Page 14 of Audiophile

Thank you?My stomach sinks like I’ve swallowed a box of rocks. “It’s nothing. I shouldn’t have read it. I’m sorry for that, and for the pain you’re going through.”

Her fingers trail over that paragraph. The one that eats at me. “It’s funny,” she murmurs. “I’ve been screaming for so long that I lost my voice. Like pulling a fire alarm too frequently. Thewhole building is ablaze, but it’s old news. The only person who cares is the occupant.”

That’s the opposite of funny, and the rocks in my stomach multiply. “I care, Petra.”

The corner of her mouth lifts into an unfeeling smile. I recognize it from the last time I was here. It’s her customer service face. The vibrant girl who laughed with me is nowhere to be found. “You have no reason to. Thank you again. Have a nice day.”

“Petra.” I can’t stand it. Reading her words was nothing compared to watching this. I need her to do more than exist. I reach for her hand, but she moves out of reach. “I stole it. Took it right off your check stand.”

“Okay,” she says, as if I didn’t commit an atrocious invasion of privacy. She’s…vacant.

“I knew you recognized me and I… I suppose I wanted to even the playing field.” It’s the ugliest truth, and I’m hoping it will shock her into motion. But she merely shrugs and tucks one earbud into her ear. A coping mechanism. “Where is your support system? Your family? Are you married?”

She frowns at me, her eyes terribly blank. I glance at her ring finger, but it’s bare. “Why does it matter…Knight?” Her whole face scrunches. “I’m assuming that’s not your real name.”

“Reed,” I supply, breaking rule number three. She cocks her head, still waiting for an answer. She smells of oranges, cookies, and a scent from my childhood that I can’t figure out. It tugs at something inside me, and my words come out softer than I intended. “I can’t walk away knowing you have no one in your corner.”

She sits back with a huff, and some color comes back to her face. “I have to start my shift.” She scoops up her book and purse and flees to the employee break room.

“Damn it.” I sigh, rubbing at the headache creeping into my temple. I feel worse than before. Shethankedme for stealing and prying into her personal life. She went full on robot on me. The pink in her cheeks washed out until she was whiter than hernotebook pages. Is this how she normally is? How does no one notice she’s barely alive?

Kind of like how no one noticesI’mbarely alive.

I search for a way to salvage the situation, though I’m not sure what there is to salvage. I’m not trying to make friends. Rule number one. But I want to be better than the man who stole her notebook. Therapy is the best move here, and I pull out my phone to schedule an appointment.

Her coworker from the other day steps up and orders a coffee for himself. When he glances over at me, he smiles. “Hey, visitor. You’re still here! How wasBella Vita?”

“I haven’t gone yet.” It’s reckless, and will assuredly blow up in my face, but I walk over to shake his hand. “I’m Reed. I wasn’t intending to stay, but…” I search the registers for any sign of Petra. I have no idea how to explain this.

“Ray.” Ray frowns as he watches Petra emerge and head to a check stand. “Always a woman that derails our plans, isn’t it? I don’t want you getting ahead of yourself. Petra moved home a few months ago—real rough go of it down in California. We’re all protective of her.”

“California?” The coincidence snags my attention.

“Los Angeles. But that’s her story to tell. Should’ve guessed something would come from your conversation the other day. I haven’t seen her laugh that hard in years.”

Years?I force the question down. Is what I saw the other day some miracle? Did my theft ruin it and send her back into darkness?“I was hoping to see her again.”

“She’s off at six,” he offers. He’s trying to be helpful, but if I was stalking Petra, he made it easy to abduct her. I swallow the lecture sitting on the tip of my tongue.

“Thanks.”

“Treat her right, or we’ll all come after you with pitchforks.”

I’ve already mistreated her, and I’ve known her for all of ten minutes. It’s the world’s worst record. I wish I could promise him something, anything, but I have no clue what I’m doing. I shoulddrive back to Portland, or further on to Seattle. I manage a nod to Ray before I head to the car.

There’s a hotel on the road to the freeway, and my heart stops and stutters at the sight of it. I pull into the empty hotel lot, chewing on my choices. Leaving town with Petra withdrawn and empty leaves a sour taste in my mouth. “What am I doing?” I sigh, tapping my thumbs against the steering wheel. “Just let her be, Reed.”

The rain beats down, and each drop against the windshield is a tick of the clock. My anxiety ticks with it. That’s all it does anymore—tick away as life passes too quickly. I’m constantly in fight-or-flight mode.

I can’t do this anymore. I have to stop running. I have to stop pretending that I’m okay. I have to put effort into making my life better than it is.

I pull myself together and jog through the rain to the front door.

“Welcome! Checking in?” the receptionist asks with a smile.

“I don’t have a reservation.”

“That’s okay.” She winks at me before her blue eyes do a leisurely once over. She might want a hookup, or could just be appreciating the scenery. Either way, there’s a slimy element to it. “For one night?”

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