Page 26 of Not a Perfect Save

My head finds my phone with a thunk.But before I can thump it again, it rings. Hannah. I’m about to ignore her for real, but nearly drop the phone again when an unfamiliar number simultaneously lights up the screen.The ghosts of contacts past and present, here to haunt me via modern technology.

Gingerly, I set the device down on the kitchen counter and take one step back, followed by another, eyeing the phone like it’s a grenade about to go off.

The ringing stops, thank goodness.I spin around on my good leg, grab my crutch and coat, and leave just as it starts up again.

Chapter Fourteen

CONNOR

My heart is hammeringas I rush out the door. I’ve called Ella multiple times since our call dropped, but there’s been no answer. Is she hurt? Fuck. It couldn’t have been a medical emergency, could it? She’d have called 9-1-1 or her parents before calling me if it were.Well, maybe not her parents.

Miraculously, a yellow cab is letting someone out across the street from my apartment. I jump in before the other passenger is done paying, ignoring her nasty look.

I spit out Ella’s address while I hit the redial button again. Each ring only increases my alarm. Meanwhile, the car is the equivalent of a bee wading through molasses. I text Logan, telling him I’ll be late for morning practice, tell him to make up some excuse.

Thankfully, when I get to Ella’s building, one of her neighbors is leaving and I’m able slip inside before the door shuts. I bound up the stairs, huffing the entire way.

I get to the top floor and bang on the door. “Ella. Ella!” But there’s no response. I fumble for my phone and dial her again.

Ringing sounds from inside the apartment.

“Ella, open up!” I yell.

Nothing. The phone just keeps going. It’s an obnoxious ringtone, a bullhorn one that no one can sleep through. I pound on the wood again, but nothing.

Fuck it. I take a step back, haul in a deep breath, and charge the door with my shoulder. All I get is a low thud. I grit my teeth and try again, only earning another thump.

An alarm starts blaring.Thank fuck.Light floods the hallway, and I blink a couple of times before my vision clears. Above me, the motion-activated security activates and the camera eye moves. A garbled voice comes through, but it’s not Ella’s.

“Connor? Is that you?” It’s Barry Dixon.

“Yes, sir.” My heart is thudding hard, a new member of the pre-school marching band.

“What’s going on? Where’s Ella? I got a notification that someone was trying to break in. I was just about to alert the police when I saw on my phone that it was you.” His voice is urgent. I can’t imagine what’s going through his head. I feel sick, responsible. Like I should apologize for not taking better care of their daughter like I promised.

“I don’t know. She called me but then the call cut off. She didn’t answer when I tried her back.” I haul in another deep breath. “Now she won’t open the door, but her phone’s ringing from inside the apartment.”

Barry disarms the lock remotely. I’m inside the moment the catch releases. Ella’s phone is on the kitchen counter, but she’s nowhere near it, not collapsed on the floor like I was dreading. I rush to check the bathroom and bedroom. I even open her closet. Empty.

She’s not here. She’s fine. She must be fine, right?I’m breathing heavily, there’s sweat pouring down my face, and my heart is pounding harder than at any football game or mission I can remember. I step back outside.

“She’s not here, but her phone is,” I tell her parents, still on the camera speaker.

“We’re on the way.” A car door slams in the background. Someone is sniffling on his end. Georgiana? Bile forms in my throat.

“Umm…What’s going on here?”

Chapter Fifteen

ELLA

Connor slowly turns around.I blink, but he’s still there. Is that my phone clutched in his hand?

“Where were you?” He rushes forward, grabbing my shoulders, and tries to draw me close. I brace my hands against his chest, trying to make sense of this situation. His heart thunders against my palms. Anger and concern and relief swim in his blue gaze.

Instead of responding, I ask, “What areyoudoing here?”

“You really thought I wouldn’t come? When the call dropped like that? Christ, I thought you had hurt yourself.”

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