Page 82 of The Savior

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Chelsea increased the pressure on the gas pedal as she drove to Liam’s apartment. She’d tried calling him, but the ring double-beeped, signaling he was on the other line.

“Come on. Answer.” But she ended the call when his voicemail picked up.

The first times Liam ignored her phone call, she could understand. No one had meant to blindside him. But he still hadn’t answered her calls when she tried again.

Maybe he was on the other line with Linda. Chelsea hadn’t said much when she grabbed her purse, only that she’d check on him.

Her phone trilled, and Linda Nyman’s name appeared on her Jeep’s console display. Chelsea pressed Accept and didn’t bother with pleasantries. “Did you talk to him?”

“No. I was hoping you did.”

“Nope.” She bit her bottom lip.

“He’s on the phone with someone,” Linda added.

“I know!”Aren’t we both top-notch detectives? “I’ll be there in a bit and will text you after I talk to him.”

Linda hummed, and her worry carried through the speakers. “I should’ve called him again before we started.”

They could look back on the day and change things a hundred different times. But hindsight was pointless. “I’ll talk to him.” She exited the highway. “It’ll be fine.”

And it would, as soon as she tracked him down. If he wasn’t home, she didn’t know where to head next. Even if he was home, that was slightly problematic. She had a vague idea of where he lived but couldn’t pinpoint his door to save her life.

“Thanks,” Linda said before they hung up.

If he hasn’t talked to Linda or me, whom did he turn to?An irrational spike of jealousy panged. He could talk to whomever he wanted. But in the pit of her stomach, she wanted to be the person he turned to for comfort.

But he didn’t… That said everything—she might even be the reason he hadn’t answered her calls. Or, more specifically, because they’d slept together.

Chelsea turned into his apartment complex. Well, she was ninety-nine percent sure it was his, and though she briefly considered using her federal resources to run his name and get an address, she opted out of trolling through government files for personal use.

“Where the corn muffins am I…?” She pinched her lips together as she crept from one parking lot to the next.

A dark Explorer caught her eye. She sped closer and peered at it. It was completely indistinguishable and wasn’t parked close to the buildings. Really, it seemed to straddle the line between two of the low-rise, open-hall-style apartment structures.

Every stone entrance and open breezeway was identical. Even the bushes matched one another, mirror images of every building in the complex.

She called his phone again and once again got no answer. “Big surprise.”

But she couldn’t blame him. After what he’d seen, plus their newfound inexplicable tension, she wasn’t sure where his head might be. She didn’t even know about hers.

She only knew she had to find him. That, and that her insides hurt because he was hurting.Andshe knew that her arms ached to hold him.

So, actually, she knew a lot.

But she caught herself. “This isn’t about you.”

Right? Ugh, she didn’t know anything other than finding him was important.

All she had to do was let go of her emotions and think. “Where do you live?”

He was likely trained well enough to avoid parking in front of his home. But Liam was also pissed enough to take the first spot he could find.

She visualized him pulling into this parking spot, then she estimated the shortest distance to an apartment breezeway. It was a tough call, but his building had to be the one on the left.

Chelsea parked and stepped out of her Jeep. She headed for a row of mailboxes. They were numbered, not named. “Would’ve been too easy.” At that point, she would knock on every door if she had to.

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