Page 71 of Blades of Obsession

When Nate’s van disappears into the distance, my mind immediately drifts back to the other problem at hand. I sink into the front seat of my car, pull out my phone, and check for a text. Still none.

Fuck.

It’s been nearly an hour since her cheerleading practice ended, and the coach said she left the building already. Amelia never ignores my texts.Never. I know she’s mad at me, but she’s been mad before and still answered.

My anxiety ratchets up with each passing second. Instead of texting, I decide to call Rhett. The second he picks up, I blurt out, “Are you guys on the way back to the house?” I can’t hide the urgency in my voice.

I get fidgety if I’m away from her for too long, and I haven’t seen her in the past couple of days, tied up doing something for John. This afternoon was supposed to be the first chance to see her before she went off later tonight to Frankie’s dorm.

“Um, no, she’s still at practice,” Rhett says, but there’s something off, he sounds… suspicious.

“No, she’s not. I pay the coach to text me every time practice ends. That text came over an hour ago. And even if she didn’t, your voice just went up a pitch, which means you’re lying. So, I’m going to give youonemorechance to tell the truth. I’m already dealing with too fucking much.”

“Okay, okay. She asked me to cover for her. She seemed excited about going somewhere. I figured she and Frankie planned something, like a girl’s thing. I’ve been… looking for her.” He sighs.

“Jesus fucking Christ! Why do you never do your job correctly?! First you let Jacob corner her in a bar bathroom and now this!” Fuck this. I’m hanging up.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves and punch in Frankie’s number. Hoping and praying that Rhett was right about where she went. The phone rings endlessly. Do people not know how to answer their damn phones these days?!

I start tapping my finger on my pants leg.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

The synchronized tapping gives me something to focus on, coupled with the counting in my head, but it only works for a short while.

Finally, after it feels like multiple lifetimes have passed, Frankie answers, but her voice is weak and croaky. “Where’s Amelia?” I get right to the point, who the fuck cares about saying ‘hello’ right now?

“How would I know?”

“I swear to God, Frankie. If you’re covering for her…”

“I’ve been sick in my dorm room all day! I had to text her to reschedule our spa night for tomorrow. You don’t hear my nasally voice right now? Ask Asher. He’s coming by to bring me chicken noodle soup… and dick. Hehe.”

I let out a frustrated grunt and slam my fist against the steering wheel. “Fuck!”

“Calm down, tough guy. I’m sure your period isn’t on yet. If you’re so worried, why don’t you track her necklace? My dad tried giving me one of those to track me but I said no way, Jose. And some other choice words too.”

A surge of hope races through my chest, a sudden, almost dizzying sensation that cuts through the noise in my head. Fuck yes. “I forgot about that.” Somehow, in my crazy, distressed, angry fit, my brain decided to forget about the one thing that could help me. Stupid brain. I scramble to open the app linked to the necklace, and a red dot pops up instantly on the map. “Oh my god, I love you, Frankie.”

“Eh, you’re not so bad either. Sometimes.”

I drive for a tense fifteen minutes, moving away from the campus and most other bustling life. The GPS leads me to a two-story, dingy motel.

She’s at a motel?

The place is almost deserted, surrounded by trees, and eerily quiet. Her black sports car shines in the sunlight, parked right out front.

Worst-case scenarios hit me like a tidal wave, making it hard to think straight. Is some guy about to die today because he decided to touch what’s mine? Rhett said she was excited when she left.

She wasexcited.

To come to amotel.

That she’s been at for an hour now.

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