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ChapterSeven
Damon rolled over and felt for Ariana.
Her side of the bed was empty.
Cold.
She’d gotten up some time ago. Probably unable to sleep because of Rita’s disappearance. Not that he could blame her. His own dreams had been plagued with images of what Boone could have done to her — locked her up somewhere, tied her up, even killed her.
The last thought made his blood turn to ice. It was a known fact that when a woman disappeared, it was usually the husband or boyfriend.
That had been the case with his own parents.
Was Boone guilty of the same crime? Or was Damon merely projecting the trauma of his past onto Rita’s situation?
The reminder of his mom’s horrible demise made his stomach lurch.
Rita’s disappearance brought back more than he wanted to think about. Some things never left you. Time definitely didn’t make them any easier.
Images of his mom swirled in his mind. She’d been the one person he’d been able to count on, and she’d been taken from him — in the most brutal way possible. By the one man who should’ve protected her, should have protected them.
Anger gripped him, squeezed his chest. Pulsated through his veins.
Thankfully, Cal Jones had gotten what he’d deserved in the end. His ‘suicide’ hadn’t been self-inflicted. No way. Damon’s dad wouldn’t have taken his own life. He’d received a dose of his own medicine when he was murdered.
It gave Damon more satisfaction than he’d ever admitted out loud, imagining the fear his father must’ve felt at the end. After what he’d done to his own wife — and so many others — he’d had it coming. It was better justice than the system could’ve ever doled out. Life in prison, or even death row, would’ve been too kind.
Damon splashed his face with cold water and shoved those thoughts aside. He needed to join Ariana downstairs and figure out their next step. With any luck, Lia would agree with him about reporting Boone’s threat to the police.
And if the police didn’t deal with him, Damon would. Just the thought of Boone threatening his wife made his pulse rush in his ears and lit a fire in his gut. Everything took on a red hue.
Breathe.
He struggled to take full, deep breaths. Everything caught in his chest.
Then he counted to ten. Twenty. All the way to a hundred.
This was getting him nowhere.
Damon stormed over to the window and looked across the street, his hands balling into fists.
Boone’s car was gone.
Good.
Now he and Ariana could have a pleasant morning without worrying about him. Well, as pleasant as possible, considering one of her best friends was missing.
He started to step away from the window, but something caught his attention.
Ariana’s car wasn’t in the driveway.
They hardly ever parked in the garage when the weather was nice. Crime was rare in the neighborhood — until this current mess, that is. Had she parked her car in there last night due to the stress?
He raced downstairs and flung open the door to the garage.
Empty.
He called her.
