My body went limp, like I no longer had control over it. I fought to keep my eyes open, to keep moving… But no matter how loudly my brain screamedfight, my body refused to cooperate.
The last thing I remembered was being dragged out of the bathroom, through the back door at the end of the hallway, and into the dark, snowy night.
Liam
I glanced at my watch. Five minutes, ten seconds. Maybe Molly thought I was joking, but I absolutely wasn’t. Her time was up. At the very least, I’d go to the door to check on her.
I made my way to the women’s restroom. An older woman walked out, eyeing me strangely.
“Sorry,” I said quickly. “I just need to check on my date. She’s pregnant, and she’s been in there a while.”
The woman looked even more confused. “Uh—there’s no one in there.”
“What do you mean there’s no one in there?”
“Honey, all the stalls are wide open. I was the only one in there the whole time,” she explained.
I slammed the door open and rushed inside.
She was right. There wasn’t a single person in the restroom.
I pulled my phone from my pocket, dialing Jace.
“Hello?”
“She’s gone.”
Chapter 32 – Liam
I ran from the bathroom, scanning the restaurant. Maybe Molly came out and I didn’t see her. I looked at everything—the couples sitting at their tables, the wait staff—then I made my way into the kitchen. Nothing. No Molly.
The owner followed me into the kitchen, where I was clearly out of place.
“Sir, can I help you?”
“Did you see a woman come through here? Sandy blonde hair, very pregnant,” I said, doing my best to describe Molly as everyone stared at me like I was a madman.
“No. Nobody by that description came through here, sir.”
I ran back to the main dining area, noticing the restaurant’s surveillance system. “Where all do you have cameras?” I asked, frantically pointing to the one closest to us.
“Um—there’s one out front. One in the kitchen. One on the back door,” he said.
“Where’s the back door?”
“Right next to the restrooms.”
“Fuck! Show me all the footage you have from the camera aiming at the back door,” I demanded, not taking no for answer.
The man led me into a small office off the kitchen. He quickly brought his computer to life, pulling up the necessary software.
“Go back six minutes,” I ordered.
He clicked back the exact amount of time I’d asked him to. We both sat there, watching as a man dragged Molly’s limp body through the back door.
My knees went weak. I felt like throwing up, crying, screaming—all of it. Every emotion I could possibly have was coursing wildly through my body.
We sat there a moment longer, searching the rest of the footage—nothing.
