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“You little bitch,” I cursed.
Hannah only shrugged, and I made for her, my hands balled into fists. Jeremy stopped me, quickly pulling me back. “Slow down, cowboy,” he warned.
“This is her fault,” I hissed. But Jeremy wasn’t looking at me. Neither was the other officer. They were both staring at Hannah’s breasts. I quickly looked to Bobby for support. “She drugged me!”
“Save it!” Bobby spat. “Her car’s outside. Where the fuck is she if she’s not here?”
“I have no idea!” I shot back, pulling on a shirt and shoes, getting ready to go out and look for her all over town if I had to. “Do you think she walked back home?”
“I swear to God, Andy, if anything happens to her, I’m going to fucking kill you!”
“No one’s killing anyone,” Jeremy said, still staring at Hannah.
I smacked him across the back of the head. “She’s a crazy bitch. Keep your eyes off her before she drugs you, too.”
“Can you quit it with drug thing?” Bobby yelled.
“Call her phone.”
“She doesn’t have her phone!”
“How did you fuck this up?” I slammed a fist into the wall, ready to beat Bobby to an inch of his life for being so stupid.
“If you hadn’t been convincing my sister that you liked her, while the whole time fucking Crazy Hannah, maybe none of this would have happened in the –” Bobby’s cellphone rang, cutting him off. “Chief! Anything?”
Bobby’s eyes went wide, and he stared at me with a frozen look of shock on his face.
“What is it?” I asked frantically.
“My truck! Now!” Bobby ordered, pocketing his phone and racing out of the apartment.
I stopped Jeremy when he began to give chase. “Her!” I said, pointing at Hannah. “I swear to you, Jeremy, she drugged me. Check the glasses and the whiskey.”
I didn’t wait for him to reply and quickly raced out after Bobby.
***
Bobby was doing eighty on the Boston Turnpike, weaving through the scant traffic like a madman, on more than one occasion almost driving off the road and killing us in the process. I didn’t tell him to slow down, though. The minute he realized Andrea had left the house, he had called everyone, asking them to call him if anything at all popped up.
Apparently, there had been a car accident on the 44 heading towards Manchester. The description of the car matched Dennis’s.
“What the fuck were you doing with Hannah anyway?” Bobby was yelling. “You told me you were through with her!”
“I am,” I yelled back. “She came to my house, pretended to care about the fight I had with Dennis, and then the bitch drugged me.”
“You actually believed she was being your friend?” Bobby scoffed. “How fucking naïve can you get?”
“Can you shut up already?” I shot. “I get it, I fucked up, now keep your eye on the road and try not to get us killed before we reach Andrea.”
“I swear, when this is over,” Bobby spat, shaking his head in anger. “I’m going to beat the shit out of you.”
“More driving, less talking!”
Bobby swerved past a car at an exaggerated angle just to throw me against the door and upped the speed. In the distance, we
could see the distinct glow of flames, and my heart instantly dropped.
No one had said anything about a fire.
