She hadn’t made it three steps when his croaky voice stopped her again.
“You won’t find him down there either,” 2A said, thumping his cane.“He tore out of here in that truck of his like a bat out of hell.I couldn’t hear my TV program because of it.”
Billy had left?
Left, left?
She took the remaining stairs two at a time.The sheet clung to her legs, trying to trip her.The first-floor lobby area was empty as she rushed across it, 300-count polyester whooshing all around her.
She hit the door going practically full speed and lurched out onto the sidewalk.
The truck was gone.The parking spot on the curb was empty.
A cry left her lips as her chest squeezed.Oh, God.What was happening?
Down the street, two guys walking into The Ruckus whistled at her.Feeling pain rifling through her, she slowly lifted her head.She turned on them like a vengeful banshee, hair whipping in the wind and let out a shriek.Their eyes popped and both muscle-bound bikers hurried into the bar.
Roxie’s fingers curled, balling the sheet right over her heart.
Where had he gone?Was he just blowing off steam?
“When I leave this time, I won’t be back.”
His words echoed in her ears, spurring her into motion again.Ignoring 2A’s concerns about quiet, she raced back up the stairs, feet pounding.She grabbed the keys Charlie had given her in case she needed to show the empty apartment.She opened the second-floor rental, her hands shaking, and slapped at the light switch.
She quickly scanned the apartment.There were furniture and kitchen appliances.It was a furnished unit, but she was looking for anything personal.Anything of Billy’s.She searched the living room before moving on to the bathroom and then the bedroom.
His duffel bag was nowhere to be found.
She bit her lip.
He couldn’t leave now.She’d known he eventually would, but not now.They couldn’t leave things this way.
Feeling panicked, she wandered back to the nondescript living room.It held nothing of his, but why would it?He’d been ready for this.He’d been ready to hit that door.
There was nothing left to show he’d ever been here.
Except…
She went still when she saw something on the floor beside the sofa.She took a step in that direction, her knees feeling wobbly.She knelt down, the sheet pooling in a white puddle against the carpeting.
“My boots.”
Her favorite ones.The ones she’d thought she’d ruined.
She gathered up the black leather stompers.Holding them carefully, she turned them this way and that.A sound left the back of her throat.They were polished and flawless.She ran her thumb over the heel.She couldn’t tell it had ever been broken.
He’d fixed it.
She took a shuddering breath and hugged the boots to her chest as she stood.It took a moment before she was able to move again.When she made her way back up to her apartment, she was on autopilot.Once inside, she sank onto her own sofa.
His words kept playing through her head.Painful words.Honest words.He’d stood by what he’d said.There’d been no apology.
But there had been a ring of truth, one she couldn’t ignore.Had she been the one who’d turned on him?
She stroked the boots she was still holding like a lifeline.
How was she supposed to process this?What was she supposed to do?
