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“Huh?” Caspian gasps, finally catching his breath.
“That’s him,” I reply, moving to take Finn’s seat. “The guy Finn suspected. He has the jacket from the video, and if he was the one who did this to your studio, then he was there the night Emma’s pictures were stolen.”
“Fuck,” Caspian grunts. “So what is he? A jealous ex? A jilted lover?”
“I’m not sure.” I took a quick screenshot. “But I bet Emma will know.”
We spend the rest of the afternoon looking for Mike but come up empty. Despite his impressive display of sickly innocence, he’s gone up and vanished.
I blame myself. If I hadn’t stepped in, Mike would have been in the hall when Caspian arrived and we would have had our answers. Instead, he slipped through our fingers. Before leaving campus, I supply security with a picture of Mike and his student ID. They promise to alert us if he reappears.
It’s late evening by the time we get back to Finn’s apartment and I hurry inside, eager to see Emma. We haven’t heard from her since she said she was driving home from her parents and I’m hoping she just fell asleep.
Only the bedroom is empty.
“Emma?” I call, checking the bathroom. Still nothing. I meet the others back in the lounge and we all share the same worried flicker of confusion. Emma isn’t here.
Finn calls her immediately but she doesn’t answer. He sends her a text but there’s no reply. With Mike in the wind, and him being our prime suspect, the hairs prickle on the back of my neck.
“You don’t think…?” I say, unwilling to finish that sentence in case it becomes a reality.
“I’ll call Meghan,” Caspian says. Finn calls Emma again and I bite the bullet and call her father. There’s a chance she went back to see them, and I can only hope that they changed their tune and realized their daughter was worth more than life.
The call is sharp and abrupt, ending within fifteen seconds. I turn back to the others, pressing my lips into a firm line.
“She’s not with her parents.”
“Meghan says they had a call but she was heading home at the time,” Caspian says.
“Still no answer,” Finn mutters, hitting the redial once again.
“Fuck. Fuck!” In any other situation, perhaps we would explain it away as Emma getting food or away for a walk. Deep down I know none of those excuses mean anything.
She’s gone.
Emma is missing and we have no idea where to look for her.
37
EMMA
Hot pain throbs at the back of my skull, seeping through the comforting darkness I find myself in. I want to stay here. If I sink further down, then the pain will lessen, and I can return to the dreams of my men.
I want to sleep.
My lower lip twitches and pulls slightly, highlighting how dry it is, so I slide my tongue out to wet it. But my mouth is dry, parched like a desert. I swallow and something catches in my throat, tickling enough to pull me further from my slumber. I can’t stop the cough rising up and it escapes me in a harsh, dry rush.
Suddenly, something clamps down around my jaw and jerks my head upward, flaring the pain in my skull. I yelp and my eyes flutter, leaking my surroundings to me in quick, vibrant flashes.
Then I see him.
“M—Mike?” My speech is sluggish and slightly slurred as I force myself awake, and confusion swirls like tight static in my chest. I try to move but only my legs listen. Pressure around my wrists prevents my arms from lowering and the confusion becomes a tight band.
“About time you woke up,” Mike says, and his voice drifts slightly like the lingering end of a song you pause too quickly. “I was getting impatient.”
Mike. Mike was here? Why was Mike here?
He crouches in front of me, holding my head up by gripping my chin. I try to turn away from him but his grip is unrelenting. His fingertips press into my soft cheeks, preventing my lips from closing properly.
