Page 42 of The Other Side of Apart

He yanks it from my grip and scans the message. Shakes his head. “Nah man.” He hands it back to me. “I’d never call you Mr. Miller.” He pats my chest and heads for a car pulling up to our stand.

My heart beats so hard, I curl my toes to keep from puking.

TO THE ESTEEMED MR. MILLER,

YOU AND MEI LI SHOULD HAVE FOUND A BETTER HIDING PLACE. I’LL COUNT TO 3…

I rip my phone from my pocket and dial Mei’s number, staring at the hotel’s entrance, my eyes flicking to every movement, searching for Nick’s face behind every column, everypalm tree. After three rings, my pulse throbs, threatening to pick me up off the ground. Panicked, I stuff the note in my pocket and dart toward the parking garage and my motorcycle.

If Nick found me here, he probably found Mei first.

I dial her number again, the phone burning against my ear, matching the hot fear pounding through my veins. I beg God to please keep Nick away from Mei, and when she finally answers, a wave of relief crashes over me, leaving behind cold sweat.

“I’m guessing you called me at work to hear me tell youagainhow hot you areand how much you wish we were home right now?” The smile in her voice cuts through the thick fear inside me and I stop, my legs rubbery. I take a shaky breath as adrenaline recedes. Nick hasn’t found her. Yet.

“Yeah,” I say, straining to keep my voice steady as I ransack my mind for how much to tell her. The last thing I want to do is freak her out. I swallow hard and jerk into motion. “What time do you get off today?” I turn the corner, easing into a jog when my motorcycle’s within view.

“In exactly one hour and…forty-three minutes. So, basically, not soon enough.”

I hurry toward my bike, but my knees lock and I skid to a stop, almost dropping my phone. Another note waits on the seat. My mouth goes dry, Mei’s voice on the other end’s a blur of sound as I whirl around. My eyes sweep every dark corner, every pillar, every car.

“Marcus? Are you okay?”

My focus snaps to the note again and I step close enough to read it.

TIME’S UP.

I back away, my heart beating into my throat while I weigh my options. “Yeah. Yes,” I choke, turning around. I start running back toward the valet stand. “It’s just … any chance you could get off earlier?” Her silence gives me time to collect enough pieces of a likely story.

“Umm…I doubt it, but I could ask.”

“Do it and call me back.”

“Is something wrong? Why do you?—?”

“Nothing’s wrong!” I blurt, clutching the phone to my ear, my eyes landing on the black Rover parked closest to the exit. I lower my voice. “Everything’s fine. Just ask if you can get off in thirty minutes. Let me know, and I’ll swing by and pick you up. It’s a surprise,” I add. “No more questions.” I close my eyes, mentally apologizing for the lie. It’s a surprise, just not the good kind.

“Okay…I’ll ask. Call you in a second.”

I end the call and shove my hand inside my pocket. I yank out the motorcycle key and stare at it. If we take it, Nick will track us down. He already did. He’s probably somewhere in this parking garage, waiting for me to get on the bike and lead him right to Mei. If I leave it, the bike will eventually be impounded. And that’s that. Motorcycle gone. And if I call the cops to track down Nick, and they find out about Mei, she’s gone, too.

My hands shake so bad, I drop the key twice before stuffing it and the note in my pocket and taking off toward the kiosk. I snatch the Rover key, sprint back to the garage, and click the remote engine start. I jump into the driver’s seat and slam the car into reverse, taking the corner out of the garage at fifty miles per hour. My phone rings.

“What did they say?” I ask, working to keep my voice light, steady.

“I can leave in forty-five.”

I glance at the clock. “Be there at 3:40.” I end the call and clench my jaw, accelerating up the ramp and onto a backstreet to avoid The Strip and afternoon traffic.

My mind reels, and I ask for the thousandth time why Nick keeps this up. What does he want from Mei or us or any of this? We have nothing to give him. He can’t have Mei. This goes beyond obsession.

I blast the air conditioner and radio, taking long, deep breaths to clear my head, but it’s not enough. I park the car in front of our building and jump out of it, run up the stairs, and jam my key into the lock. But I don’t have to turn it because the door swings open, and I jerk to a stop.

The room looks like a tornado plowed through it and lifted everything before dropping it somewhere else. Our clothes are strewn all over. The couch and chair are upside down, the nightstand toppled and torn apart. Our mansion fund in the pickle jar, shattered. What little money was in there, gone. My heart beats rapid fire and shorts out, restarts, and I’m standing against the wall, my eyes sweeping the corners of the room. Not a lot of places for someone to hide, but there’s the bathroom. The only thing I care about in this place is Mei, and she’s safe at work. For now. I close my eyes. I can’t do this. But I could get him out of the picture completely. I’m twice his size. It would be self-defense. I’ve wanted to kill him more than once, and now…I could have the chance. He could be hiding in the bathroom. It’s too much of a coincidence with the note for this to not be him.

Swallowing, I edge toward the bathroom, glancing around the room as I go. I ease open the door, my heart pumping in my throat, but he’s not here. He’s come and gone. But why? Maybe he’s outside waiting for us.

I bend down and throw open the cabinet door. Tampon box is still there, untouched. I grab it and rifle through it, the diamonds cold on my fingertips at the bottom of the boxwith our passports. Whirling out of the bathroom, I yank our bags from the closet and shove the tampon box inside before sprinting around the room, gathering all our clothes. Buddha. Magic 8. Shoes, notes, books, chargers. I can’t leave any personal touches for someone to find. I shove anything that says we were here in our bags and don’t look back.

---