“Let’s try the other bedrooms first.”
We check the other two bedrooms and the family bathroom. The beds haven’t been slept in. We go downstairs. No one is in the hall. The kitchen is deserted, and so is the lounge, although a few empty beer bottles, a half-empty bottle of vodka, and some shot glasses are strewn about. I frown. The fallout isn’t as much as I expected.
“Where is everyone?” I ask.
Six of us were here last night. Where have Rufus and our friends gone? The cars. I drag Kian to the front door and fling it open. My jaw drops. The cars—including mine—have gone.
I go onto the porch and step forwards. Kian tugs me back. He points at our bare feet. I wince. Yeah, okay, the gravel would have hurt.
“Thanks,” I grunt.
“You’re welcome.”
“Where are they?”
“No idea. I’m as in the dark as you are. And would you mind not raising your voice so often? Someone’s driving an ice pick into my brain.”
Mine too. I return inside with Kian trailing behind me.
“Where are our shoes?” I ask.
“Maybe in the bedroom?”
I hadn’t noticed them, but I wasn’t looking for shoes. We check the lounge again.
“Where’s my laptop bag?” My pulse quickens.
Kian rubs his head. “You had it last night, didn’t you? About the last thing I remember is you sitting in a corner on your laptop.”
Rufus kept trying to convince me to put it away and join in their fun. He gave me a shot of vodka at the same time. I remember drinking it to get him off my case. Neither my laptop nor its bag is where I was sitting. Or anywhere else in the room for that matter.
“Let’s take a nap,” Kian says. “We’ll be able to make more sense of this mess when our heads have cleared.”
“Together?”
He lifts our right wrists. “Unless the key is in your pocket, yes.”
I check my pockets, but I come up empty. “Do you have the key?”
“Why would I have it?” He makes a show of pulling the lining out of his pockets so I see he doesn’t have it. “Sleep?”
I sigh. He’s right. I will be able to think clearer once my head has stopped pounding. “We should have some water first.”
“Good idea. There should be some paracetamol in the kitchen as well.”
Getting glasses, filling them with water, and finding the paracetamol is awkward, thanks to us being cuffed together. It wouldn’t be so bad if Rufus had cuffed my left hand to Kian’s right or vice versa. But right to right? Rufus had to make things as awkward as fucking possible, didn’t he? Come to think of it, all my friends must have been involved. We didn’t get upstairs and into bed on our own.
We drink, take paracetamol, and climb the stairs. As we get into bed, the piece of paper I’d felt earlier flutters in the breeze created by moving the quilt. It’s folded in half and has my name on it. I snatch it off the bedside table and unfold it.
“What is it?” Kian asks.
“A note.”
“What does it say?”
I clear my throat, which feels rough as sandpaper. “Dear Jett. Enjoy your weekend off. We’ll come back for you on Sunday evening. Rufus.”
Chapter2
