Page 36 of Fighting for His Life

The officer steps forward when Rory speaks up. He may not know who Rory is, but he can sense he’s dangerous. “We advised against it,” the doctor adds. “But she walked out the door.”

My heart races. I’ve got to find her. I move to leave when the nurse’s hand comes down on my arm. “She left this,” she says handing me a letter with my name on it.

I take the letter then I’m out the door. I’m instantly bombarded with camera flashes and reporters clamoring with questions. I manage to make my way through without punching anyone in the face.

Once in the street, I hail a taxi, reporters still following. Without a word, I climb into the first taxi that stops – yes, there were several probably wanting to see what the deal is. “Sixty SoHo,” I tell driver who is staring at me through his rear-view mirror.

“NOW!” I yell, not caring at all how this will affect my reputation. My reputation is borderline asshole with most reporters, but I do try with fans, as much as I hate the constant attention. Right now? Right now, I am one hundred percent kiss my ass.

His gaze jerks forward, and he pulls from the sidewalk. “I didn’t mean to stare, Mr. McCabe,” he says nicely. “I was just shocked to see you in my cab.”

“It’s fine,” I snap.

“I just wanted to let you know I’m a fan. I followed you and Zane Valen through your college careers. You haven’t disappointed professionally.”

“Thanks,” I say. And I mean it, even if my tone says I am fucking ass.

“Your game Monday was amazing.”

The mention of my game reminds me that’s the last time I talked with Zoey. It feels like a lifetime ago, but it was only hours. I pinch the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger. “Look, I have some serious personal shit going on right now, and the last thing I want to do it talk football.”

The man looks at me in his mirror searching my face. I’m not sure what he sees, but he gives me a nod and remains silent.

We make it to the hotel quickly which is a relief. I hand the man some money for the fare plus extra. “Wait for me for twenty minutes,” I tell him.

“Mr. McCabe, this is too much money,” the man says looking at the three hundred dollar bills I handed him.

“Just wait. If I’m not down in twenty minutes, consider it a tip.”

“Yes sir,” the man says gratefully as I walk towards the hotel.

I walk to the front desk to ask for Zoey’s room key. It takes some convincing, but I get it. I take the stairs to her floor - I can move faster than an elevator. I make it to her room and knock. There’s no answer.

My stomach drops.

The moment the doctor and nurse said that Zoey left, I felt a heavy feeling settle deep into my stomach. Zoey doesn’t go against doctor’s orders. She would never just walk out of the hospital. She’s always considerate and responsible.

But she’s never been through anything like this. I should feel like I’m in unchartered water – and I do – but I also knew the moment they said she left the hospital that she wouldn’t be in her hotel room either.

I know her - mind, body, and soul. I know that she is strong and kind. I also know that she gentle, sensitive, and feels everything so deeply that I know, without a doubt, this is shattering her. I know she needs me.

I also know she isn’t in that room. It’s why I got her room key.

I don’t know why I want to go in there knowing what I do. I don’t know what I think I’ll find because it won’t be her.

I walk into the room, and I’m instantly hit by the smell of her perfume and soap. I walk to the closet and the dresser and find she cleaned them out. I check out the bathroom only to find it empty too.

I make my way to the bed and bury my head in my hands. I have never felt so fucking helpless in my life. I pick up my phone to call her again. I’ve been trying since I left the hospital.

“Where the fuck did you go?” Zane yells on the other end.

“Why do you have her phone?” I ask as another knot forms. “She left it there, didn’t she?”

“Yeah she left it here. This isn’t good, Jax. Zoey can’t handle this kind of thing.”

I let out a shuttered breath. “I know,” is all I manage to get out. “I’m at her hotel. She’s gone, Zee.”

“I fucking knew it,” he mutters. “I knew she was gone. I fucking feel it. What the hell do we do?”

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