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Gone.
She’s gone.
This can’t be happening again.
But it is. Luke can feel it.
He braces his hands against the fireplace mantel, his brain short-circuiting at the thought. This isn’t normal. Nothing about this is normal. Something happened to her.
Someone did something to her.
Glancing down, Luke traces a thumb across the tattoo on his palm, on that snap of connection he shares with Sal. Almost as if it can help him find her.
There’s a heaviness in his chest, a tug pulling him toward her. He just doesn’t know where she is. All he knows is he’s got to do something.
His phone goes off.
Fumbling, frantic, Luke pulls his cell from his back pocket. It’s not her name, but it’s the next best person. He exhales and slides the screen to answer.
“Seth.”
“Hey, man, I know I missed the game, but—”
Luke cuts him off. “I can’t find Sal.” He closes his eyes. Words he never thought he’d hear again. Words that threaten to take him to the fucking grave.
There’s a long pause. Luke wants his brother to tell him to cool his jets. To tell him that he’s overreacting.
Instead, there’s a hitch of Seth’s breath. His voice, tight and constricted, hits Luke’s ears like a balm. “I’m on my way.”
