number in and wait with baited breath for him to answer.

"Peter!"

"John?"

"Peter! I need you to do something for me, lad."

"Sure, anything John. You know that."

"I need you to go to YN's flat and see if everything's alright. She's not picking up my calls and I need to know that she and Molly are alright."

"Of course. What's the address?"

"65 Stoneybrook Avenue, Manhattan. Call me as quickly as you can."

"Will do, John. Don't panic, I'll sort it."

Despite his words of comfort, I couldn't help but panic. Yes, everything could be fine and I'm just overreacting, but what if something HAS happened? What if Brad's done something?

Oh god.

I get a weird kicking sensation in my stomach, telling me I'm right.

"PETER!" I call frantically before he hangs up.

"Something's wrong, I know it is."

"Okay, John. Just try not to panic. I'm about to leave now, I'll go and have a look. If anything is up, I'll make sure Molly's safe, okay?"

"Yes. Go now." I demand, hanging up.

I stand up and start to pace the floor.

My wife, who was previously sleeping, shifts in the bed, sitting up slightly, immediately noticing my change in manner.

"John, darling? What's the problem?"

"Something's up with YN."

"What makes you say that?"

"She's not answering my calls."

A visible wave of annoyance crosses her face, and she crosses her arms.

"I'm sure there's nothing wrong, she's probably busy is all." Cynthia breathes.

"No, no. This isn't right." I bite at my nails anxiously.

Norwegian WoodWhere stories live. Discover now