There’d been nothing from him since then, and I hadn’t seen him, either. After our little trip to the catacombs, he must’ve gone over to my house and picked up my car for me before leaving and texting me from the road.
How could he have just left me like that?
I’d heard on the news that his team had gone to Chicago for an exhibition match before the regular season started, but I saw the lights in his penthouse on this morning, so I knew he was home now.
But despite the fact that I knew better, I was still hurt. Finally having him, feeling him inside, was something I hadn’t been able to push out of my head the last four days. It was better than I ever imagined.
He should’ve woken me to say goodbye. Or called to see how I was, at least. I’d just lost my house, and I still couldn’t get a hold of my mother, even though I’d been dialing for days. I also had no luck getting a hold of Mr. or Mrs. Crist on their cell phones, either. If I didn’t hear from anyone by tomorrow, it was time to go to the police. My mother never went this long without calling.
I stuffed my phone back in my purse, picking out one of the books of matches I’d put in there when I brought the box back with me from Thunder Bay. I slid open the lid and inhaled the scent, a quick moment of relief hitting me before it was gone.
Putting it back in my bag, I continued down the aisle of the used bookstore, perusing old sci-fi paperbacks and trying to distract myself.
I’d be damned if I was the one to call him.
“Hey,” I heard a voice call out.
I turned, seeing Alex approach me with a hand in her jeans pocket and a smile on her face. “I saw you through the window and thought I’d say hi. How are you doing?”
I nodded. “Fine. You?”
She held up her hands and shrugged. “Every day’s an adventure.”
I laughed under my breath, turning back to the books. With her profession, I could imagine that it was never boring.
I turned my head aga
in, looking at her. “Hey, thanks for the ride the other night. I know we just met and all, but—”
“Oh, it’s no problem,” she cut me off. “Thanks for driving. I don’t usually drink so much.”
Her eyes fell, looking absently at the books as she gripped the strap of her bag. Just like me, she must’ve just finished with classes.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Just the usual. I’m hot for someone, and he won’t touch me because I sleep with other guys for a living.” She rolled her eyes. “What a baby.”
I smiled with her, but it was kind of sad, actually.
“So he knows what you do then?”
“Yeah,” she replied. “He was at the party, which was why I was drinking. He won’t even look at me.”
“Well, you must know people,” I guessed. “You must’ve made connections in your line of work? Friends? Maybe someone can get you a different job.”
“There’s nothing wrong with what I do,” she retorted, her voice turning cold.
I stopped and turned to her, guilt creeping into my chest. That wasn’t what I’d meant, but it probably sounded like it. I was just trying to see a solution in the situation.
She cocked her head, thinning her eyes with a challenge. “Someday I’m going to own a building like Delcour and drive a hot car like you,” she told me, “and I will have gotten it all on my own. And I’ll do it while flipping the middle finger at everyone—including him—that looked down on me.”
Her voice was hard and strong, and even though I might not understand how she did what she did, I also knew I would never have to. I didn’t know what it was like to make hard choices.
Her lips curled as she continued, “I’m going to fuck my way through school and anyone that doesn’t like it can go to hell.”
I pursed my lips, letting out a small grin. “Okay,” I accepted and took the hint to shut up about it. “But before the hot car throws you, my life hasn’t exactly been a party, either.”
Her eyes softened, and she leaned forward, reaching out her hand and running a finger down the scar on my neck.