22. LINC
TWENTY-TWO
LINC
The four-corner intersection of the cross-streets Rio told me did in fact have a bar on the corner of one, a small red market on another, and the other one had tall, trimmed hedges with no structure.
By process of elimination, I think this is Paige’s building.
Though, it’s all up in the air seeing as I still haven’t found the balls to get out of the car and take a look.
It’s a small building—almost looks like a motel. There’s an open breezeway I can see from the street and there’s two levels of four, maybe five doors on each level.
Being that it’s just about midnight, there’s been virtually no foot traffic. But sitting out here and lurking for the last hour, I’ve managed to rule out the corner unit on the bottom right given the very . . . handsy couple that just pummeled their way through the door.
Why is she living here?
I knew she’d stayed with Darlene until she passed, but when I saw Darlene’s empty house last weekend, I thought maybe she’d left California . . .
I suddenly wondered if that was the reason for the onslaught of the spaciness that’s been giving me whiplash.
I wonder if my brain was trying to make peace with the fact that Paige had actually left. If it was my mind’s way of coping with more distance. It was probably the same dumb part of me that believed we still somehow felt that internal, gravitational pull, after all these years.
The thought alone swells an ache through my chest.
She’s still here, I remind myself.
She was right downstairs tonight.
Now, she’s right across the street. Somewhere. And I just need to get out of the car and find her apartment.
My reasons for keeping myself away are complicated—in an agonizing sort of way—something I can’t even acknowledge if I have any hope of getting out of the car.
But I think at the beating center of it, past details aside, I know it’s fear that’s kept me from seeking her out this long.
The steep, mountainous fear of seeing her again—a fear that’s been given endless time to grow and become more daunting and treacherous.
What I did to her.
What happened . . .
Where I went.
I’m not prepared to meet a single one of those truths tonight. And as it stands now —not ever.
But she could be hurt, a voice reminds me again.
A heavy breath pushes past my lips, looking again at the apartments, noticing an iron gate with a detail at the tip of the spears that would hurt if you lost your footing while hopping it.
Which is exactly what I’ll have to do if I want to find her.
Fuck me.
I’m not worried about falling, just the whole trespassing thing . . . seems like something I shouldn’t be doing twice in the span of a week.
Stop making excuses. You’ve trespassed before, and you will likely do it again.
I clench my teeth as a frustrated growl rumbles through my chest. I’m just about to stall for a few more seconds, when I suddenly see a guy walking up to the entrance gate.
I’m too far away to jump out and have him hold it open for me without being suspicious, but I can watch what apartment he goes into, eliminating another.
Or not . . .
The lighting on the breezeway is dim, but I can now see the guy looks to be about my age —her age, too— give or take a couple years, with shaggy brown hair shadowing his eyes.
He’s wearing a brown leather jacket, and walking purposefully up the stairs, onto the second level breezeway, then casually strides to the end unit, farthest from the street.
But he doesn’t go in.
That same pull that’s reawakened deep, deep inside of me tingles with awareness. My eyes squint, watching as he knocks on the door.
A few seconds pass, and nothing happens, but I’m ready to explode. For some reason, I’m certain that’s her apartment.
A vision of her opening the door and pulling the guy inside flashes through my mind and I grunt, blinking.
My chest settles when I see, still, no one answers the door, and he tries the doorknob.
My eyebrows pinch. If he’s allowed in without a knock, why didn’t he do that first?
When the door appears to be locked, he moves over to the window to the right of the door. He stretches onto his toes, straining his neck a bit to look inside the window, and a prickling sensation rolls through me.
I have no confirmation if that’s Paige’s apartment, but my body is buzzing. The window he’s looking through is dark and the small light by the door is also off.
Though, if the girl I saw tonight is anything like the girl I knew before, she’d keep that light off even if she was home.
After another few seconds, I see the guy take out his phone, holding it up in front of him.
Is he taking pictures?
My body jerks. I’m not ready to see her, but if that’s her apartment, I need to beat that asshole’s face in. My hand moves to the door, I’m just about to push it open, as my phone buzzes from my pocket.
Fuck.
It could be Jackson . . . maybe he’s heard from her.
Keeping my eyes on the guy, now walking down toward the gate, I quickly pull my phone out to check the text. But my heart thuds when I see it’s a message from Ellis.
Ellis
We have company.