Page 134 of What We Burn

I pocket the note. Grab the chicken parm. Let myself out the front door and lock it behind me.

The drive home is quiet. The data runs behind my eyes. Fenrir is hunting. My head hurts.

And we still don’t talk about my father.

THIRTY-SIX

HOLDEN

“Why the hell are they still there?”

My phone is in my hand before I’m fully awake. Sage’s tracker is still at her apartment. I stare at the dot, waiting for it to shift. It doesn’t.

I called Eli twice last night. Sage once. Texted both of them. No answer.

For hours, I told myself they were just sorting their shit out. Eli said he was with her, that they’d be back late. And that would have been fine if the tracker wasn’t showing them at her fucking apartment. The same building where some asshole got to her and strung her up by the throat.

I spent all night oscillating between showing up there and listening for the front door.

When it finally opened sometime after two, I was out of bed and halfway down the stairs before I registered the footsteps were too quick. Too light.

Milo looked up at me from the foyer, one hand still on the door.

“Detective,” he said, pressing the other to his chest. “I never knew you felt that way about little old me.”

“Where’s Sage?”

His smile slipped just enough to show me he understood.

“She’s fine. She’s with Eli.”

“At her apartment.”

He grimaced. “I know. Not my first choice for a romantic evening, but Eli isn’t all rainbows and unicorns like yours truly.” He kicked off his shoes. “They’re probably just talking and crying it out. Or they could be committing murder, having kinky sex, or doing an exciting combination of all four. Either way, barging in at this hour probably won’t improve it. But we can spoon if it’ll help you feel better. I don’t mind being the little one.”

I told him to go fuck himself and went back to bed.

I never really slept.

Now morning light is cutting through the curtains, and the tracker still hasn’t moved.

I call Eli again.

Nothing.

Then Sage.

Straight to voicemail.

The dot tells me where the choker is. It doesn’t tell me whether Sage is still wearing it.

Someone could have taken it off her and left it at the apartment. Someone could have taken their phones. Eli could be unconscious on the floor while I lie here convincing myself silence means privacy.

I’m done guessing.

I throw back the covers, drag on a pair of jeans, and grab my keys.

If they’re asleep, they can yell at me in person.