Page 67 of Pretty Broken Promises

“I just got home. There are no dishes in the sink. I can't tell if she's been here or not,” I admit.

“Her friend was here earlier. What's her name? You know, the one who's always wearing black. Pretty but kind of scary.”

I nod my head, even though she can't see me. “Tracy. I'll try her. Maybe they made plans.”

“Go find our girl. Have her text me when she's back home safe. I had a heart attack the last time she got taken from my café. I'm not so sure working for me is good luck for her.”

“Thanks Carol, I'll tell her,” I say, and hang up the phone.

I open my contacts and send up a silent prayer that Tracy hasn't changed her number before I hit call.

“Ford? Why are you calling me?”

Under different circumstances, I would give her shit for that kind of greeting, but I really don't have the mental capacity for it right now. “Is Tessa with you?”

“No. I haven't seen her since earlier this afternoon. We talked about having dinner later this week but nothing today. Did you guys have a fight?”

“No. I just got home from training camp, and she's not here. Carol said she left work at six. I can't tell if she's been home or not. She might not have ever made it here. Do you know where she would go?”

“There's a lot of possibilities. It's raining outside. But she's taking public transportation, so what if she didn't make it home?”

Suddenly I find it hard to swallow a very large lump in my throat. Every morning I get up and take my truck to campus, and I haven't given a single thought to the fact that Tessa's car is still in Playa Pacifica.

“I am a fucking asshole,” I mumble.

“You won't hear any arguments from me,” Tracy says.

“I can't believe I've just been letting her take public transportation. What if she didn't make it home? I tried calling her phone, it goes straight to voicemail. If it's not on, we can't even use it to track her.”

I start to grow lightheaded, and my breathing is coming very quickly. I don't know what I'm going to do. I don't know where to start looking. The one thing I do know is that I cannot sit here and do nothing.

“First, you need to breathe. Tessa is not some weak damsel in distress who can't protect herself. She's not going to be walking around unaware of her surroundings.”

“What's second?” I ask her when she stops talking.

“Huh?”

“You said first, that implies there's a second. So what's next?” I know I'm growing impatient, but I need to be out doing something.

“This is going to be a hard one for you, are you ready?” she asks.

“This conversation is hard for me. Will you just spit it out?”

“Damn, you're grouchier than I remember. Fine, you need to wait there. I'm on my way.”

“Hurry up,” I snap and hang up the phone.

She might be right. I might be grouchier than she remembers, but it's not every day that my girlfriend goes missing. Unfortunately, it's not the first time she's gone missing either.

I wait for an agonizing twenty minutes, which in Seattle traffic is actually not very long, before Tracy pulls up in front of the apartment building and parks illegally. I hear honking outside, and I know without her even having to call me that she's here.

I grab my wallet and keys and scribble a note to Tessa that I've gone looking for her then walk out the door.

Tracy is driving a dark silver Audi that I am fairly certain belongs to Bennett. I have to fold myself like a pretzel to get into the car. The moment I'm in, she floors it, driving dangerously fast through the rain-soaked streets of the city.

I watch the landmarks, and start to recognize that we are on the way to Josephine's neighborhood. “Isn't this the way to her mom's house?” I ask.

She slides her eyes my direction for a split second and then focuses back on the road. “I told you there were several possibilities.”

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