Page 162 of Fake Game

All the hesitation leaves my body as I begin running around, checking every room, calling out her name. I kneel on the floor to look under the bed and couch. I lift each blanket and pillow I can find. I open every closet and drawer, no matter how small.

Somewhere.

She has to be somewhere.

“Jackson.” Aleks’ voice tries to break through the blood rushing in my ears.

I can’t stop moving, can’t stop checking each room, over and over and over again. Her streaming room is trashed; webcam smashed, ring light in pieces on the floor. The gaming chair has been flipped over and the LED lights that lined the walls have been ripped off. Her router’s been torn from the wall, chunks of plaster marring the plush rug.

Seeing everything in ruin forces the poisonous truth to the surface.

“Jackson.” Aleks’ hand lands on the middle of my back, palm pressing between my shoulder blades.

It debilitates me, sending me to the floor, knees crashing—his touch forcing me to accept reality, forcing me to accept that she isn’t here.

My heart fractures in two, splitting open and leaving me empty.

“No.” I look up at him, tears quickly filling my eyes. “No.” I shake my head, causing them to spill over.

He kneels on the ground next to me, his hand returning to my back.

“I’m sorry.”

Those two words snap the final thread, and I fall apart. Beads of tears tumble down my cheeks as I squeeze my eyes shut against the pain strangling my chest.

I’m not sure how long I sit there, how long I grieve the loss of her, but eventually the tears dry up and that sharpness in my chest turns to a spark. I feel it inside me. I feel that sparkle ofher. Deer might be gone, but I still carry her with me. If I search through the shattered pieces of my heart, I can find that sparkle, and I’m going to hold onto it.

I’m going to hold onto her.

I’m going to find her.

My hands push on the ground as I leverage myself to stand. The guys steady me, sharing worried looks.

“I’m going to Ireland,” I tell them. My knees ache with every step I take, but I push through it.

“Shit,” I hear them mutter before their hurried feet catch up with me.

“Mate, you don’t even know where she is.” Parker jogs ahead, turning to walk backward as he tries to reason with me.

“I don’t,” I pick up my pace, looking him square in the eye as I stalk past him, “but you do.”

Parker sighs. “You need to give her time. You can’t go barging over there when she clearly needs her space.”

“You don’t know that.” I pull my key fob out and scan it at the far elevator bank that connects to our private lift and press the button. “You don’t know her—us.”

He doesn’t know how I held her in my arms as she slept, chasing away her nightmares. He doesn’t know every time I came running when she felt scared. He doesn’t know that I love her.

He doesn’t know.

I know.

“Look, I’m just saying—”

“I don’t want to hear it!”

The elevator doors open, and I stalk inside, slamming on the button for the penthouse. They follow in quietly, still sharing that apprehensive look.

“I’m going to Ireland.”

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