He hung his head, and every muscle in his arm tensed.
“I will get out of here,” I continued. “Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but there will come a moment when you least expect it where I’ll escape … And you know my past, Ethan. I have no problem killing you if it comes to that. I could bash in your pretty red head and never bat an eye. I’d be able to carry on without an ounce of empathy for it. But you? You’d walk around with regret every day, more than the load your carrying now. I couldn’t imagine the daily pain you’d face if you ever hurt me.”
A growl roared from him before he slammed his fist through a cabinet. Knowing I got a reaction out of him brought a menacing smile to my face. Everything I’d said had only been a half-lie. The truth was, I may feel empathy because it found me before.
Ethan stormed toward me, grabbed my hair in his fist, and yanked my head back, his chest heaving. “You know what your problem is, Jett?” Despite every strand of hair ripping from my skull, I sucked in my lips and narrowed my eyes to match his internal strength. “You forget, you and me? We’re one and the same.” Ethan released his hold and returned to the kitchen counter, and my held breath returned in short, harsh shudders. “Don’t underestimate me.”
Afterward, dinner was silent.
Ethan spoon-fed me tomato soup he heated over the stove from a can. I’d thought about refusing to eat, but I needed strength. I needed to get out of here, and the only way was to take care of my health and eat the food he offered while planning my escape.
After the entire pot of tomato soup was gone, Ethan left me waiting at the table and returned to the kitchen counter. One by one, he hand-washed every spoon, spatula, and dish, drying and placing each item in their designated spot. He scrubbed counters, the table, and wiped down the stove before washing and drying his hands for the third time.
I never took Ethan to be so meticulous—a clean freak. But then again, I never really knew the man at all.
Once Ethan cleaned the kitchen area to perfection, he grabbed me by the arm and lifted me out of the chair. I walked in front of him down the stairs and back to the bedroom. Again, my ankles were bound, and I was left alone.
Hours passed, and the night only grew colder and crueler.
Without Ollie, my heart felt like December in the middle of spring.
A tear ran down my cheek, and it was warm and welcoming.
At some point, I must have fallen asleep because the next time my eyes opened, Ethan was lying next to me with a damp cloth to my forehead as he hushed melodically. My body trembled inside the only warmth of the hoodie, refusing to use him as a security blanket like I once did. Ethan would be warm, but I’d rather freeze.
“I’M WORRIED ABOUT YOU, man. They’ll find her. Just come home,” Travis rambled on for, what it seemed like, the hundredth time into the mobile he had given me earlier. He’d mentioned I would need it for work.
I didn’t need a fucking phone.
I needed Mia and not this bloody picture, the polaroid picture I’d been holding in my jittery hands. The first picture we’d ever taken together.
Her. I need her—all of her.
“I’m okay,” I lied. “I’ll ring you in the morning with an update.” Another lie. And there was nothing to slam shut with the stupid mobile to ease my frustration. So, I pressed my finger into the red button harder than what was necessary before throwing it over the bed in the motel room.
I refused to walk into our home without her. I’d imagined the day we’d walk through the front door of our home so many times, and it wouldn’t be the same if she weren’t by my side.
I couldn’t sit still, repeatedly pacing the motel room with a rented car waiting in the car park. Every precious second was wasted without looking for her, and though it was almost midnight, I still shoved a hoodie over my head, swiped the keys off the dresser, and walked out the door without a destination or solid clue as to where she could be.
The drive was pointless, but my mind couldn’t stop replaying every interaction from today that lead me here: the smile Mia had on her face after waking, saying she was ready for a lifetime of mornings and coffee in bed. The lovemaking shortly after had been proof she couldn’t imagine anything different than the two of us. Mia wasn’t a liar. Her head may play tricks on her, but her eyes and heart were honest. She’d promised to meet me. She wouldn’t have left me. Something was wrong.
After she didn’t show, I’d spent hours checking every room, looking over every floor, talking with Jake, Tyler, questioning every fucking person inside the walls of Dolor. Lynch had been pre-occupied with a suicide in a classroom, and a part of me believed Mia’s disappearance and the suicide all happening on the same day wasn’t a coincidence.
It had been fifteen hours since I’d seen her, ten hours since anyone had seen her.
Where are you, love?
I’d driven through the black night around the surrounding towns of Guildford before stopping the car on the side of the road. One second, I was sitting inside the vehicle, the next, I was standing over the wet pavement, unable to breathe. Headlights rushed past, people trying to get home, but I was lost without Mia, the only home I’d ever known. Each car that flew by couldn’t see I was standing here suffocating, and I kicked the tire before crumbling to the ground with my back against the wet vehicle. “I don’t know what to do. Tell me what to do,” I shouted to no one. Zeke wasn’t here to shove the broken pieces back at me.
It took less than five minutes to realize sitting out here in the cold rain wasn’t going to get me closer to her, and less than five minutes to know I couldn’t do this on my own.
I got back into the car and dialed Jinx, the security guard from Dolor, who became a good mate over the two-year sentence. He answered on the third ring, music blaring in the background with a fog of conversation. “Who’s this?”
“Masters. I need a favor.”
“Whoa, Oliver Masters. I didn’t think I’d hear from you so soon.”
“I need Lynch’s address.” There was no time for chit chat. I’d seen him earlier at Dolor, and we’d exchanged numbers. For hours, he’d helped me turn Dolor upside down. How was the entire world able to move on with their lives knowing Mia was missing? How was he at a fucking party at this time?
“Yeah, okay. Been there once to deliver something. Foxenden Court off Chertsey. Flat 8. Don’t tell him I—”
I hung up and steered back onto the road, making my next left over the slick street.
Ten minutes later, I pulled up to the red brick building and pushed the gear into park. Rain fell over me as I ran through the door and up the stairs, wasting no time. My body shivered from either the cold, impatience, or anger … I couldn’t tell anymore, only pounded my fist over the door of Lynch’s flat, most likely waking the entire building.
Lynch opened the door in his plaid pajamas with a baseball bat in one hand. “Oliver,” he gritted his teeth, “It’s been a long day. I don’t have the energy for this, and how did you find my address?”
“Your daughter is fucking missing!” I pushed my way through his door and into the flat. It was small and minimal, and I spun around as he dropped the bat beside the door frame and ran the back of his hands over his eyes. “Wake up, Lynch. I’m not leaving until I get answers.”