Chapter Thirty-Two
Jackson
Missing her warmth, I reach for Brooklyn, needing to feel her warmth, her softness pressed against me, wanting to hold her before having to get up and start another long ass day. Only my hand doesn’t find her as I reach for her in what has become her side of the bed. Instead, it passes through the thin air only to land against the cold, flat sheet covering the mattress.
My eyes fly open, her absence startling me.
*Where is she?* I wonder as I blink the sleep from my eyes, trying to fully wake before getting out of bed. *She’s never up before I am, the exhaustion of the pregnancy taking its toll on her.*
As I move to the side of the bed, placing my feet flat against the cold hardwood of the floor, I go through the motions of stretching my back, my neck, and my arms, the muscles having become tight after being still for so long and listen for the sounds of her piddling about the apartment, making coffee or taking an early morning shower.
But, I’m only met with silence.
A silence that becomes incredibly loud as my pulse begins to beat in my ears, a terrifying thought dawning on me, *What if she took off? Left because I said that I loved her?*
Just the thought alone has me jumping up off the bed and quickly moving to the door, hoping, praying even, that I find her asleep on the couch or the guest bed, possibly having needed some space after my confession.
I stop at the door to the guest room and flick the light on, finding the bed empty and undisturbed. Flicking the light back off, I move to the bathroom, noting it too is empty as I pass by on my way to the living room.
I’m nearly brought to my knees, an ache forming in my gut as I stare at the empty couch, taking in her absence in the early morning light coming in through the windows.
*What has she done? Where could she have gone?* I panic, running my hands through my hair and pacing the area between the door and couch, trying to think.
“Chastity,” I murmur, realizing that she probably just went back to her place, needing a bit of space after last night, or this morning rather.
Rushing back to my room, I throw on some clean clothes and grab a pair of shoes, sitting on the bed and quickly slipping them on before rushing back out and to the living room.
Grabbing my keys, I slip out the front door, making sure to pull it shut behind me before starting up the stairs to the next floor.
Not cognizant of the early hour, I panic-knock on Chastity’s door, hoping and praying that she’s here.
When a sleepy Chastity opens the door, her eyes barely open, hair still a mess from sleep, and her face wearing the lines of her pillow, I quickly blurt, “Is she here? Have you seen her?”
Chastity’s eyes bulge at my question as she asks, “What are you talking about?” Then, she squints, giving me a look that says, *What did you do?* before continuing, “She’s been staying with you for weeks?”
But even as she says this, she turns from the door, leaving it open, so I step inside, following her as she makes her way through the house, checking each room but only coming up empty.
“She’s not here,” the words are forced out of me as panic seizes me, “She left, ran. Fuck!”
“Calm down,” Chastity says, placing a hand on my arm, trying to comfort me. She leads me over to the couch and we both have a seat, then she says, “Let’s think this through. What happened to make you think she took off?”
“I told her I loved her,” I whisper, my throat tight with pain and regret for being so selfish, having had to just tell her how I felt, even when she had asked me not to say it.
She gives me a curious look, not understanding.
With a shake of my head, I explain, “She asked me not to say those words to her, that she wasn’t ready to hear them but knew by my actions, how I treated her, how I looked at her that I loved her. But I couldn’t hold it back any longer. I freaked out yesterday after I couldn’t get a hold of her, came rushing back to the apartment, afraid something had happened to her.” I pause, my mind a whirl of thoughts. “I found her asleep, having gone to bed early due to a migraine. I was so relieved. She woke up at some point, and we…” I hesitate but she gets what I’m not saying and nods, indicating that I can continue. “The words just slipped out. I’d been thinking them one minute, wanting desperately to tell her how much she means to me, and then they were out there and I couldn’t take them back.” I think about how she froze, not saying anything after that and I just dozed off, not realizing the obvious torment my words had caused her.
“Do you want to take them back?” Chastity asks, pulling me out of my head.
“No,” The word comes out strangled and broken, emotion consuming me. “I do love her, so fucking much that it scares me. But also yes, I should have waited for her to say it first.”
“You’d be waiting a hella long time for that to happen,” Chastity mutters with a shake of her head. “I’m sorry, I wish she had reacted differently. I wish I had the answers and knew where she was.”
I get to my feet, needing to find her.
Needing to move, to do something, *anything* other than just sitting her wallowing.
“I gotta go find her,” I breathe as I turn my attention back to Chastity. I pull her into a quick hug, muttering, “Thank you,” before moving through the rest of the house. Stopping at her door, I turn one last time to ask, “Will you let me know if you hear from her?”
“Of course,” she nods, her face full of worry as she wraps her arms tightly around her small body, trying to give herself comfort.
It’s then that it dawns on me that it’s not just me affected by her absence.
Chastity is her best friend and it’s gotta be affecting her just as much, considering how much they’ve both probably been through together.
As soon as I leave her place, I’m pulling out my keys and rushing down the stairwell, having a one-track mind.
Get to my Jeep.
Get to the precinct.
Pull up CCTV and the cameras around the apartments to see if there is anything that will help.
That will tell me where she went.
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