Chapter 50
FIFTY
ISAAK
I wake up feeling better than I have in… well, I can’t remember the last time when I felt this good. I sit up in bed and stretch.
“Kira?” I call, yawning, arms still over my head. “Babe, you in the bathroom?”
No response.
That little witch is probably waiting to jump out and scare the shit outta me. I laugh, feeling ten thousand pounds lighter than when we signed into this hotel. I can’t believe that the ’shrooms actually worked.
But fuck, if I don’t feel better. Like everything I understood in that deep place that felt almost like the womb of the world, I still understand. It still feels… deeply with me. I was never into spiritual shit, but it feels something like that.
“Kira? You taking a bath in here?” I walk into the bathroom, but she’s not there.
Maybe she went down to grab some breakfast from one of the restaurants in the hotel? Or to grab takeout?
But I frown when I see her phone on the table.
Kira wouldn’t go down to breakfast without her phone. That thing’s generally attached to her at the hip.
A bad feeling suddenly hits me low in my gut.
Something’s wrong.
Suddenly, I can barely breathe, and I’m so sure something’s gone really, really wrong. I remember everything else I learned on my journey when I was at the height of euphoria. The strings and how perilously we’re all held together. Just specks of dust, one consequence away from being blown back into the cosmos.
Fine. That’s fine. I don’t give a shit if I’m just a speck of fucking dust.
But not Kira.
Not fucking Kira.
I whip my belt on around my jeans, jam my feet into my boots without bothering to tie them, and storm down to the lobby.
People are checking out, but I don’t have the patience to wait in line.
“I’m sorry, excuse me.” I push my way up to the front of the line. “My—My wife is missing.” She will be my wife one day, and no one takes you seriously if you say it’s just your girlfriend.
“It’s a big city, sir,” the attendant says. “I’m sure she just went out for coffee.”
“Not without her phone.” I hold it up. “She doesn’t go anywhere without her phone. Something’s gone wrong.”
And then it hits me in the guts. “She has a stalker. He could’ve followed us here. Call the police.”
We assumed her student was the stalker but didn’t really have confirmation. He didn’t confess to anything; he just had a knife and said he loved her. That’s not necessarily the same thing as someone who can hack complex hotel security systems. For all we know, he was just a mixed up kid who took a psychology class in the first place because he knew he needed help, then got overly attached to Kira since she’s a compassionate listener.
Fuck! How did I not see this as a possibility?
“Call them!” I pound the counter and the startled attendant behind the counter picks up the phone shakily and nods.
“I’m calling!”
I stride away from the counter after I hear the attendant say, “911? Yes, hi. We have an emergency.”
I sit down hard on one of the lobby couches and drag my hands through my hair. What the fuck have I done? I took my eyes off the ball at the most critical point. I left her vulnerable, just in time for someone to swoop in.
You don’t know that. Maybe she just popped out to get some bagels?
Her phone clutched in my hand says otherwise.
I look down at it, opening it with her passcode to see if any more messages have come through, but there’s nothing except some shit from her mom yesterday asking what she’s wearing to her bridal shower and demanding Kira call her back. A couple messages from Drew asking about the same. Whoops. Guess Kira blanked on the shower. Granted, we were a little busy.
My hand goes to my chest. She was busy helping me.
Only for me to let her down completely now. I bang a fist against the pain clenching my chest, but it does nothing to help.
I only stand up again when I hear sirens coming down the road and stopping directly outside. Oh, thank god. They’ll be able to compel the hotel to pull up the tapes so we can see when Kira went through the lobby, the direction she went when she left the hotel, and if anyone was following her.
I try to suck in a breath through my clenched teeth as I head over to the uniformed police pouring in through the hotel’s double doors.
They have their weapons drawn. Holy shit. Did they get some other tip about the stalker still being here? I look around the lobby. Could he still have Kira here somewhere?
It’s only when I look back at the entrance that I see the swarming cops are headed in my direction.
I barely have a second to throw my hands up in the air before the first one slams me in the back and takes me down to the hotel carpet face first.
“Wait! What’s going on? I’m not the stalker! You’ve got the wrong man!”
“Are you Isaak Luther?”
“What? Yes. How did you?—”
“You’re under arrest for the stalking and kidnapping of Kira Roberts.”
“What the fuck?!”
“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used?—”
“What the hell are you talking about? I’m her bodyguard, not her stalker. I didn’t kidnap her. We came on a road trip!”
“—against you in a court of law. If you cannot afford an attorney?—”
I scream into the carpet in fury as a knee drops to my back, three policemen holding me down while another cuffs my wrists behind my back.