25. Chapter Twenty-Five #2
“It’s fine.” More than fine. Then I latched onto something Tyler had said after Sarah’s name. “What story?”
Tyler winced, produced a lollipop from his pocket, and twirled the stick between his fingers. “I forgot you wouldn’t know. Shit. Sorry. Mia’s Google alerts are out of control.”
“What story?” I held out my hand for Tyler’s phone. “Show me.”
Reluctantly, Tyler removed his phone from his pocket and opened something before passing the device to me. At first, I let the video play without understanding the significance. A man outside a small red brick bungalow was giving an interview about Alyssa. Then, his name flashed on the screen.
Ricky. With the word boyfriend attached.
Was this house Alyssa’s? Why was Ricky at her house? I shook my head, barely hearing anything in the interview. I closed the tab and searched a few hashtags on social media. A knot formed in my stomach.
Ricky’s interview meant the narrative around Alyssa had shifted again. Instead of being known as a dance choreographer worthy of high praise, she was being accused of using me to further her career. She must be so upset.
I pressed my fingers to my temple. The letter in my back pocket increased in weight and substance. “Something’s wrong.” The certainty settle d over me like fresh cement. “He shouldn’t be there.” The feeling hardened, became concrete.
Tyler took back his phone from my outstretched hand. “Mia tried to call her but didn’t get an answer.”
Ricky was at Alyssa’s house, and Alyssa wasn’t answering her phone.
Panic was creeping in at the thought of something happening to Alyssa, of her being forced into something she didn’t want.
I took my phone out of my pocket, found Alyssa’s name, and hit Call before I could question my instinct.
No ring. Straight to voicemail. I held Tyler’s gaze. “Something is wrong.”
“Should we call the police?”
My face must have given away the growing storm in my gut.
Alyssa wouldn’t have welcomed Ricky back.
Olivia was supposed to be the one at the house, not the lying, cheating thief.
I hadn’t heard from Alyssa, since she’d told me it was too hard to say goodbye.
Of course, I hadn’t texted again either. Why hadn’t I texted her back?
“No, no. No police.” Police seemed like an overreaction. There was no proof something was wrong, but my gut instinct was on high alert, prodding me to do something rash.
“I’ll talk to Mia. We’ll change the flight plan—drop you off in Chicago so you can go straight to her house. I’m sure Mia has her address somewhere.”
“Yes. Yes.” I redialed Alyssa and cursed when the call went straight to voicemail again. My panic was quickly chased out by anger. Someone had done Alyssa wrong. I just prayed she was okay. “I need to get to her.”
The ride to her house was painstakingly long.
Every few minutes, I tried to call. Either her phone was switched off or her battery was dead.
Visions of her hurt and helpless sat at the edges of my consciousness, just waiting for me to let panic get a firm grip.
Fate couldn’t be cruel enough to do this to me twice.
Once I saw her, this tightness in my chest would ease, and the weight of uncertainty wouldn’t bear down across my shoulders.
I checked all her social media accounts obsessively, looking for any sign she’d been active since the day she’d texted. Nothing. Nothing. I sent her a text.
Where are you, Alyssa?
No delivery notification, and I willed the word read to magically appear.
The cab drew level with the curb, and my heart kicked. I grabbed my bag from the seat beside me and paid the driver.
At the door, I knocked and waited. When more unease clawed its way up my throat, I lay on the doorbell.
“All right. All right. Jesus. Lay off the bell.”
From his voice alone, I guessed Ricky would be shorter than me, slighter than me. No match for me. The door swung back, and a cocky grin appeared on Ricky’s face.
“The Russian.”
“The thief.”
“That’s true, I guess. Stole Alyssa right out from underneath you.”
“No, no, no. The only thing you stole was her house.” I’d put the pieces together in the car.
Olivia asking to move in because she’d left Kevin.
Ricky giving the reporters a vague response about exactly where Alyssa could be found.
The question now was whether they’d done anything more unforgivable.
Ricky knocked on the doorframe. “This place? Nah. We’re back together.” He eyed the bag in my hand. “Not sure what she told you, but the two of you were never going to work out.”
“Where is she?” I’d made the mistake of jumping to conclusions once before, and I’d promised her and myself I wouldn’t do it again.
I kept my promises. If she really had changed her mind, I’d hear the words directly from her mouth.
The icy grip of fear clenching my heart would only be eased by seeing her, even if she told me she didn’t want to be with me.
“Not here,” Ricky said.
The two-word response coupled with his smug expression was enough to set me off. I dropped my bag with a thud and took a step toward Ricky. “Tell me where she is.”
Ricky put some distance between us, hands raised. “You think that bitch told me where she was going?”
I clenched my jaw to keep a slew of Russian from bursting out. “Bitch?” The word barely made it past my lips. I’d intimidated many people as Mia’s bodyguard. If that was the route I needed to go to get information, I’d gladly walk it.
Ricky took a step back, the smirk returning. “Oh, wow. She’s done a fucking number on you. I don’t know—maybe pussy is lacking in Russia, but it’s not in America. You can find it anywhere. Whatever you’re thinking about doing to me. She’s not worth the hassle.”
I chuckled. “You think this is a hassle? No, no, no. This is a pleasure. I’ll take great pleasure in roughing you up. Perhaps I’ll even sing a little Russian tune. Would you like that? To have me sing to you in Russian while I beat you?”
All the color drained out of Ricky’s face. “I’ll sue you.”
I slid on my most menacing face like a mask. “You’re assuming you’ll be in good enough shape to hire a lawyer.”
“She’s at a hotel. I don’t know what hotel.” Panic tinged his voice.
“Why are you in her house?” I’d backed Ricky against a wall.
“Her key wouldn’t work in the lock? I was just helping her out?”
“That is bullshit.” I didn’t touch him, but I towered over the other man, determined to get to the truth. “I will find Alyssa, and if she tells me you have stolen her house, I will be back to help her make it right.”
“Like today? You’ll be back today?”
I glowered. “Yes.” I took another step, and Ricky’s back bumped against the wall.
He swallowed. “I’m sure she’s at a hotel nearby. She couldn’t have gone far.”
“Keys.” I held out my hand.
“To what?”
“The house. The car in the driveway.”
“That’s my car.”
“Today, it is mine.” I rose to my full height, hunching my shoulders like a wrestler about to take down my opponent.
If I had to go to several places before I found her, I wasn’t calling multiple cabs or taking the bus.
Ricky had done this, and he could pay the price.
Minor, in my estimation. “Until I find her, the car is mine.”
Ricky dug the keys out of his pocket and dropped them into my hand. “If anything happens to my car—”
“Save your threats.” I stared him down. “If Alyssa is fine, your car will be fine. You will be fine. If she is not fine, no one will be able to help you. ” With that, I turned on my heel, grabbed my bag off the floor, and left the house.
I dialed Alyssa’s number in the car before reversing out of the driveway.
Again, the call went straight to voicemail.
This time, I left a message letting her know I needed to speak to her.
Then, I searched my map for the closest hotels and began to contact each one.
I’d find her, no matter how long it took.