Page 6 of The Eleventh Hour

The dirty lights of Hurricane come into sight and, with a sigh, I drive down the slight hill and into the town. The roads are cracked beyond repair, fixed a hundred times over with thick ropes of black tar that look like hundreds of snakes slithering. No building is intact. The streets, even though it’s bitterly cold, are filled with the sick and homeless making their way towards a safe hole for the night.

We pass billboards with peeling pictures, shops with signs half torn down. Every storefront has bars or a roller door made of chain links. This city is one of the most depressing places I’ve ever been, and we’ve barely scratched the surface.

“Here.” Rafael leans in front of me and points at a tall building. There is nothing special about it. The dumpsters out the front are overflowing, and the brick walls are a rainbow of overlapping graffiti.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, if I’ve followed the trail right, this is where we will find her.”

I pull the car onto the side of the road and twist in my seat to look up at the building. It goes up fifteen stories. It’s an absolute dump. Who would live here voluntarily?

“I feel wrong about this,” I mutter.

Rafael looks away. “Me too. But it’s for Terrance.”

My hand clenches around the steering wheel, and then I pull away. “Yeah. For Terrance.”

It used to be the three of us. We met at different stages of our lives. Three messed up, lonely kids who found each other and built a family. I owe Terrance so much. I can’t let whatever happened to him just be another cold case sitting in some detective’s drawer. He deserves more. I don’t care what they say, there is no way that Terrance just up and walked off. He didn’t meet someone and go get married. He didn’t just leave. Terrance never would have left us! We were family, and that meant everything to us. No matter how hard we fought. He would have come home.

“Dane, stop.”

I smile bitterly. “You aren’t clairvoyant yet, Rafe.”

“Fucking am so.” He turns in the seat so he’s facing me, a sardonic grin on his face. He looks older, but I think it’s the stress. We’re both running on fumes. His brown hair is spikey from him running his fingers through it, and his clothes are rumpled. There’s a scar near his ear that he got back when we were happy. When I look at Rafe, I see all my failures. “It’s not your fault.”

I grab the handle of the car. “So, 2B?”

Rafael shakes his head slowly. “Gonna have to face all your feels one of these days, brother.”

“Maybe so, but not today.”

In the dark, I can feel the kind, intelligent gaze of one of my best friends as he tries and fails to drag me into another feelings talk.

“Yeah, 2B.”

“Are you coming with?”

“Nah, you know I scare the women. You go and find out if we are in the right place.”

Rafael looks at me, and even though I look, I can’t see it. I know what the women have said to me when I ask. It’s something in his eyes. He looks dangerous. But I’ve never seen it. Rafael is a big teddy bear. I think it’s the knowledge of the world that makes his eyes look older, jaded. I think it’s what he’s seen. His eyes look old. To me, he’s just Rafe.

I open the car door and step onto the street, a quick jog, and I slip into the building. So close, I can’t bear much more failure. My mouth waters thinking about getting the answers, and my hands get shaky. I can taste the excitement. This lead has taken six months to get. Six months to track down this one address.

I step onto the second floor landing and look up and down the hallway. The carpet is a disgusting, washed-out blue that is so covered in stains. The more accurate name of the colour would be closer to brown. The walls are equally filthy. I can hear people crying and screaming at each other. The sound of TVs at full volume mixes with the smell of rotting food and something that smells dead.

“How can anyone live here?”

A woman snickers and steps past me. Her long brown hair swishes down to the middle of her back, over the soft leather jacket. Knee-high boots and jeans that perfectly cup her ample arse. Soft curves everywhere that just beg to be explored. She is so out of place in this building that, at first, I think I’ve imagined her.

I clear my throat and jog to walk beside her. What does she look like? I need to see her face. I smile and lift my chin a bit.

“Hey.” I let my voice go to that sexy bedroom drawl. “Do you live here?”

She glances at me, and I see she’s wearing eyeliner that frames the most amazing eyes I’ve ever seen. Silver eyes. All my thoughts just pause as I stare into her eyes, and then she glances away. I let out a quiet breath and mentally slap my myself. I’ve never had that happen before.

“Dane Galbraith.”

She sighs like I’m annoying her. “Jax Shade, and yes, I live here.”

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