Page 87 of Lock 'em Down

Fuck. Is she crying? Panic rises inside and I shake her harder. “Hey. Knox, what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” she sniffles, sliding off me. She moves toward the bathroom, and I follow, nearly passing out as the blood rushes to my fucking head.

Hell, tonight is a head trip. Highs and lows and I’ve got no clue which way is up.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” I enter the bathroom behind her.

She cleans up quickly. Her face is splotchy when she looks at me.

And my heart fucking breaks. My girl is straight up crying.

“Talk to me,” I demand, my panic rising. What is going on? What am I missing?

“Oh, Leif,” she says, wrapping her arms around my waist.

She hugs me hard and I hold her.

“Leif, let’s go to sleep.”

“What?” I frown. “No. Let’s talk.”

“Tomorrow,” Cami whispers. “Please, I’m exhausted and emotional and… Tomorrow.”

“Baby, are you okay? Did something happen? I need you to give me something.” No way can I sleep with her crying beside me. Not until I know what’s wrong. Not until I know how to fix it.

“I’m okay. Today was just…a lot. Now, I’m tired and emotional and a little bit tipsy. Plus, that was intense.” She gestures toward the bed. “Let’s sleep, okay?” She takes my hand and tugs me toward the bedroom.

“Okay, baby.” I kiss the top of her head. “I’m just going to shower quickly.”

She nods and returns to bed. I rinse off, trying to collect my thoughts.

I think over the details of the day. I’m grateful for Piper’s heads-up but I still can’t pinpoint what happened. What am I missing? Where did things go awry?

I towel off and pull on a pair of boxers to sleep in. When I slide into bed, Cami is already asleep. Her face is peaceful in slumber, her lips pursed into a delicate pout, her eyelashes dark against her cheeks.

God, but I fucking love her. Whatever happened today, I’ll fix it. I’ll make everything better tomorrow.

The thought settles me some. I wrap my arm around Cami, pull her into my chest, and hold her close. Then, I follow her into sleep.

When I wake in the morning, her side of the bed is empty.

“Cami?” I sit up, looking around the room. My heart rate picks up instantly, as if warning me of danger. I stumble from the bed and glance around the room. Our suitcase is still in the closet, but something feels different.

Off.

Did she head out for a coffee or a walk?

Her phone is gone. So is her purse.

What the hell? I check the time and note it’s after eleven AM.

When did she leave? Where did she go?

I race into the bathroom and note that her makeup bag, her hairbrush, her fucking toothbrush are all gone.

Is she coming back? Is she done?

Is she ghosting me? Again.

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