Page 22 of Save Me

“That’s okay.” I’m checking under bushes too, looking around the neighbor’s evergreen shrub. “Did you close the door all the way?”

“Yes? No? I mean, yes,” Micah’s voice drifts from where he’s checking the neighbor’s side yard. “I always close the door, but he’s fast. He could have slipped out? I didn’t think I needed to put him up. I was only gonna be gone five minutes!”

“Did you check inside?”

“Rattled his treats and everything; he’s not in there. This is all my fault.”

Micah is moving and talking so fast that I try to slow it down. It’s possible that Princess snuck past him, but if he did, there’s no way he’s still close, so searching outside has expanded to half the city.

My stomach sinks. No. He can’t have gotten out. If he did…I can’t even consider what would happen if he did.

So that leaves the potential that he’s still inside. Which isn’t very good either, because if he isn’t coming, he could be hurt.

I feel hot and cold at the same time, and I bolt up Micah’s front steps. I almost run inside, then get the weird feeling that this isn’t my house, and I can’t just be going in without permission. So I stop, awkwardly. “I’m checking inside!”

I don’t see Micah anymore, and he doesn’t respond. Then he pops around the edge of the house, flustered panic in his eyes.

“I’m checking in here,” I tell him, and he just gives a nod, spinning in a circle again and shouting for Princess.

I make quick work of the downstairs, calling Princess’ name and scouting every corner. Micah’s house is clean and organized, and it doesn’t take long. Then I move upstairs to a territory I’ve never been to before. It feels…weirdly intimate. Like I shouldn’t be here without him.

Upstairs is what I presume is his bedroom, which is slightly messier than the rest of the house, with blue lights over the bed and a TV mounted on the other side of the wall.

“Princess? You hungry? Dinnertime! Treats! Celery.” I try every word I can think of that he’d possibly know. “You wanna go on a walk? Stroller!”

Under the bed is pretty bare, minus a few shoes. When I flip up the covers to check underneath, I notice the bed frame is pretty chewed up. I make my quick rounds of the rest of the upstairs, which includes a guest bedroom and bathroom.

Nothing.

I force myself to slow down, despite my beating heart. If he’s hurt, maybe he’s making sounds I can’t hear. Gasping. Gurgling. Whining.

I stop moving in the hallway and listen. Micah shouts outside, the AC blows, and I hear…nothing, just the blood rushing in my ears.

Swallowing, I force a deep breath in through my nose and out through my mouth, listening again.

That’s when I hear it. A slight humming sound. No, not humming. It’s a grumbly noise that starts, then stops, then starts again. Moving toward the bedroom, I listen again. It’s louder now. I step inside, searching. Where the hell is it? What the hell is it? Is it…snoring?

“Maddox?” Micah calls from downstairs.

“Up here.”

The snoring gets louder toward the bed, so I rip the blankets off, then slow down in case Princess is inside.

Micah comes pounding up the steps. “I can’t find him; he’s not coming to my calls; he always comes!”

I move all the pillows, but after a thorough search, Princess isn’t there.

“Is he there? What are you doing?”

I motion for Micah to be quiet, and over the sounds of his heavy breathing, I hear it again. It’s definitely snoring.

Then I remember the frayed bed frame. Ducking down, I check the boxspring. Sure enough, it’s ripped to shreds, and my heart races. Flattening myself on my stomach, I check up under the frame.

Right in front of me is a hole in the fabric of the box spring. It’s dark, but there’s definitely a hole.

Micah drops down beside me, and I grab for my phone, hand trembling, and turn on the flashlight. There, tucked up inside the box spring, is Princess, fast asleep.

The relief that hits my system is instantaneous. That pressure lifts, and for a second, I’m floating.