And now she was in my boyfriend’s room half-naked.
A small surge of anger-fueled bravery kicked in. I pushed past her.
She made a leisurely laughing noise as she fell back into the wall, like this was all hilarious to her in slow motion.
And there he was.
I don’t think I would have truly believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. But there was Jason. He was in nothing but his underwear, sleeping on top of the bedspread.
I stood there dumbfounded for a moment before I darted to the mattress and grabbed his shoulder. “Get up!” I shook him. “Jason, wake up!”
He groaned into the pillow.
Tucker jumped onto the bed and started licking his face. Jason didn’t even push him off.
I looked around, mouth open, tears filling my eyes. A bottle of bourbon sat on the nightstand. Two glasses.
He must be shit-faced, I thought with disgust. There was no way he could sleep through this otherwise.
Was that what had happened? He was upset with me so he got wasted and slept with Lola?
The finality of the situation smacked me in the face. How was this happening? How? None of it made sense.
“You should probably go,” Lola slurred from behind me.
I didn’t need more prodding. I’d seen enough.
I turned and left without looking at her. She clicked the door closed and Tucker pulled at his leash back toward the room the whole way to the elevator as I dragged my luggage behind me, gasping.
I burst from the smoky casino and walked vaguely in the direction that I’d come in my Uber from the airport. When I felt like my lungs couldn’t give me the air I needed to continue, I stopped at a closed cafe on the strip and sat at one of their dirty patio tables. I blocked everyone. Zane, Jessa, Ernie—Jason. I didn’t want anyone trying to talk me out of what I knew I’d seen—or telling me more. I knew enough.
Then I sobbed into the phone to Kristen.
She told me to come stay with her. She said Josh was going to murder him. She told me to get off the streets of Vegas at 1:00 in the morning and that I was too good for him and I deserved better.
I didn’t want better. I wanted him.
I was alone, homeless, and devastated. And now I was adrift again, waves crashing over me, water filling my mouth.
Chapter 40
Jason
♪ About Today | The National
I woke up like I was coming out of a coma. Layers of unconsciousness peeled themselves back, one at a time.
I probably shouldn’t have taken that Ambien with bourbon, but I’d already had one glass when Zane showed up with the pills. I’d needed a drink after three Red Bulls and the conversation with Sloan, and frankly I’d forgotten I’d promised to take the damn thing.
I looked between the two glasses on my nightstand for the one that had water and not whiskey in it and gulped it down. Then I felt around groggily for the hotel phone and dialed Sloan, rolling away from the window and the blinding light coming in from the crack in the curtain.
It went straight to voicemail.
Man, that Ambien was no joke. I’d been knocked out without even getting under the damn covers. I didn’t even remember getting undressed. Hell, I didn’t even remember getting on the bed.
The wireless hotel phone rang in my hand. I rubbed my eyes and hit the Answer button. “What’s up?”
“Have you talked to Sloan?” It was Zane.
I scratched my beard. “Not today. Why?”
“I’m on my way up, open your door. Sloan showed up last night and Lola was in your room.”
I bolted up straight. “What?!”
“It’s not good news. I’ll be there in a second.”
I leapt off the bed and jumped into pants.
Zane pounded from the outside and I ran to let her in. She barged in talking. “I was at the breakfast buffet and Courtney told me. Lola came down last night. She was in Jessa’s room, and Sloan was knocking on your door. You must have left the adjoining door between your rooms unlocked because Lola came in and answered it.”
She grabbed the knob and sure enough, the door on my side creaked open into the room.
Fuck, I could have done anything last night and not remembered it. I was half-drugged on sleeping pills and whiskey.
I dove for the phone and dialed Sloan again and it went to voicemail. Mailbox full.
I moved to the connecting door between our rooms and pounded on Jessa’s inner door. “Jessa! Open up!”
She opened it, still half-asleep. I could see Lola passed out on the bed behind her. She was wearing nothing but one of my merch sweatshirts and underwear. Jesus Christ, was this what Sloan had come home to?
“Did you let Lola in my fucking room last night?” I asked.
Jessa pushed the side of her pink hair up and yawned. “Yeah. Some crazy bitch was banging on your door at one in the morning.”
“That crazy bitch was Sloan. What the fuck were you thinking?”
Jessa’s eyes went wide. “It was Sloa— Oh, shit. I…dude, it was loud. We thought it was an emergency. Lola tried waking you up first, but you were knocked out. She kicked your bed and everything.”
I didn’t let her finish. I slammed the door in her face.
“Shit!” I paced. “I have to find her. We had a fight, we weren’t okay.”
Zane was calm. “Any idea where she might have gone? Any family in Vegas? Friends?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so.” Panic descended on me like black flies, swarming.
I ran all over the room, tripping over my shoes, putting on a shirt and socks, holding the phone to my ear with my shoulder, calling her voicemail uselessly. She had to be out of her mind. Fuck, what would I think if I’d seen that?
“Okay,” Zane said. “We’ll start calling hotels. I’ll see if Courtney can go to the airport and look for her there. You stay where you are in case she comes back.”
If she was in the city, we’d never find her. It was Vegas—there were literally thousands of hotels. She might have gotten a car and driven back to California. She’d go to Kristen’s, but I didn’t have Kristen’s or Josh’s number because my fucking phone was in a million pieces. I couldn’t remember where they lived either, I’d only been there once.
The phone rang and I dove for it. It was Ernie. “Did you really stomp a fucking fog machine to death last night? What’s next? Trashed hotel rooms?”
“Ernie, I can’t find Sloan.” I dropped into a chair and put my palms to my eyelids trying to catch my breath. I told him the whole story. I hadn’t thought to call him, thinking there was nothing he could do, but he offered to track down Kristen and go over there and look.
At least I felt like something was happening. I didn’t even know if Sloan was texting me or leaving me voicemails because I didn’t have my cell.
I was afraid to move in case someone got a lead on her, so instead I paced like a caged animal, dialing her number, hoping one of the calls wouldn’t go straight to voicemail.
I was pulsing with anxiety. It was almost unbearable. I had a deep, gnawing claustrophobia about the walls around me.
She had no house, no job. She could disappear into the world without a trace, and I wouldn’t know where to find her.