I attempted to chuckle, but I think I was panicking.
“I’m going to see my bedroom,” I said, leaving my bag with Iris. “We can’t stay here, but I just need to see something.”
“Beau, maybe?—”
I turned down the hall to the last room on the left and all the air from my lungs escaped. A photo of Nash and Iris hung on the wall with a big X on it. This was new and hadn’t been here when the cops and Valencia were here. I took my phone out of my pocket, my shaky hands making opening it difficult. I opened my text thread with Nash.
Me: I need you, please.
I shook as I typed the message, sending him my location so he could find me. Taking a picture of the evidence, I tried to keep calm but it was like everything from the past few months was crashing down on me, making it hard to breathe. I walked down the hall slowly trying to get my body working, needing to get out of here immediately. Valencia and Iris were right, I was a fucking idiot for coming back here.
“Iris, we are leaving. Now,” I said, trying to steady my voice.
I looked out to the living room and Iris was no longer there.
“Sweets,” I called out again, thinking she must have gone to the restroom.
The bathroom was empty. Something was wrong. My heart pounded as I went back to the living room to go outside.
“Baby, we need to leave. Nash is here for us,” I said, hoping to see her pop out of somewhere.
I dialed the front desk wondering if she had walked out.
“I thought by now you would have realized you were mine.” A man my age was in the middle of my destroyed living room.
“Where is she?” I looked around the room.
Still no sign of her anywhere.
“You are mine!” he yelled.
I looked back at him, taking in his disheveled look, realizing I knew who he was.
“Scout?”
“You remember me?” His entire demeanor changed.
He looked completely different, he wasn’t the same man I had once done porn with, looking underweight and haggard. When we first started camming, we would collab every so often and then one day he wanted more and I couldn’t give him that.
“How could I forget you?” I attempted a light, cheery tone.
“You did.” He was growing angry. “You rejected me and left me. I patiently waited, hoping you would see that we were made for each other.”
“Scout, I told you,” I said softly. “I didn’t see you like that. I saw you as a friend, I had no roman?—”
“I remember!” he yelled. “But you’re lying, I see you. You’re unhappy. You hate this.”
“Scout.” I held my hands out. “Can you tell me where my friend is and then we can leave to sit and talk?”
“She doesn’t matter anymore,” he snarled. “I’m the only person who matters. Me.”
He hit his chest and I noticed the knife in his hand.
“Ok, Scout. You’re the only one who matters, but do we need to get the police involved if they don’t find my friend?” My heart was pounding so hard I was getting dizzy. “Her brother lives here and he was expecting her.”
“Either way she’s seen my face,” he growled.
“Scout, what’s your plan? Because at this point, it looks like you want to get caught.” I walked closer to him.
