Page 24 of CTRL+ME
Not only is this not fucking good if the hospital needed me, but I now have no way of communicatingto Lylah what’s going on, because in my haste, I didn’t even leave a fucking note.
This weekend was too good to be true. I let my guard down, and bad things happened. I let someone in, and now I’m driving across the state in the middle of the night. I can’t help but think that if I hadn’t been selfish and wanted the weekend for myself, Jo wouldn’t be sick.
Tears drip down my face, and my stomach twists, but all I can do is keep driving.
NINETEEN
WHERE IS SHE?
LYLAH
The sun is beaming on the top of my head through the oversized window behind Tatum’s bed.
I need to talk with her and ask why the hell she would ever put her bed in front of this thing, but that’s for another time.
I reach to the side of me, but I’m only met with cold bedding. Surely, she’s up running, or working, whatever someone with her energy does at the crack of dawn. Does that get unlocked with age, like one eventually grows into liking beer, or dry wine? Whatever it is, waking up early and doing anything for the first hour is not something I enjoy.
Slowly, I sit up, taking in how I’m feeling fromthe past couple of days and the strenuous activities I’ve put this body of mine through. Surprisingly nothing ishurting. I run my fingers over my wrist, but nothing there either. I’ll have to tell her I want it rougher, tying me up, so I can feel it for the days following.
My core flutters at the thought of being tied up and at her will again. To be used however she wants.
Heading to the bathroom to handle my morning business, I think it would probably be a good idea to take a shower after…everythingfrom last night. The hot water cascades over my body as the scents of the way-too-expensive shampoo, conditioner, and body wash that smells like her fill my nose. Hints of coconut, bergamot, and cedarwood, not too sweet and not too masculine either. The perfect mixture that I’ll happily coat myself in.
The scents that make Tatum,Tatum.
Now dried off, with my hair brushed and lotion applied, I’m walking through the still, eerily quiet house. I expected to hear a peep from her by now, and I get a sinking feeling deep in my gut, but quickly disregard it. I’m sure Tatum is just out running or maybe went to the store…
I busy myself by grabbing the laundry basketsout of each room and start a load, and when I look out the window of the laundry room that overlooks the driveway, Tatum’s car is missing.
My hands start to shake, but again, I brush it off, trying to calm myself. She wouldn’t have left me in the house alone, especially if she planned on being gone for a while. With unsure hands, I close the washer and decide to just be a grown-up and find my phone to call her. Maybe there’s a text waiting for me explaining where she ended up going.
I just hope she’s okay…
Her name fills my screen with the cute saved contact picture I took of her that first day, and I’m smiling like a fool looking down at it.
My stomach falls out of my ass when I hear her phone ringing from across the hall.
Her room.
Why wouldn’t she have her phone with her?
Even if she went for a run, she would’ve taken it, especially if she drove somewhere to do so. Any woman knows running outside is a dangerous gamble, one that you usually you take a weapon of some sort, but at the very least, your phone.
I’m back in her room, and on her nightstand, sitting there, still ringing, is her phone. I’m rackingmy brain, thinking of where she would’ve gone in such a rush, but nothing is making sense. Though not knowing her long, Tatum gives the exact opposite ofdrop everythingand run vibes. She’s incredibly levelheaded and seems to have her life together more than anyone I know.
I take a couple of deep breaths and try to center myself. The care I hold so deeply in my soul for this woman already is at a scary level, but I can’t shut it off. If anything, it’s getting heavier and heavier, and I’m tired of holding my feelings back.
But what if she doesn’t feel the same…
Her words from last night echo in my head,“Come for me, break for me, and you can have me. Whatever you want, baby, it’s yours.”And I want her. I want to live like this every day. I don’t think I could survive if I didn’t have Tatum in my orbit now.
And of course Josie too.
Josie, fuck, has something happened with her?
With Tatum not having her phone, I have no way of contacting her or even her parents. I don’t think she gave me their numbers, with them living so far away.
I feel fucking useless, and the need to comfort and help Tatum in any way is like a string tied around my heart, pulling. And that string seems tobe unraveling the longer I’m not aware of what’s going on.
