Page 46 of Let's Play Pretend

She’s gone. But where? To the bathroom?

“Hannah?” I call out, but get only silence back. I raise my voice a couple of decibels. “Hannah?”

My heart starts to thunder as I push the sheets aside, standing naked in the dark. I flick on the bedside lamp and see nothing. No sign of her.

Her clothes are gone from the floor, her shoes missing from by the door.

I rush to the bathroom and throw open the door, but I already know what I’m going to see. Nothing but darkness.

It’s then that I spot the cell phone I gave her along with the necklace and a note on the writing table.

Mr. Belotti,

Thank you for making me feel special, and like a dumbass. I told myself I’d be honest so, I loved being with you. Being Jamie was fun and sexy and I don’t believe in regret so I’ll figure out the lesson in all of this someday.

I know it has to come to an end, and I understand my part in screwing things up. Note to self…don’t have sex up against windows. It’s messy in more ways than one.

So, yeah, you got a text confirming your flight to Grand Cayman. Don’t forget your sunscreen. You’re a pretty pale guy.

I’m taking your jacket because it’s cold outside and in all the stuff you bought for me there was no coat and I don’t want any of it anyway. I think it’s best if you don’t contact me.

Your pretend daughter for a minute,

Hannah

I let out a howl of rage as I cross the room, picking up my phone and looking at the text message blaring out on the lock screen. Confirming my booking on a one-way private flight to the Cayman Islands.

One. Ticket. Today.

Fuck.

I’ve never pulled my clothes on faster. I rush out of the room like a madman, thumping the elevator button for the lobby so hard it cracks the plastic.

It’s all a mess. I couldn’t explain to her what I was doing, because I would have been forced to tell her everything, all about the work I did for the Albanians, all about how I screwed up their business model when I found out they were smuggling humans like cattle. All about the fact they’ll kill me if I don’t get this deal done.

I couldn’t put all that on her.

But now she thinks I was going to run. Without her. And I’m not sure which is worse.

“I need a car.” I slip the security guard outside the front door a hundred bucks. “Like now, man.”

He shrugs. “I’ll call for one. You want an Uber or a limo?”

“Man, I need acar,” I implore, my voice near pleading, which I wasn’t sure I knew how to do. “It’s about a girl.”

He stares at me for a beat, then nods, reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket and hands over a key on a silver chain. “Been there, man. Been there. Take mine. It’s a piece of shit, but it will get you where you’re going. Just get it back to me by six, okay? It’s all I got.”

I pull out my phone. “You got Cash App?”

He nods, snapping his tongue along his top teeth. Then gives me his Cash App ID.

I tap my screen, then shove my phone back in my pocket. “That should do it. I won’t have time to bring your car back, get yourself something nice.”

He pulls out his cell and does a double take when he looks at the screen.

“Allllright, man.” He hisses on a nod, holding out a fist for me to bump. “Go get your girl, man. It’s the burgundy Buick LaCross. You gotta stomp the gas to get it to start.” He raises his hand, pointing toward the elevator to the left. “Sub level four, section 8. Gate will open when you pull up.”

I nod a thank you and break into a run.

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