Chapter 12:

Gone, Baby, Gone

John got out of the car and ran up the Evans family driveway. He pounded on the door urgently. Fresh out of rehab, John had made a beeline to Isabella's house from the airport. He'd been trying to call her for a month, but she wasn't answering his calls. She had surprised him by changing her phone number.

It had been a hard month for John, though he had finally come to terms with Lisa's death. He'd finally learned how to lay his guilt over her death to rest. Isabella disappearing into thin air left him with an all-too-familiar feeling of abandonment and confusion. He was surprised at the giant void Isabella's absence left in his life. He had been looking forward to coming home, clean and sober, and showing her that he was back to normal, the vivacious and fun-loving John Cena of days past. He never realized it, but he had come to depend on their friendship. She had been his crutch during his darkest days and it was something he knew he would never forget. He had become accustomed to having her around. The entire month, he had replayed every conversation in his head, every action during their last conversation. He honestly couldn't think of any reason why she would cut off all communication with him.

Finally, after he had been pounding for several minutes, Ruby opened the door. She was dressed in bright pink velour sweatpants and a white tank top. Her brown hair was tied back in a high ponytail. Her grey-green eyes were hardened and cold when they fell on John, who was taken aback by her demeanor.

"You have a lot of nerve showing up here," she told him angrily. "Haven't you and your friends done enough?"

"Ruby, I need to talk to Bella," John pleaded.

"She's not here," Ruby shot back at him angrily.

"Ruby, please..."

"What do you want me to do? I'm not lying to you - she isn't here. Nobody knows where she went." She sighed, the anger and stiffness in her stance deflating. "Haven't you watched the news recently?"

"No." He was being honest. Anything that could have been construed as remotely depressing was banned, seen as something that could have impeded his recovery.

"They found Trey a couple days ago," Ruby told him. The look in her eyes told him that there was no happy ending. John sucked in a breath and took off his Boston Bruins baseball cap and rubbed his forehead. "It took forever, but they found him."

"Jesus...I'm sorry to hear that," John sighed. He knew how empty and hollow the words sounded. Although he couldn't comprehend the feeling of a parent burying their child, John could relate to the feeling of loss.

"No one's seen Izzie since the funeral. She's been so upset, thanks to that douche-bag you call a friend..."

"I know," John sighed. "I'm not even going to defend him. He's a world-class asshole. He knows it, too."

Randy had picked John up from the airport. John had been able to tell right away that Randy had done something he wasn't supposed to. Randy had been talking fast, a clear indicator that he had done something he knew John wouldn't be happy about. John was already irritated because Randy had shown up in John's favorite car, but it was nothing compared to the rage he felt when Randy finally came clean about his run-in with Isabella. In all the years John and Randy had known each other, it was the first time they had been so angry at one another that they had come to blows. The words Randy used to refer to Isabella infuriated John. He had punched Randy, square in the jaw. Upset, Randy had left, murmuring angrily under his breath as he pushed his arms into the sleeves of his jacket. John shook his head, trying to push the memories out of his head.

"I had nothing to do with him, Ruby. Believe me. He acted alone."

"He threatened to make her life a living hell, John. He threatened to have her arrested. She was only doing what you asked her to do." He nodded. "He made her hand over the keys you gave her and he ran her out like she was some kind of burglar. He made her feel like a criminal."

"Do you know where she is, Ruby? I have to talk to her."

"No. I don't. I wish I did. She should be here with her family. Not me." The situation felt all too familiar with John. His heart ached for Isabella and her family. Before leaving for rehab, he had heard about the bombing and he noticed that she had been on edge, but she didn't talk to him about it. He supposed it had to do with her being sensitive to his problems. He knew that he would be beating himself up internally for a long time for being so self-absorbed. "I can't believe she'd run away like this. I thought she was better than that."

John didn't say anything, but he disagreed with the words Ruby spoke very strongly. He knew that Isabella was under a lot of stress with work, school, dealing with his problems and the situation with her brother. Something had to give. He knew she needed time to herself.

"I'll try and find her, but I'm going to need her new phone number," John told her. Ruby was reluctant, but she pulled her cell phone out of the back pocket of her pants and John programmed it into his phone. If she didn't answer the phone, he had no idea where to even begin looking. He was set to return to work in two weeks, so he knew that he had a small time frame to find her.

He thought about the places she could be and quickly realized that in all the time he had been around Isabella, he didn't really know anything about her outside of the fact that she went to school for music and worked at a coffee shop. He felt a pang of guilt for being a selfish bastard, for never once asking her anything personal about herself and making the effort to get to know her better. It was impossible for him to feel like he had done anything other than take in their friendship. He had been so caught up in his sorrow that he had never stopped to think that she could have problems, and he felt he should have. Everyone has problems. He felt dumb for assuming her life was all butterflies and rainbows. "I'll find her, Ruby," he assured her. "Tell them I'm sorry for their loss," he said, cocking his head. Ruby nodded, closing the door as John walked briskly back to his car.

He got into the driver's seat and slammed the door. "Jesus Christ, I've been a real asshole," John said to himself angrily. He started the car and pulled out of the driveway. Stopping at a red light at the end of the block, he wondered just how he was going to find her. It was like a needle in a haystack; he knew she could be anywhere. He pushed the defeatist feelings out of his mind. His tone was determined as he muttered to himself in the driver's seat. "I need to make things up to her. There's just no two ways about it. I have to find her."