42. Bailey
forty-two
Bailey
The cold tile feels good on my face. Banging. Loud banging. Rattling? Yeah, that’s a rattle of something. Doorknob?
THWAP!
What the fuck.
“Bailey! Open up! What the fuck are you doing in there?” Huh? That’s wild because it legitimately sounds like Liam but Liam’s at Kyle’s house and I’m in my bathroom at home. Dreams are weird. “Bailey! Open the fucking door or I’m coming in!”
“Liam?” I choke out. It’s dark as fuck in here. I can’t see. Open your eyes, jackass. I wince as the room comes into focus. White subway tiles and a claw foot tub. Nope. Not mine.
“That’s it, I’m coming in.” There’s a loud thud and the door swings open. I groan and cover my eyes with my arm as the light from the hallway pours in.
“Liam? What the hell?” He looks angry. Did I miss something? Wait, no. Not angry. Liam looks worried.
Is Lolly okay?
Liam’s seen me passed out drunk countless times so I can’t comprehend why this would be any different. Something’s wrong.
“Bays, I can’t get ahold of Nat. Where’s your phone?”
Nat? Our Nat? I pat my jeans until I find my phone and pull it out. Liam snatches it from me.
“Password,” he demands.
“Use my face,” is all I get out. I always use the facial recognition thingy to unlock it and can’t remember my four digit code right now.
Liam shoves the phone in my face and pales when he studies it closer.
“Nothing. No texts. No missed calls. She always texts us when she makes it home. Always. You know this as well as I do.” He runs his hands through his hair for what seems like the hundredth time. “Fuck, Bailey this isn’t like her. Get up off the floor we have to find Nat.”
His voice is shaking, I’ve never seen Liam like this and I’m sobering up quicker than should be humanly possible.
Fear snakes around my chest like a wraith.
Nat always texts when she gets home.
Always.
He’s right.
“Where’s Peyton?” I manage to mumble as I slowly stand, head spinning and nausea threatening to win the game of gravity versus booze.
“She went home, said she wasn’t feeling well and was annoyed because you were passed out on Kyle’s bathroom floor. Leave your keys here, I’ll bring you back for your car when you can complete a full sentence.”
I follow Liam out the front door and shakily open the passenger door. Liam gets in after me and buckles his seatbelt. The radio isn’t playing and we’re both as still as our own breath.
Fuck.
My heart pounds in my ears as he puts the car in drive. Nat’s apartment is only five minutes from here but it feels like an eternity. “I’m scared,” Liam admits, voice trembling.
“Me too,” I whisper.
Nat’s driveway is empty. Liam jumps out of the car before I can get a word out of my worthless mouth. I squint to see him banging on her front door, he reaches in his pocket and then lets himself in.
Why does he have a key to Nat’s apartment?
My skin isn’t fitting. I’m terrified and I don’t know what to do with my hands.
I don’t know how much time has passed since Liam walked inside. I don’t appreciate time in this moment—nothing but apprehension and fucking fear exist. It’s agony.
I tell myself I’m overreacting, that I’m just drunk and forgetting some major detail like Nat having told me she was going home with someone.
I can’t remember a significant part of the evening so it’s not out of the question.
Plausible, even.
She won’t drive if she’s been drinking.
There has to be an easy answer, Liam and I just went from zero to worried as fuck too quickly to find it.
Liam exits the house, not stopping to lock the door. His face is pale, eyes wide. “She’s not here.”
She’s not home.
Nat isn’t home.
Okay, we can figure this out.
My stomach lurches, threatening to spew as a wave of terror wracks me.
Calm down, Bailey. Liam is scared too. Keep it together. Liam’s phone light illuminates his profile as he makes a call.
“Liam? What’s up man?” A voice on the other line says, the cavalier tone giving the owner’s identity away immediately. Fucking prick.
“Kyle! When was the last time you saw Nat? Did she say anything to you about leaving? Did she leave with someone else?” Liam fires question after question, voice thick with concern.
“She left earlier, man,” he gets out before Liam interjects.
“What? What time? What fucking time did she leave Kyle and who was she with?” he presses.
“Hell, maybe two hours ago? Why? She was in a mood and just bounced. Left by herself.”
Time stands still. Liam doesn’t speak and I don’t breathe. The fear radiating from both of us is palpable. I open the door and vomit, tears streaming down my face.
“Liam. Drive back to Kyle’s. Take the same route but slower this time,” I somehow manage to say.
“Fuck!” Liam yells as he smashes his fists into his steering wheel. “Okay. You’re right. Let’s go. Rinse and spit,” he says, handing me a water bottle to wash my mouth out. “I’m calling the police. I’d have you do it but you’re still slurring for fuck’s sake.”
I shrink in my seat, shame enveloping me, settling down, right next to fear. Nat, I need you to be okay.
Please be okay
The roaring in my head is so loud I can’t hear Liam. I just need—on a molecular level—Nat to be okay and for this to be a huge misunderstanding. I need us to laugh about this later and I need Liam to turn that goddamn music off. It’s shrill, and its violent whirs are making a mockery of my sanity.
I push my palms into my eyes until I see stars. Brilliant bursts of colors explode, mixing with the overwhelming terror and that fucking sound.
Please, make it stop.
Please.
My gut threatens to spill its contents again as I open my eyes, preparing to demand that Liam turn the fucking music off.
My vision settles, appreciating only one of Liam after a few seconds and some squinting.
My chest aches and I have to force myself not to pull up his contact in my phone. I’m not even thinking clearly but he’s the only person I want to talk to.
Lolly.
I want to call him. I need him to tell me I’m just overreacting. I need him to tell me he’s got me.
“Dude, turn that shit off. I can’t handle it right now,” I bark.
“What? Turn what off?” I hear. His voice sounds like a distant echo, disembodied and altered.
Why is he fucking with me right now?
I bring my eyes to his profile in concentration. I must still be pretty fucked up because it looks like his face is underwater. Blurry and undulating somehow.
Blue.
Liam’s face flashes blue and my breath hitches as I look beyond him to the road and see the flashing blue lights of a police vehicle fly past us.
It’s too loud. Too loud and too bright. Turn it down, Liam.
“Bailey,” Liam says, voice quaking.
I bring my gaze back to him and intend to answer but the words never form, never escape my lips.
Red.
It’s loud again.
Liam’s face is flashing red. I don’t have to look away to know that an ambulance is passing us.
“Bailey,” he whispers.
Again I try to answer but my voice refuses to cooperate, burying itself next to my hope.
“Bailey, fuck. Bailey oh my god, FUCK!” he screams.
I shudder at the sound as I slowly make out the scene before us. Two police cars and an ambulance.
The embankment.
Headlights.
Two police cars and an ambulance.
Why are they parking near the embankment?
Whose headlights are those?
“Liam,” I squeak, voice cracking as he pulls behind the emergency vehicles and jumps out of the car.
I can’t move.
I can’t.