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Silence echoes back, the lack of noise ringing around in my ears as I wheel around and take in the sight of Cedar’s setup all packed up.
The wrap now gone from the chair, the cleaner bottles stashed somewhere out of sight, the array of colored ink she’d left out for ease missing.
Even the trash is empty when I peek in to check.
What the fuck?
Even the music has stopped in her absence, the crowd a calmer buzz in the background of the festival that I don’t hear over the sound of my blood rushing and my heart beating in my ears.
Where is she?
Flexing my fist with a ticking jaw, I check the final spot in the tattoo tent to know for sure if she’s gone.
The cash drawer.
Stalking around the little podium-esque stand and smashing around the shelves I’ve seen Cedar hide shit on, I come up with nothing.
Nothing.
It’s gone, too.
A wave of cold rushes over my torso and snakes its way into my gut with such a sense of finality that I want to scream. Yell. Smash something.
She’s gone.
And I’ve gotta fucking find her.
“Yo.”
Practically seething with the roller coaster this woman continues to put me on, I turn my pumped chest to my bodyguard, who looks a lot like someone I want to punch.
“Where have you been?” Peach growls at me through gritted teeth and a day old shirt.
“I am fucking sick of people asking me that question.” I shoulder check the orange-haired wall of man standing between me and my path to find my woman. But he stands against the movement and forces me back with palms to my chest.
“You don’t get to fucking say that to me.” Peach’s light eyes bore into mine, his heavy hand landing on my shoulder, his fingertips digging in. “Not after what we all just left.”
“Don’t you ever bring it up again,” I growl menacingly and jerk from his grip.
“Fine,” he scoffs out and steps right into my space, close enough that I might explode. “Your disappearing acts need to stop, Fin. The world knows it’s you.”
The picture.
The cold grip of anxiety digs its artic fingers into my stomach once again, and I have to take a step back as the realization sets in.
Cedar.
“Peach?” His head dips but shakes, and my features fall. “What about Cedar?”
Is this what it feels like to love someone?
And then lose them?
“Where the fuck is she?”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
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