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That afternoon, Cole, Crash, and Red Dog returned from the run they had made. They walked into the clubhouse. Crash and Red Dog stopped at the bar. Mack was sitting there with a couple of guys.
Cole headed to his room.
“She’s not there,” Mack said quietly, sipping his drink.
Cole paused and looked back at him. He looked from Mack to the other guys. He walked slowly back and stood next to Mack. “What do you mean?”
“She left. Called a cab this morning.” Mack turned on his barstool to look at Cole. “Guess she wanted to get back to her life. Probably had enough of playing the bad girl.”
Cole lunged at Mack.
Crash jumped in front of him and pushed him back, while Red Dog grabbed his shoulders from behind, restraining him.
“What the fuck did you do?” Cole shouted at Mack.
Mack stared him down. “I didn’t do a damn thing. She went back to her life. What? You didn’t see this coming? She didn’t fit in here. We all saw it.”
Cole shook off Red Dog’s hold and shoved Crash away. He headed upstairs. Opening the door to his room, he was half hoping it was all a joke, that he’d find her sitting on the bed reading a magazine, waiting for him.
The room was empty. He looked around. No trace of her. No note. Nothing.
He sunk into the mattress and leaned his arms on his knees. He shook his head. It didn’t make any sense. She said she didn’t want to leave. Did she mean it? Did this life frighten her? Could he blame her? Isn’t he the one that told her this wouldn’t last? That she didn’t belong? So, why did this bother him so much?
She didn’t say goodbye.
He could find her, track her down… and then it dawned on him. In all these days they’d spent together, he didn’t even get her last name. How could that be possible? He’d never asked her last name.
She was gone. He’d never be able to find her.
