“I need to find him.”
“Yeah. You and me both.”
thirty-eight
Jonah - Past
NOT SAFE.
Dex was gone.
I returned from the diner, and he was just gone. Roy said he was picking up some parts for the shop, but that was a lie. He was lying to me. Dex had lied to me. His bike wasn’t here. I might not know shit about cars, but I know you can’t pick up parts on a fucking motorcycle.
“Where is he really?” I asked, intending to sound as stern as possible, but my voice didn’t listen. Emotion, raw and vulnerable and disgusting, laced my words.
“Told you.”
“I don’t believe you.”
He grunted in response, arms crossed over his chest as he watched me from the desk.
“Who is he with?”
Silence.
“What did he say he was going to do?”
Roy’s eyes flicked from mine to the coffee in my hand and back.
“Did he at least say when he’d be back?”
“Jesus, kid.” Roy grabbed a handful of tissues from the desk and marched over to me, prying the cup from my vise-like grip. Only then did I register the wetness on my trembling fingers.
I let him take the cup. My breath was coming in short and fast. I tried to steady it. When he attempted to take my hand, I yanked it back, snatching the tissues from him instead to wipe upthe spilled coffee. My skin was pink underneath from the hot liquid, but I hardly felt it. All I felt was the heat inside me, scalding, boiling, burning me from the inside out. I didn’t know how to let it out without Dex.
I paced, watching the empty lot outside the shop window. Waiting. Listening. Roy went back to the desk, but I still felt the weight of his eyes on me. I hated it. It made my skin feel too tight, too itchy. If he were as concerned as he was pretending to be, he would just tell me where Dex was.
Rather than writhe under his relentless supervision, I pushed the door open and stepped into the cool air, taking my panic with me out into the lot, and yeah, maybe I’d scare off the customers, but who the fuck cared? Dex was gone.
I pulled my phone from my pocket and called him until the line rang out, and then I called him again. Stupid fucking bastard lied to me about that too.
Heat bubbled over inside me, rising up my throat. It made my jaw tighten and my vision blur. I ran my fingers through my hair, tugged at it, tugged harder. The pain across my scalp forced some of the heat to recede. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t fucking breathe.
My back thumped against the brick of the shop’s outer wall, the leather probably getting scraped up as I slid down the rough surface until my ass hit the cold ground. I still yanked at handfuls of hair over my scalp.
What could I do? What if he was hurt? What if he was in trouble?
I couldn’t go to him. I didn’t know where he was. Even if I did, how would I get there? My vision blurred further, and even though I tugged at my hair until the strands came free, it wasn’t enough anymore.
“Hey,” a voice spoke to me softly, like he was trying not to spook a feral animal. Roy had followed me outside. I didn’t want himnear me. Didn’t want him to look at me. I wanted only one person, and he wasn’t here. He wasn’t here.
Every breath burned as I inhaled, unable to hold it in for a moment before I was chasing the next one, and the next. Too much. Not enough. Dex.
A warm hand rested on my shoulder, and I pulled away as if struck by it. “No,” I choked out around a sob. Was I crying?
“Shit,” Roy grumbled, hovering over me without touching me again, clearly uncertain what to do, and I didn’t have answers for him.
“Dex,” I choked out again.
