Page 145 of Consume Me

I can’t sit around and do nothing. Blake will be beyond mad at me, but I will just let her come inside, prepare her a tea, and look at her injuries. When he returns, we can drive her to campus. This is not the night Blake and I planned to have.

I tell her just a moment, wanting to call him in advance when she passes out. My phone falls from my hand as I rush to open the door. I could never forgive myself if I let my fears stop me from helping someone in need.

I bend over her when a hand slams against my mouth and a cloth is shoved against my nose. Trepidation kicks in, and I try to wriggle out as tears burn my eyes.

The girl stands up and says, “Enjoy tonight. Everyone with their kinks.” She winks and walks away.

What is she even talking about?

I kick and scream, but I get weaker.

I’m so sorry, Blake.That’s my last thought before everything turns black.

I hope, for Kaden’s sake, it’s important. Jogging to my car, everything in me screams to get back to Mia.Stop being paranoid. She’s safe at the lodge.

I get in the car while my mind and heart war in an incessant battle. I am about to turn around when I push the accelerator and reach campus in record time.

Rushing inside, the door slams against the wall. They’re all gathered around the table in the living room, looking from their laptops to me with a mix of contrite and inquisitive expressions.

“Where is Mia?” Hunter asks, standing up.

“Why the fuck did you call me?” I ask Kaden, who looks me dead in the eyes.

“I didn’t.”

“Mia… Noooo,” I let out a wretched sound I never made before. It was a trick. It screams of a trap, and like an idiot, I fellfor it.

Pushing both hands through my hair, Abi shoots up, her face paling. “Oh my god.”

I turn around, rushing back to my car.Nothing happened. She’s fine.I am in full denial, but if I allow myself to despair, I’d fall into the pitfalls of hell.

In the rearview mirror, I catch my friends getting into their cars and following behind me.

Parking, I run to the lodge with my head in complete turmoil. Every second I spiral further down into delirium. In front of the house, I come to an abrupt halt. The door is open, the lights are on, and I spot a bloody handprint on the window.

“Silver,” I cry out her name. My heart shrivels, withering away, hollowness replacing the organ in my chest. I am living my worst nightmare, one I can never escape or wake up from.

Pushing my lead–flooded body inside, I drop to my knees. Tears gather in my eyes. I have never cried until now, but despondency claws at my soul, scattering the lifeless stripes to hell.

I can still smell her sweet scent mixed with notes of orange blossom and amber. Lifting my chin, I spot the eggs and flour on the counter through blurry eyes. She was supposed to bake muffins. I was supposed to confess to her my greatest sin. While I didn’t hold out much hope, there was a flicker there that her love for me would look past my biggest crime.

Now she’s gone. I will never have the chance to tell her to her face that I love her. She’s the only one who makes me want to live and have a life with her by my side. I even saw a future together, despite who I am.

Now, it’s gone—just like her.

A commotion has me looking toward the window. Hunter slams his fist into the bloody hand.

It’s not hers. She’s in our bedroom, waiting for me. Yes, she’s there. She has to be. Where else could she be otherwise, if not in our bed, waiting for me?I can almost hear her call me in that sweet, playful tone. I would rush to her like a possessed man filled with animalistic urges, mad love, and obsessive need.

On shaky legs, I climb the stairs.Please be there, my life. Please.I never begged or pleaded in my life. I never even believed in a god before, but I still ask not to take her away from me.

She’s not in the bedroom. The bed is made because we didn’t get the chance to ruffle the sheets. Time stands still. Seconds or an eternity could have passed while I am rooted in hell when Bailey places a palm on my arm. “I’m so sorry, Blake,” her voice is choked up.

It’s hard to form words, but despair spits them out. She hugs my side, and I say, “I don’t want to live without her.”

She cries while my knees give out, my legs breaking as if they’re made of sticks. Unable to keep myself upright, I drop to the floor.

Bailey lowers to her knees in front of me, cupping my face. “I will find her. I promise you. Be strong for her.”

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