“Maybe I should’ve warned you,” he confesses. “But you haven’t been around. Thought it’d be good for you to get out and be back around your people.”
I bite my tongue. Tristan and Webber aren’t my people. Neither are Sylvia and Everleigh, though Ev and I have had a few random conversations because of all the time I spent with Violet at their apartment.
Giggling ensues again. I look over my shoulder, but it’s too dark to really make anything out. Sebastian has to get back to seeking, but I have to know. “Is she here?”
“What do you think?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking, Sebastian.” I forgot how annoying he can be sometimes. Or maybe I’m just keyed up and still tense from Tommy. From being back in this apartment. From wondering how closemyperson is.
“Seek and find out,” is all he says in this mystifying voice before he walks away. It irritates me even more when two people shove past me, one of them driving a shoulder into my arm. I’m not surprised to catch a glimpse of Webber and Tristan speed walking their way into the kitchen when I glance over my shoulder.
I’m tempted to reach out and drag Webber—I know it was him trying to piss on my territory—back by the collar to get an answer as to what his problem is, but I’m a thousand percent positive it has to do with Violet. I’m not surprised he doesn’t give me a chance to react. Ever since I’ve known him, Webber has been selfish in all the ways that count. Hell, Tristan, too. Now is no different, though I don’t think either has the right to judge me for how I’ve acted when both of them lost their girls not that long ago.
My cousin’s words ring in my head.
Seek and find out.
If Violet were in this apartment hiding, where would she be? I pocket my phone and roll my bottom lip into my mouth.Where would Violet hide?It’d be somewhere clever, I know that much. She’s not a hide behind the shower curtain kind of girl. She’d put thought in it. She’d consider the places other people would go and then she’d make her decision.
Making my way back to the kitchen, I give it as much of a glance as I can, finding that Webber and Tristan aren’t thereafter all. I don’t know where they zoomed off to, but it’s hard making anything out, so I mentally run through the layout of the apartment. Unless Violet turned herself into a human pretzel to fit into one of the cabinets, she’s not in here.
She wouldn’t do that, even if she is flexible enough.
I walk down the hallway, figuring Sebastian has the living area covered. If he happens to find her first, I’m shit out of luck. I like to think he’d realize it’s her and wouldn’t put his lips on her mouth, but I can’t be certain. Everything is so different, so fucked-up.
I need to get the images of my cousin being lip-locked with the girl of my dreams out of my head before the drywall around me crumbles from sheer mind force.
I bypass the other rooms until I’m at mine. Deep down, I don’t think she’d hide anywhere but in my space. Maybe it’s self-centered to think, but it’s where I would go if I were her. If my heart was broken over being told to fuck off multiple times by the only person I wanted, I’d find their space and wrap myself inside of it.
The issue, though, is there aren’t many hiding spots in my room. It’s bare beyond the few pieces of furniture. It’s quiet as I make my way in. I try my best to make sure I’m light on my feet. My shoes don’t even squeak. If she is in here, I don’t want her to hear me coming. I want to catch her off guard. I want her heart hammering over me like mine is right now. Thump, thump, thumping in a way that shows our love for each other is explosive and endless andelectric.
I run my hand over the bedspread. It seems flat, not like someone could be hiding underneath it. I feel around next to the dresser and leave checking under the bed as my last resort.
Making it into the bathroom, I investigate the usual places. Behind the shower curtain. Underneath the sink, but it’s as tightof a space as the kitchen cabinets would be. I feel around the built-in closet where towels and wash rags go.
Nothing.
I can’t believe I’m doing this.
Searching through the apartment like a goddamn teenager on New Year’s Eve. Maybe I should’ve stayed home. Maybe she’s not even here. What kind of fool would I look like if I came across another girl and had to kiss her?
Yeah, it wouldn’t happen.
I’m certain I know Violet well enough to notice her breath and the feel of her skin. A single finger running down her arm, and I’d know it’s her.
Hope blossoms in me like it did when I set forth down the hallway. I slowly walk back into the room. There’s only one last place to check. The walk-in closet. Aside from trash bags filled with my belongings, I never put anything else in there.
I decide it’ll be quick and easy to check before heading back out to find Sebastian and tell him how dumb this is. Shouldn’t he be in front of the TV playing his video games? Or, hell, maybe this is a real-life simulation of one and he gets off on it. Fuck if I know.
The closet door gives off a soft creak. My feet are feathers as I amble my way in. My foot hits one of my trash bags, and that’s when I hear it. An intake of breath. A faint nervous gasp. It ignites a flurry of nerves inside of me.
It can’t be, can it?
I’m hoping, praying,beggingit’s Violet. I’m not close enough yet to make out if it is her, but fuck, it better be. After all, she’s the reason I ultimately decided to come tonight. She’s the person I want to see most. The one I’ve been missing in a way I can’t effectively describe. The one I need to grovel my apologies to.
I reach down at the bag closest to me and feel around it. It’s even darker in the closet than it is in the rest of the apartment thanks to the lack of windows.
My hand glides along the cool material of the plastic bag. That’s it. No human flesh. No skin. No warmth. I walk further into the space, knowing there’s a laundry basket somewhere with another bag. My knee bumps into the bag first. I do the same as I did before, feel around for her.
