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Sloane
I wake up the next morning and stretch my arms in the air, letting out a loud sigh. A contented sigh. One where you just let out every stress and let your body bask in the after-sex glow that seems to radiate throughout your insides. My limbs feel like Jell-O, and I could be very happy just lying here in my bed, reliving every salacious moment I spent with Max last night.
Good Lord, I want more.
Is this how it feels when you’re in love? Does it really make the sex that much more fabulous? I pull my pillow over my head and let out a squeal. Oh, my God, it was so worth the wait!
I snuggle under my comforter, breathing in Max’s signature spicy scent, letting it infuse my senses.
All of my senses.
I’ve been counting the minutes until I can see him again. Heck, I think I was counting before he even left last night.
Last night…
The make-up sex was otherworldly, but the heaviness in my gut remains. My heart thumped for a solid twenty minutes until he’d texted me that he was home safely, and his dad was sleeping.
I have a feeling I’m going to deal with a lot more of those scenarios in the future. And maybe this isn’t my brightest move, but my heart evidently belongs to the mob and nothing anyone says can change that.
I nibble a loose cuticle. Dad isn’t going to be thrilled to hear Max and I are back together. And how the hell am I supposed to explain why he stood me up the other night?
It’s really okay, Dad. He had a good excuse for standing me up and explained it all to me. You see, he was jumped after these criminals attacked his dad and left him for dead at a deserted construction site because he’d defaulted on massive gambling debts. So you see, he was just fulfilling his family responsibilities.
Um, yeah. I’m going to have to come up with another, more plausible, explanation.
I inhale deeply, pressing the fluffy pillow to my face, a smile lifting my lips.
Later. Much later.
A loud knock startles me and I toss the pillow aside and sit straight up in my bed. Jesus, did I actually mentally summon my father? I roll off the bed and throw on a sweatshirt and leggings. I don’t even know what time it is, and Dad doesn’t usually pop over unannounced, but you never know. Stranger things have happened.
I think I’ll be saying that a lot more in the future.
I pad to the front door and pull it open without looking out the side window first. I grit my teeth and peer around the door as it creaks open. Rookie mistake. Max would flip if he knew.
A tall man in a policeman’s uniform nods at me and flips open a badge. “Sloane Camarena?”
I nod, hugging my arms around myself. A cold feeling snakes its way through my insides, an impending dread “Yes?” A million thoughts flit through my mind. Max is hurt. Max is dead. Dad is hurt. Dad is dead.
I swallow a gasp. Oh, my God…is it always going to be like this now? Am I always going to be wondering, panicking, wondering some more?
“I’d like to ask you a few questions about a missing person. Jules Marquez. May I come inside?”
Oh, my God…Jules! I’ve been so focused on my own drama that I forgot about my friend and the fact that she didn’t show up for work. My throat tightens. “Actually, I’d feel more comfortable if we sat outside, Officer.” No way am I letting him into my house. I’ve seen enough movies and television shows to know that you can fake a badge. And since I’m dating Max Oriani and now have to be a little more vigilant, as in not opening the front door without looking out the window first, so I’m not about to take any chances that this guy is impersonating a cop. I look across my street, and my heart sinks when I see that my neighbors’ cars are missing from their driveways. I have zero witnesses or possible saviors, at this point.
Still…I can scream. And run.
I smack a hand to my forehead. Yeah, I definitely watched too many movies and shows.
He cocks an eyebrow and nods at my feet. “In this cold? You’d better put something on your feet.”
I bend and grab my UGG slippers, sliding them on while standing on my stoop. A lump forms in my throat as my friend’s reality sinks in. I’m afraid to ask the big question because I really don’t want to hear the answer.
But I still do it…
“Is she…” I swallow hard. “Has she been…?” I try a couple of times, but the words just won’t make it out of my mouth.
The officer clears his throat. “I’m hoping you can help us answer the questions, actually. I understand you work together at Holy Name Hospital. Are you aware that she didn’t make it home after a benefit two nights ago?”
