15
ERICA
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In the evening, Stevie heads to a club, and I follow him in. That’s when I discover that Stevie and the band are actually playing here tonight. I see the big, blinking neon lights screaming INKED UP—the name of Tyler’s band.
"You guys are playing tonight?" I ask, turning to him.
"Yeah," Stevie starts to say something, but my phone starts buzzing in my hand.
It's Caleb. I ignore it. He calls again immediately, and I ignore it a second time. When the third call comes through, I finally answer, even though it’s so loud in here I can hardly hear my own thoughts.
"Hello?" I yell into the receiver.
"Erica? Have you seen Zoe?" Caleb’s voice is strained on the other end. "She’s not at the cafe. I've been looking everywhere."
"No, I’m actually not there," I shout over the bass. "I’m in New York."
"Zoe is not with you?" Caleb asks, sounding surprised.
"No. She probably went to go see her mom," I reply.
"Okay," Caleb says, sounding unconvinced, but he hangs up.
I shove my phone back into my pocket. Stevie looks at me and jerks his head toward a door.
"Hey, you can come backstage," he tells me. "Sometimes we have special guests back here. You can look out from the wings and probably see him."
I think it's actually really nice of Stevie to offer. I follow him backstage while they’re setting everything up, hoping I can avoid seeing Tyler. Honestly, Ty isn't even on my mind right now. I just scanned the dark corners and the rafters, looking for a shock of white hair.
I don't see him. There are too many people back here, and this venue is packed with a lot more bodies than I’m used to seeing at Tyler’s shows. I'm leaning against an equipment crate when I feel Stevie come up behind me. I can feel the heat of his chest pressing against my back.
"See anything?" he asks, close up and in my ear.
"No. I can't from here. I didn't see his truck here either. I don't know... I don't know," I mutter, feeling the panic start to rise in my throat.
I call King’s phone again, like I’ve been doing all day, but it goes straight to voicemail. Every time I hear his voice on that recording, my heart squeezes painfully.
"Hey. I'm so sorry that I missed your call. Leave a message and I'll try my best to get back to you. Whoever you are, I want you to know that God loves you, and I'll be praying for you even if we don't talk. Have a blessed day. Bye."
The pain and the guilt are becoming too much to carry. All I want is to see him, to know he’s okay. Seeing that picture in Tyler’s post gave me a spark of hope, at least he was alive two days ago, but now that hope is flickering.
"Thanks, Stevie. I’m going to try and hit up some other places," I say, turning to leave.
"He might be here and you just missed him," Stevie suggests.
"Yeah, maybe, but... I don't know."
"For all you know, you could be bouncing around and playing tag," Stevie says. "I think if you're going to find him, you should stay in one place for a while. Actually scope the place out if you believe he’d be here."
"It's New York. I don't know the first place to look. I don't even know if he's still here," I say, my voice rising as I start to spiral. "For all I know, he could be traveling too. He could have just been passing through."
As I start to walk away from Stevie, a familiar face stops me dead in my tracks. Standing right in front of me is a guy with olive skin and those pretty shaped eyes I used to know so well. His dark brown hair is much longer now than I remembered. His eyes go wide when he sees me.
Next to him is the taller guy with tattoos covering every inch of his skin, a septum ring, and long dreads. Beside him is the one all in blue with a blonde mohawk so shiny it looks fake.
"Erica?" Ty asks, sounding like he’s in a trance, as if he can’t believe I’m real.
I try to cut past him to leave, but he’s quick. He reaches out and grabs my wrist.
"Hey. What are you doing here?"
"I'm leaving," I say, pulling my hand away from him.
"You were going to leave and not even say hi?" Ty asks.
"I know this is going to feel hard to believe, but I’m not here for you. I’m here looking for someone."
"Sure," he says, a smug smile spreading across his face.
"I’m being honest!" I snap, feeling defensive.
"Of course. Although I wouldn't mind if you admitted you're here to see me," he says, stepping forward and pulling me into a hug. "I miss you. I didn't think you were actually going to come here."
God damn it. I know I’m over Tyler, but feeling him hold me makes me realize just how lonely I’ve been. I missed being touched. But Tyler is my ex; he’s the past. Even though a wild, reckless part of me wants to have crazy sex with him just so I can drop him and walk away, I need to find King.
I push Tyler away slightly. "Ty, I’m so sorry. But you and I are over."
"Yeah, you say that, but we still have sex with each other over the phone," he smirks. He gives me that look of pure confidence and flirtation that always used to make me weak in the knees. A part of me still feels it, but after having King’s dick, it’s very hard for anything else to come close.
"Let her go, man. She's looking for her boyfriend," Stevie interjects.
"Your boyfriend is here? You have a boyfriend in New York?" Ty asks, his eyebrows shooting up. "How you going to get a boyfriend in New York and not come see me?"
"He's not... I just need to find him, okay? I'm sorry," I say, peeling away.
"I can help you find him," Ty offers. "I have a big social media following. If you hang around after the gig, I can put out a post."
"No! I... I don't want anyone to know I'm looking for him."
"But I thought you wanted to find him. A post on social media would reach everyone."
"He doesn't have social media," I tell him.
"Get the fuck outta here," Ty laughs, like I’m telling a joke. "Wow." He looks at something over my head with an open-mouthed smile. "Where are you staying while you're here?"
"Well, Stevie got me a hotel room," I start to say.
Stevie’s eyes go wide, clearly not wanting Tyler to know he went behind his back to help me. Tyler narrows his eyes at Stevie.
"Did he?"
"Not like that! I didn't sleep with him or anything," I clarify. "Not like he didn't try."
"I didn't do shit to you!" Stevie says, sounding like he’s panicking.
"He was just trying to help me find him, but—"
"What's the guy's name?" Tyler asks, interrupting.
"I can't tell you that."
"You can't tell me anything. He doesn't have social media. I don't know, Erica," Ty says, smiling and shrugging. He looks to his right, then looks down at me, leaning in closer. "It's almost like you're making it up just to have an excuse to be near me without making it obvious."
"You're so fucking full of yourself," I hiss. "You know there are other people who exist outside of you, right?"
"Yeah, that's why you're back in New York, right?"
"I’m not back for you. And like I said, I was just leaving."
I turn to go, but Tyler speaks up, his voice taking on a more coy edge. "You could do that. And I could call the cops and let them know that the girl who vandalized my vehicle came back and she’s right here. Or, you can stay for a little while, wait until I finish my gig, and we can talk."
"I can leave this building and be out of the state before the cops even get here," I retort.
"You can leave if you want," Tyler says, "but I can't promise that you're not going to be followed."
When he says that, I actually feel a chill. I notice the men in suits with earpieces standing against the walls. I have no idea if they’re security for the band or the venue, but Tyler’s band is successful enough now to hire their own muscle.
This is the last thing I need. I should have avoided Stevie. Ty smirks at me one last time as he and the band head toward the stage.