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38
Ethan
The minutes tick by agonizingly slowly as I sit in the restaurant, my nerves fraying with each passing moment. I glance at my watch for what feels like the hundredth time, my heart sinking with each second that slips away.
Jessy should have been here over an hour ago. The last text she sent me was when she told me that she was dressed after I told her that my driver was out front.
The drive from her apartment to the restaurant is just thirty minutes. I reach for my phone and I dial Jessy’s number. The phone rings and rings, but there’s no answer.
I don’t know why, but panic begins to bubble up inside me, a gnawing sense of unease settling in the pit of my stomach.
I have been trying to reach my driver, too, and his number isn’t going through either.
With a growing sense of dread, I end the call and try again, hoping against hope that she’ll pick up this time. But once again, the phone rings and rings, each unanswered ring sending a chill down my spine.
Just as I’m about to dial her number again, my phone buzzes in my hand. It’s my driver. I answer the call with a sense of urgency, my heart pounding in my chest.
“What’s going on?” I demand, my voice tense with worry.
“Mr. Reid, I’ve been up to Miss Jessica’s apartment,” his voice comes through the line, tight with concern. “But there’s no answer. I knocked on her door several times, but she didn’t respond.”
Dread washes over me like a tidal wave as his words sink in—Jessy isn’t home. A thousand thoughts race through my mind, each one more terrifying than the last.
“She’s not picking up her phone either,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “Something’s not right.”
I am paralyzed by fear as I realize that she could be in danger. Every instinct in me screams to rush to her side, to make sure she’s safe.
My heart pounds in my chest as I race out of the restaurant, my mind consumed with worry for Jessy.
The owner of the restaurant calls out after me, confusion etched on his face, but I barely register his words as I fumble for my keys.
“Mr. Reid, is there a problem?”
“I need to check on my girlfriend,” I mumble in response, my voice strained with urgency, before bolting out the door.
“Isn’t she supposed to join you?” he calls out, his voice laced with confusion, but I don’t bother answering him.
I know he went through a lot of trouble canceling all the other guests’ reservations just so Jess and I could have the place all to ourselves.
The drive to Jessy’s apartment feels like an eternity, each passing moment weighed down by the heavy dread that gnaws at my insides. I keep trying to reach her on the phone, but it just rings without an answer.
When I finally arrive, I practically leap out of the car, my footsteps echoing in the empty street as I rush towards her building.
I bound up the stairs two at a time, my heart pounding in my ears with each step. When I reach her door, I bang on it with a sense of urgency, calling out her name desperately. But there’s no response, just an eerie silence that hangs heavy in the air.
Panic sets in as my mind races with a thousand terrible possibilities. With trembling hands, I try the doorknob, but it’s locked tight. Without hesitation, I step back and throw my shoulder against the door with all my strength.
The wood splinters under the force of my blow, and the door swings open with a loud crash. I stumble into the apartment, my heart in my throat as I take in the scene before me.
Furniture lies overturned, cushions scattered across the floor. The air is thick with tension; the atmosphere charged with an unsettling energy that sends shivers down my spine.
“Jessy?” I call out, my voice echoing in the empty room. But there’s no answer, just an oppressive silence that presses down on me like a weight.
Fear grips me like a vise as I search the apartment, my heart hammering in my chest with each passing moment.
The sight of her belongings strewn about only serves to heighten my anxiety, fueling the growing sense of dread that gnaws at me from within.
And then I notice it on the floor of her living room.
