Rushing back to the bedroom he yanked open the drawers in his dresser and noticed that most of her clothes that had been folded and put beside his were gone. “Oh, fuck!” he yelled as he hurried to the closet. There were some of her things, but unfortunately he’d not paid enough attention to where she’d unpacked everything to know if there was anything gone or not.
He ran back to the bathroom. “I’m gonna kick this fucking door in, Emmalyn. If you’re in there, say so now!”
Brandt heard the shouted threat and hurried to the bathroom. “What’s going on?” Brandt asked.
“I’m not sure,” Barron said, taking a step back from the bathroom door and kicking it right below the door handle. The door splintered and sprung open, kind of wobbling on its hinges. Barron barged into the bathroom but almost immediately froze in his tracks. “Fuck!” he yelled.
Brandt stood right behind him, looking at the message scrawled across Barron’s bathroom mirror.
Written across the mirror in the dark mauve lipstick she favored was, ‘I should have known better. Asshole. PS: Your voice carries all over this fucking house.’
“Why would she leave? You said last night was great. You said how good you feel. You didn’t say anything derogatory,” Brandt said.
Barron stood still, staring at the message she’d left. Eventually he turned slowly to meet Brandt’s gaze. “Unless she only heard the first part. If she didn’t stick around to hear the rest, she might have misunderstood. Maybe she thinks that I was playing her.”
Brandt thought about the beginning of their conversation. “Oh, shit. Yeah, the first few minutes would have sounded bad if she didn’t stick around for the rest. Fuck… we just have to make her listen to the rest of it. You have any idea where she’d have gone?”
“Analise’s? But she knows I’d check there first. So, most likely she’s not there.”
“Anywhere else?” Brandt asked.
“If she’s not there… I don’t know. I honestly do not know. But I’m gonna find her. I have to find her, Brandt.”
“Let me try,” Brandt said. “She always answers me.”
Brandt reached out telepathically — with his head voice, and got nothing. Then he tried to nudge her, to let her know that he wanted to contact her, but he still got nothing.
Barron in the meantime tried to connect with her through their bond, but he could literally feel it slam shut on him. “Sonofabitch.” He pushed past Brandt and went back in the bedroom, grabbing his phone off the nightstand. He dialed Bam’s number and waited for Bam to answer. “Uncle Bam! Would Emmalyn happen to be there?” he asked.
“You lost her already, didn’t you?” Bam asked wryly.
“It’s just a misunderstanding. We’ll laugh about it when I explain it to her,” Barron said, trying to force a laugh.
“If you find her. She ain’t here, boy. And for whatever reason Kaid has us all on a tighter security. You better find my daughter.”
“Yes, sir. I’m on it,” Barron said, not even bothering to say goodbye.
“She’s not there?” Brandt asked.
“No. I’m going out to look for her,” Barron said, walking out of the bedroom as he dialed Emmalyn’s number. “Hey! It’s me. Answer the phone Emmalyn. I know what you think you heard, but you’re wrong. Answer the damn phone. And call me back.” He ended the call and glanced over his shoulder at Brandt. “I’m going to Havoc’s and Analise’s,” he said.
“Makes sense. Maybe she went there thinking you’d think she wouldn’t because you’d know she’d go there.”
“What?” Barron asked.
“Don’t ask me to say that again. I’m not sure I can,” Brandt said.
“I’ll let you know if she’s there,” Barron said, striding for the door.
“I’ll turn off everything in your kitchen and lock up. I’ll meet you there.”
Chapter 8
“What I don’t understand is why she ran from you. If she agreed to go with you — which, yay you by the way — why did she run? What did you do?” Analise asked, standing at her front door with her hands on her hips, with Havoc right behind her.
“Nothing! I didn’t do anything! You know how she is,” Barron said defensively, his eyes darting away nervously.
“Also know a lie when I smell one,” Analise said.
