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He started to text her again, only to stop when he realized none of his previous ones had been read yet, which made him immediately wonder if she’d listened to any of his voicemails, either. It seemed unlikely that she’d listened to those, but wasn’t reading her texts, so he had to assume she was totally ignoring him, which was beyond troubling.
He was now officially freaked out.
She probably shouldn’t have been driving, but he forced himself to not think about her getting into an accident and focus on where she might go, instead. Her apartment seemed the most likely place, so he decided to try there. It couldn’t hurt … and it would give him something to do besides wait and pace.
Chapter 23
Paige blinked at the brightly lit Walgreens store, not knowing how she’d gotten there. She vaguely remembered fleeing David’s loft and getting in her car, but after that … nothing until the parking lot she was currently parked in. Rolling down her window, she let the air outside cool her hot skin; she’d never felt so ashamed in her life, and she burned from the inside with it.
The expression on David’s face had been reminiscent of the expression he’d worn the night he’d told her he was leaving her, and it was like her worst nightmare coming true. Paige sat there shaking, not knowing how to fix what she’d done, or if it could be fixed. She’d crossed a pretty big line, so chances were pretty good she and David were a done deal, and this time it really was her fault.
Needing to talk to Jules, Paige reached into her purse, only to discover her phone wasn’t in it. She’d apparently been in too much of a hurry when she’d left the loft to retrieve it from the floor, but then she’d also not taken the time to put her bra on, either, which officially made her a train wreck. A train wreck in need of a phone.
She glanced around the parking lot, hoping there might be a pay phone nearby she could use, but really not expecting there to be one. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen a pay phone—let alone actually used one—and was wondering if pay phones even existed anymore when she spotted one along the side of the building, to the left of the automatic sliding doors.
They did exist. And hopefully, this one worked.
Grabbing her purse, Paige made her way to the wall-mounted phone, which was partially surrounded by a metal frame. She set her purse on the metal shelf underneath and started foraging for change. The cost of a call was now fifty cents, so after finding some quarters, Paige gingerly lifted the handset off the hook and rubbed the ear and mouth pieces on her pant leg in an attempt to wipe off at least one layer of grime, before putting two quarters in the slot. At the dial tone, she paused to think of Jules’s number for several seconds, then punched it in.
It was answered almost immediately. “Yeah?”
Unless Jules was letting strange men who sounded like they were stoned surfers from southern California answer her phone, Paige had probably dialed the wrong number. With a sigh, she quickly apologized and disconnected the call.
She inserted two more quarters, then dialed again. This time, the phone rang several times before being picked up. “Hello?”
“Jules. Thank God,” Paige choked out, the sound of her friend’s voice unleashing a small wave of tears.
“Paige?”
“Yes, it’s me. I’m calling from a pay phone.”
“Oh, my God, I almost didn’t answer. Why are you calling from a pay phone?”
“I accidentally left my phone at David’s, but I needed to talk to you, so—”
“Do you know how dirty pay phones are? Jesus, I read somewhere that they have more germs than public toilets.”
At that, Paige pulled the phone a few inches away from her face. “Jules, please. I need to talk to you.”
“Wait. Are you crying? What’s wrong?”
Paige wiped at her nose. “I’m a rapist. That’s what’s wrong.”
“You’re a what? What are you talking about?”
“I’m. A. Rapist.”
After a very pregnant pause, Jules told her, “Hold on for a second.”
There was almost a minute of muffled conversation on the other end of the line, and Paige knew that she’d interrupted Jules and a man.
“All right,” Jules said, coming back on the line. “I’m back.”
“Shit, I’m sorry. You’re busy—”
“I’m never too busy for you, and he was sort of on the douchebag spectrum, anyway. Now, what do you mean, you’re a rapist?”
“I handcuffed David to his bed, and then I basically raped him. That’s what I mean.”
