Page 76 of Octane

As soon as the last syllable leaves my lips, he fists my hair and turns my head so I’m looking him in the eye.

“You listen to me, and you listen good. I afforded you too many freedoms before, and that’s going to change. I refuse to let you embarrass me any further than you already have. From now on, you do as I say, go only where I tell you to go, and see only the people that I allow you to see. Do you understand?”

I nod my head as much as I can with his grip tight on my hair.

With despair, I wonder how long it will be before I’m allowed to see Carissa and Daddy. I’ll have to give up my new apartment. I’ll never be able to work again. Racing is completely out of the picture, and…

Jackson.

No. I can’t let myself think about him. I can’t breathe.

My lungs feel like they’re on fire.

My heart is shattering.

My soul is in purgatory.

Even if I survive this, I will never be the same again.

JACKSON

I checkmy phone as soon as my eyes open the next morning. It’s 7:00 a.m., and I have no messages or missed calls from Sawyer. Something isn’t right. I felt it in my gut last night, and I’m kicking myself for leaving, recalling how uneasy I felt as I did.

Rolling out of bed, I pull on some jeans, and throw a t-shirt over my head. Grabbing my room key, I walk to the other side of the fourth floor. To Sawyer’s room. The bad feeling in my stomach feels even heavier when I turn the corner and see the to-go bag with the soup inside still on the floor next to her door.

I pick up my pace, needing to get to her faster. When I get to her door, I knock hard and shout loudly.

“Sawyer! Open up!” I pound on her door as hard as I can.

When there’s no answer and no sound coming from inside, I knock again.

“Sawyer! It’s Jackson. Are you okay?”

My heart skips a beat when I hear a door open, but it falls when I realize it’s not hers.

“Hey man, we’re trying to sleep here,” the guy from across the hall scowls.

Ignoring him, I use both fists and pound on the door until it feels like both of my hands are broken.

When even that doesn’t get a response, I panic. I run to the end of the hallway and push through the door to the stairwell. I don’t have time to wait for an elevator. I practically jump down each flight of stairs as I make my way to the lobby. I bust through the door on the main floor and nearly slam into one of the housekeepers.

“I’m sorry,” I say to her quickly, but I don’t stop until I reach the front desk.

“Excuse me, one of your guests is in trouble. Room 437, Sawyer Stone. I need to get into her room.” I rake a hand through my hair nervously, and shift my weight back and forth between my feet.

“I’m sorry Sir, but unless your name is on the room, I can’t give you a key.”

“Can you follow me up there, then? You can open the door, I don’t care, I just need to get in there. She hasn’t responded to any calls or texts since six forty-five last night. When I’ve tried knocking, there’s no answer. She said she was sick, and I need to make sure she’s not in there passed out, or worse.” I’m begging the girl at this point, and I hope she can see the worry in my eyes.

The girl at the front desk radios the manager on duty who tells her she will meet me outside of Sawyer’s room.

“Thank you, please tell her to hurry,” I don’t wait for her response as I race back up the flight of stairs.

Hope and dread swirl through me as I wait for the manager to arrive. When I hear the elevator ding, I pray that it’s her. Finally, she rounds the corner, taking her time, and I curse her out in my head for being so damn slow.

“Hello, Sir. You said you know the person in this room?”

“Yes, she’s my girlfriend. I need to get in there and make sure she’s okay.”

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