I tried to be nice. I took care of her while she mourned over Isaac. Was the shoulder she could cry on. I remained patient and understanding while she cried every fucking day. And when I found out she was pregnant, I didn’t even flip my shit even though I never wanted to have kids. And how does she repay me? By refusing to even give us a chance. She should be happy I’m going to take care of her and her baby instead of her being alone with no help from anyone. I didn’t want to have to force her hand, but her stubbornness has left me no choice.
I set the cake on the counter and head down the hall to check on my bride-to-be, when I notice the door to my guest room is open. Sprinting the rest of the way, I swing it open and call out her name. How the fuck did she get out? I search for her everywhere, but she’s gone. What the fuck! The door hasn’t been broken, which means someone let her out. But who?
I open my laptop in my office and click on the security footage so I can rewind it to see who the fuck I’m going to kill, only everything is black. Someone’s messed with my shit. I check every camera. All fucking black.
“Damn it!” I swipe everything off my desk and stand, punching a hole into the drywall. “Where the fuck are you, Camilla?” The officiant is due here soon and without the bride, there can’t be a damn wedding!
Think, Noah… Who could’ve done this? Nobody knows where I live. I’ve never even had anyone over before. When I fuck women, I get a hotel room.
Could I have left the door unlocked? I double-check the house again and then run out to my car. If I left the door unlocked, she’d have to walk, unless she found someone with a phone—but that doesn’t explain how the hell my cameras went offline.
I drive back down the street slowly, checking for Camilla. There are tons of woods out here, and I can’t possibly check them all. Eventually she’ll have to come out… Jesus!
When I get back to the city, I do another drive through to my house and back out again. Nothing. No goddamned Camilla.
This time, when I get back to the city, I go by her friend Yasmin’s place to see if she’s there. I’m not sure which unit she lives in, since I’ve only been here once to drop her off after the funeral so she wouldn’t have to grab a cab. I ask around and after several tries, find someone who knows her and where she lives. I could knock on the door, but if Camilla is here, that will only give her time to hide or skip out the window to the fire escape. So instead I kick the door in and stalk inside. There’s an older woman sitting on the couch and she screams, but when I point my gun at her, she shuts up real quick.
“Is Camilla here?”
“No! She hasn’t been around in months.” She sounds like she’s telling the truth, but I’m not about to take her word for it, so instead I search the place, finding Yasmin in her room, listening to her headphones and typing away on her computer.
When she looks up and sees me, her eyes bulge open. “What are you doing here? Is Cam here?”
Guess I have my answer. “Have you seen Camilla?” I ask, pointing the gun at her.
“No! What the hell is wrong with you?” Yasmin shrieks.
“Write down my number. If you see her, you need to call me. She’s in trouble and I need to find her.” It’s a lie, obviously, but if I tell her the truth, she isn’t going to tell me shit.
After I give her my number, I leave, unsure where the hell to check next. I’m driving around, checking some of the areas I think she might go to, like the marina, where she might feel close to Isaac. Then I remember she still has her dad, so I drive up there. Only the asshole manning security won’t let me through since I’m not an approved visitor.
“Is there a way I can call the man I need to speak to?”
“No, only inmates can call out.”
I search the area to see if Camilla is around, but when I don’t see her, I head back home. I have no fucking clue where she is, and when I still haven’t found her, I’m forced to cancel the wedding ceremony.
One thing’s for sure, when I find this bitch, I’m going to handcuff her to the damn bed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CAMILLA
Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring.
The sound of a phone ringing jerks me out of my deep sleep and has me glancing around to see where the noise is coming from. When I spot the device on the nightstand, I grab it and find a note that reads: answer me.