Page 84 of Demon Loved
When he meets my gaze, his eyes are shadowed.
“I had my suspicions, but I didn’t know anything for sure. Not until…” He trails off, his teeth biting down on his lower lip, but I heard enough. It’s virtually impossible to see through the tears cascading down my cheeks.
Away. I need to get away.
This time, when I run towards the house, none of them stop me. None of them call me back.
I’m sure I look like a hot fucking mess with tear marks on my cheeks and mascara underneath both of my eyes. I contemplate going to the bathroom and wiping myself clean before I find Adam. He’ll be worried if he sees the state I’m in.
But the house is quiet when I step inside. Though the porch light is on, the rest of the house is plunged in darkness.
“Sasha? Adam?” My pulse skitters as I venture a tentative step forward.
Where are the guys? Why are they still outside?
And where are Adam and Sasha?
“Guys?” My voice wobbles as I reach into my pocket and grab my phone. I have Sasha on speed dial and press five on my phone. It rings four times before she picks up, sounding breathless and giggly. In the background, I can hear male voices and loud laughter.
What the fuck?
“Sasha,” I ask, my voice alarmed. I scrub a hand across my eyes to collect the remaining tears. “Where are you? Why aren’t you here? Where’s Adam?”
There’s a long pause, and then the line turns quiet, almost as if she moved to an isolated spot. “What do you mean?”
“The porch light was on, but the lights inside were off—”
“Oh shoot! Did I forget to turn the light off when I left? I’m sorry, girl. It’s been a crazy night,” she says, and the tiny blob of panic inside of me begins to build faster than someone rolling a ball of snow to make a snowman.
“Where’s Adam?” I ask desperately as the door behind me opens and closes, my demons entering the house at last.
“I thought…” I can hear the frown in her voice. “Didn’t they tell you?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” My voice is sharper than I intended it to be, but I can feel myself teetering the precarious line between panic and sanity.
“Your parents,” she explains, and those two words destroy whatever remains of my heart. “They picked him up an hour or so ago.”
