Page 49 of Marked

Sixteen

It’s almost midnight when I finally step back into my apartment, dripping wet from the sudden downpour. I toe off my soggy flats and leave them by the door before hurrying to my bathroom for a shower, trailing water as I go. As I wait for the water to heat, I peel the soaking turtleneck off my body before struggling to pull off the slacks suction-cupped to my legs.

Finally free of my wet clothing, I slip into my shower and groan in bliss as the hot water pelts down on me. Closing my eyes, I stand there for a few moments and soak in the comfort the heat provides. Then the day catches up to me, and the pushed down emotions slam into me all at once. My knees feel like they’re about to buckle, so I lower myself to the floor before they can give out. Wrapping my arms around my legs, I press my forehead to my knees and finally let the tears come.

I couldn’t find Taylor.

I met up with Bryan after leaving the scene this morning, and together we searched for her. Las Vegas is so densely populated, it’s harder than trying to find a needle in a haystack. Still, we went to all her favorite places, talked to her family, and even went to some of the casinos with her picture.

Nothing.

Five to seven people a day go missing in Vegas, more than two hundred people a month, and the rate of finding them is abysmal. I refuse to let Taylor be part of that statistic, but I’m also at a loss for what to do next. We tried tracking her phone, but it’s off.

The tiny spare time I had not thinking about Taylor was divided between the case and Jack. Okay, it was mostly Jack. Every time I tried to think of the case and the new victim, Jack popped up and took over my thoughts.

I was mean to him. I know I was. I didn’t mean it when I said that it was only a fuck. We both know there’s more than just attraction between us. It’s not love, I’ve only known the guy for two weeks, but there’s a connection I can’t deny. A pull that makes me yearn for him.

However, I stand firm on the part where he doesn’t have a right to dictate anything in my life. I’m a grown ass woman who can make her own decisions.

Still, I can acknowledge that I was a bit harsh by snapping at him. The case, Taylor’s disappearance, Seth, and then Jack just completely undermining my ability to defend myself just set me off. The suppressed stress and buildup of emotions didn’t help, and they all came out at once in the wrong way. At perhaps the wrong target, too. A part of me wants to apologize to Jack, but another stubborn part wants him to come to me.

A fresh wave of tears come, and I press my forehead harder against my knees. The sob that was about to escape my throat turns into a startled gasp when my shower curtain is flung open, the metal rings holding the fabric screaming in protest.

Standing there, looking so relieved, is sopping wet Jack.

I want to scream at him. Scream at him for breaking into my apartment and scaring me. For undermining my strength and ability to take care of myself. For seeing me so vulnerable right now.

I want to scream about the injustice that my best friend of all people is missing. That it’s not fair, and that it should be me instead of her. That I’m terrified she’s going to be one of the girls on my whiteboard.

Instead, that sob finally breaks free.

This frustrating man that has me all tied up in knots climbs into my bathtub still fully clothed. Not fazed by the hot water, he sits down and pulls me into his lap. I don’t even try to fight him.

“I’m here,” he says, voice strained.

I cling to his soaked shirt, bury my face in his neck, and cry harder. He cradles the back of my head, his cheek resting on my wet hair. Never once does he ask me what’s wrong or push me to talk about it and that in itself means a lot to me.

We stay there for a while, him holding me until my sobs turn into sniffles and my skin begins to prune.

“You scared me,” he finally whispers, the sound almost drowned out by the water.

I adjust myself in his lap so my head is leaning against his shoulder. “What?”

The arm around my waist tightens while the fingers of his other hand tangle in my hair, gripping it just a little tighter. “I couldn’t find you.”

My brow furrows. “What do you mean?”

“After you left this morning. I thought you would go back to the office, but you never did.” He lets out a small sigh. “After your altercation with Seth, our victims, and with Taylor’s disappearance, I assumed the worst.”

I move so I’m facing him, my legs on either side of his hips. “Didn’t Scott tell you I took the rest of the day off?”

“Not until later,” he replies, gaze holding mine. “But even afterwards I looked for you. I drove past your apartment three times, and your truck wasn’t there. When I saw it just now, I couldn’t help it. I had to make sure you were okay.”

“So, you break into my apartment and scare the shit out of me?” I tease, trying to lighten the heavy mood and erase the worry lingering in his eyes.

His cheeks pink in response. “Well, when you put it like that it sounds creepy.”

I manage a soft, weak laugh. “Just a little.”

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