Page 3 of Into The Green

"It was Beltane though," she shrugged.

"Yeah, well, fuck him," I said, not knowing the man in question, but outraged on principle.

"No, really," she said, shaking her head. "He's a wonderful person. Truly. A good soul. I'm not angry."

And she wasn't.

Most women I knew who said that, said it to save face. They pretended to not be angry, so no one knew that they were hurting. But Jade meant it. She wasn't angry or bitter or fearful of loving other men. Jade, I swear to all that was holy, had sugar water running through her veins. Everything about her was sweet.

"You know what, Jade?" I asked, tapping her knee with my toe.

"No, what?"

"I think I am in friend-love with you."

"You know what, Celestine," she said, smiling because she knew I hated the name, "I think I am in friend-love with you too."

TWO

Cece

"Shit. Shit shit shit," I cursed myself as I stomped through the torrential downpour rain we'd been having all day as I made my way to the police station. I was so stupid to wait so long to get help.

Three days.

What the hell had I been thinking?

Granted, Jade was a bit flaky at times. She didn't report all her moves to me, and she often spent a night out.

But not three whole days.

At the end of the second day, I should have contacted the police.

I guess I just didn't want to look stupid if she did show back up unharmed after having some kind of spiritual retreat or something. But, fact of the matter was, I had been living with her for the better part of four months, and she had never been gone for so long, not even when telling me she would be gone for a while.

The rain had soaked me through to my underwear, and I had to throw a dripping mass of my hair over my shoulder as I wrenched the station door open, cursing my car in new and inventive ways for choosing that particular day to crap out on me.

I was made to wait for half an hour before I was led over to a detective who took my somewhat wet picture of Jade, the only one I had. It was actually of the two of us on my birthday, but it was the only one I had of her. I gave a description and when I had last seen her and what she had been wearing when she'd left the apartment. I gave the detective my contact information and was informed he would be in touch.

I left feeling worse than when I had gone in.

Because I got the distinct impression that the detective wasn't overly concerned about a woman who was flighty by nature and could show up at any time.

But I knew, I knew deep down to my soul that something was wrong. She wasn't just at a retreat or holed up with a new lover. She would have come home. She would have contacted me, so I didn't worry.

I trudged up the staircase to our building, my heart sinking with each step I got closer to our apartment, knowing I would find it colder, emptier, without Jade around to warm and fill it, to balance out my cold and dark.

I unlocked the door and stepped in, pushing it closed before I looked up.

And the entire place was trashed. Furniture was tipped over; cushions were ripped open; plants were ripped from the pots they had been in.

And then I saw him.

As in, someone who definitely did not belong in my apartment.

As in, a stranger.

As in, someone who was rifling through a pile of paperwork on the kitchen counter.