“So, you haven’t seen her leave since I dropped her home last night?” I asked.
The lady shook her head.
“Fuck. That was ten-thirty last night.”
“Shit,” Lottie cursed under her breath. Mason dragged a hand up and down her arm, pulling her closer.
“We’re gonna have to kick the door down,” I concluded. My mind refusing to believe what was likely the truth—Shiloh was in there, unconscious or…No! Shut up. You’re not going there.
God, let her be okay. Let her be okay.
Mason didn’t hesitate and I jumped out of the way as he pounded his foot into the door.
Nothing happened and he limped away with a growl.
“Someone else go,” he gritted out, “I think I just tore something.”
Jae stepped up, twisting the handle, and falling forwards into Shiloh’s apartment.
“It wasn’t locked,” Cole muttered with shock.
Fuck. Why wasn’t it locked?
“You didn’t fucking check if it was locked?!” I yelled, pushing past Jae.
I raced through the living room, straight to her bedroom.
“Shy! Where are you?!”
I glanced around the empty space, stepping into her bathroom.
She wasn’t here.
Jae dropped down, looking under her bed and coming to stand with the shake of his head as Cole shook his head from the entrance to her closet.
Sweat beaded on my hairline, and I looked around the space again, like she might miraculously appear.
My eyes caught on the bathtub.
Jae followed my gaze, “What?”
“She’s afraid of the bathtub,” I breathed. Tears threatened and I tried to swallow past the lump in my throat. The tub was filled nearly to the top. I felt the water, praying it was still warm, but it wasn’t. The pair of my sleep clothes that she was wearing last night when I kissed her goodnight were in a pile beside the tub.
I stood, staring back at her bedroom for some clue as to where she went. Her phone was on her nightstand, plugged in like she’d likely left it before going to sleep. Her book on the floor, the covers pulled back off of her bed.
This doesn’t make any sense.
I slammed the heel of my palm against my head.
None of this made any sense.
Where the hell is she?
“I don’t understand,” Lottie spoke, sitting on the edge of Shiloh’s bed with tears on her cheeks. “Where would she go without her car or that bike? And without her phone.”
I raced over to her bedside table and ripped open the drawer. Part of me wanted to cry with relief that her gun was still inside, the other part wanted to scream with frustration.
I refused to believe that Shiloh would have left me again like this. Which meant only one thing. Rage ripped through me so hard and fast I couldn’t stop myself before my fist was breaking through her bedroom wall.
