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Lizzie
“Ishewithyou?”Drey asked over the phone, and my heart cracked.
“He ran away again?” I asked.
“Dammit. I was hoping—” Drey let out a string of curses. “Not sure why, though, I don’t think he could find his way to you, considering he’s not doing shit in PT. Refuses to start mobility training.”
“It’s only been a couple of weeks.” A long, freaking couple of weeks since he’d stormed out of the doctor’s office.
And stormed out of my life.
“And he’s been drunk more than half of that time. He’s blind, how does he even find the booze I hide?”
Tears stung. Damon hadn’t reached out to me at all. Total radio silence was the worst thing ever. After sitting with him every single day while he was asleep and during rehab, to no contact, not seeing him… I was going through withdrawal.
“Any idea where he went this time?” I bit my fingernail. A habit I picked up, worrying about Damon and his disappearing acts.
A beep vibrated my phone, and I held it out to see it was the lobby desk alerting me to a visitor.Damon Meyers is here.
“Drey. I got to go.” I hustled across the room.
“Lizzie. You okay?”
“Fine. I’ll call you later.”
In record time I made it down to the lobby. Quick steps brought me to the front desk.
“Doug!” I hustled to the counter where the hotel manager, and family friend of Angelina’s, stood. “Where is he?”
He rounded the desk, his tall, nearly six-foot body easily navigating the corner. “Lizzie. This guy, who are you mixed up with?”
“Where is he?”
The lobby bustled with people, and there were two in line for the front desk, but I didn’t see Damon anywhere.
“That big guy, Bill, he took him to a conference room.” Doug waved his hand in front of his nose. “Smells like a brewery in there, too.”
Doug’s light brown hair had a curl to it, the ends flipping up over his ears, and his amber eyes sparkled beneath the lighting that brightened the lobby. His jaw was tense as he guided me down the hallway just off the front desk.
“How’d he even find this place?” I asked Doug, but I wasn’t sure why. He didn’t know Damon’s situation.
“Resourceful little prick.” Bill’s voice boomed in the hallway as he lumbered around the corner. “This way.”
Doug sidled up with me as we followed Big Bill, the owner of the club where Hunter and Drey worked.
“You don’t have to go with me, Doug. Bill’s got me.”
“It’s okay,” he said.
Doug had kinda latched on to me when I’d arrived. I figured it was because he was the hotel manager and Angelina’s friend and that maybe he thought he owed it to me. It was sweet, really.
“Lizzie. Are you sure this guy is safe?” he asked, glancing around.
“Bill? Sure. He’s—”
“No. That other one. Damon is his name?”
“Yeah. He’s fine. Just struggling.”
