“I’ll always love you, Carter,” I say to the empty room before I make my exit, leaving a part of my soul behind me.
Chapter 21
Carter
The apartment is dead silent when I get back. The lights are off and the sofa is empty. A smile curves my lips upward. She’s in my bed, waiting for me. My blood starts roaring in my ears as it all starts racing toward my dick. I pull my shirt over my head and make for the bedroom.
“Everyone says that you owe them a big gesture. Aly suggested you sing during lunch. I didn’t know if you had any vocal chops so I said you’d just buy everyone’s lunch. I told them your mom was a—“ I stop short of the doorway. There’s no one in my bedroom. The bedspread looks like it’s never been touched.
I dash to the closet. All her clothes are there—at least the ones I bought her. My anxiety tapers off, only to immediately ratchet up again when I see a space at the bottom of my closet where her ratty backpack used to rest. I drop to my knees and search for it, but there’s only my shoes.
“Mallory!” I shout. “Come out. You got me. I definitely thought you were missing.” I cross to the bathroom and slam my hand against the switches. The lights flicker on but there’s no one here. The truth sinks like a bucket of concrete in a pool. There’s no one here but me.
I don’t see any signs of struggle. The pillows on the sectional are stacked neatly to one side. My remote is carefully lined up next to my book on Frank Lloyd Wright architecture. The counters are spotless. All signs point to her leaving on her own but it doesn’t make any fucking sense. We were two seconds away from popping each other’s cherry. I had to cut it short because I wanted to make sure everyone got off my property before they destroyed the whole estate. She must’ve slipped out with another student. Another guy? Did she find someone else she liked better? There’s no one with a fatter wallet. Are there guys at school better looking than me? I haven’t ever measured that. What do I know about what girls are attracted to? Ninety-nine percent of them only want down my jock because I was the winning quarterback and because my old man pretty much owns this town. I could look like a troll and have warts on my back and girls would still want to sleep with me.
But I am an asshole. I know that but I thought she did too and that she didn’t care. I thrust a frustrated hand through my hair. The reasons she left don’t matter.
I grab my phone and call Fast. “Yo. Aly with you?”
“Yeah why?”
“I need to talk to her.”
“You have your cousin. Why do you need my girl?” Fast sounds irritated. I would be as well if some pencil dick wanted to talk to Mallory, particularly this late at night. But I don’t have time to soothe Fast’s ego.
“Because I do. Just put her on the phone.”
“Nah. You don’t get to talk to me like this.” He hangs up.
I pull the phone from my ear and stare at the screen for a hot second before angrily jabbing the redial button. “What the hell, Fast?”
“I’m not letting you speak to my girlfriend when you’re pissed off. You could hurt her feelings.”
“Oh for God’s sake. Mallory is missing.” That’s more important to me than some random girl’s feelings.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I came upstairs and my apartment was empty. Her stuff is gone.”
He lets out a low whistle. “Damn, man. That sucks. Why don’t you talk to Aly? Maybe your cuz said something to her.”
I nearly grind my teeth into dust to keep myself from lashing out at Fast. That’s why I’d asked for her in the first place.
“Hey, Carter. What’s going on?”
“Did you and Mallory talk about her leaving?”
“No, she never said a word. The last I saw of her was right after the cops left. She gave me a hug and thanked me for everything. I think she was going to give Owen a hug, too, but you stomped over and dragged her away.” Aly hesitates and then asks, “Is it the cops?”
“I don’t know. If you see her on the road call me.”
“Why on the road?”
“Because she doesn’t have a car.” I hang up before Aly asks more questions I don’t want to answer.
Mallory doesn’t have very much money because she left most of it here for some reason. This pisses me off more than anything. She’s on foot and can’t get very far. I grab my wallet and keys and bound down the stairs to my car. I slam the Maserati into gear and speed down the long lane. When I get to the end, I pause and try to deduce which way she went. To the right is the school and to the left is downtown. I opt for the left. She’s trying to get away from me, which means the school isn’t a refuge.