Echo (Bleeding Hearts #1)(67)

I wiped my bleary eyes and dragged myself from the room. As I walked down the hall, Norma’s tiny frame came into view. She peered out the curtains, tapping her foot anxiously.

“What are you doing?” I headed straight for the Fruit Loops and grabbed a handful before I sat down on one of the rickety kitchen chairs.

Her gaze swung to me and I could see the wheels turning in her brain before she even opened her mouth.

“I gotta get out of this house,” she snapped. “But I need some money. You got any?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Why?”

“What does it matter why?” she asked. “I just do.”

I shrugged and went back to eating my cereal, knowing that the argument wouldn’t end there. I never had to push with Norma. For a master manipulator, she was actually quite easy to manipulate herself, when she was desperate enough.

“I had some in my purse,” she said sourly. “I know I did. I didn’t go nowhere last night. But this morning it was gone.”

I snorted at her predicament and mentally reminded myself to thank Brayden later. I was surprised he wasn’t up already since it was past eleven. I didn’t usually sleep in this late myself, but it was becoming a habit lately.

I polished off the rest of the cereal I'd shoved into my mouth and walked down the hall, ignoring Norma’s grumbling.

When I knocked on Brayden’s door, he didn’t answer. I pushed it open quietly, expecting to find him asleep. But one glance at the bed and my mouth went dry. He hadn’t slept in it last night. And his backpack was gone too.

I carried myself towards the living room with jerky, awkward movements. The house was so quiet. Too f*cking quiet.

“How much money?” My voice was sandpaper in my throat.

“What?” Norma shouted, spinning away from the curtain again.

“How much money is missing?” I repeated.

She scratched her head and pretended to think about it for a moment though I knew better. Norma always knew how much money she had in her purse. And exactly how much that would buy her.

“How much?” I growled.

“A thousand bucks!” she spat. “I know I didn’t misplace it.”

“Where’s Brayden?”

“Huh?”

I wanted to slap that idiotic expression off her face. She was wasting my time with her drug-addled brain.

“Where the hell is Brayden?”

“How should I know?” she shrugged. “He never leaves the couch usually. He’s probably in his room sleeping.”

“He isn’t.”

It dawned on me with sickening slowness. The conversation we’d had the night before. The calm expression on his face. I knew exactly where Brayden was. Or at least where he was going.



***



I tried to call Nicole one more time as the plane taxied onto the runway. Nobody answered. Not her, Ryland, or Matt. Why weren’t they answering?

“Come on, pick up,” I pleaded.

The flight attendant crossed her arms and gave me a pointed stare.

“Ma’am you need to put that away.”

Nicole’s voicemail picked up again, and I shoved the phone into the seatback pocket, trying not to let my nerves get the best of me.

I told myself I was being crazy and paranoid. That Brayden would never really go after Ryland. I told myself the reason all of their phones went to voicemail was because they were busy. Ryland and Nicole were probably at work, but reception kept telling me they weren’t available. Brayden could have been at the bar, or with a friend.

So then why was I sitting on a plane bound for San Francisco? I had no clue. The only thing I knew for certain was my gut told me this was where I needed to be.



***



I slipped out of the elevator doors before they even fully opened, scrambling towards Ryland’s door with forced calmness.

I didn’t know what I would say to him when he answered, completely fine. I would look like a lunatic, I was sure, and give him false hope where none lived. But I pounded on the wood anyway, waiting impatiently for him to answer.

He didn’t.

I already knew he wasn’t at work since I’d called reception again on the way over. The temp on the phone told me neither he or Nicole came into work that day, and that was all the information she had. It was midweek, so he wouldn’t be at Belvedere Island.

That only left his apartment.

I dug into the bottom of my purse, retrieving the key ring I never thought I’d be using again. Only, the key I needed was missing.

Brayden.

I reached for the handle anyway, expecting it to be locked. But it wasn't. I swung it open wide and nearly collapsed from the sight before me.

Blood.

So much blood. Smeared across the floor, the breakfast bar, the walls. I couldn’t make sense of it.

The phone lay shattered on the kitchen tile. The bar stools were nothing but a splintered pile of wood, scattered across the living room floor. There was glass and furniture everywhere.

The blood was a dull red color, which meant that it had been dried for a while. I cupped a hand over my mouth as I searched the rest of the apartment frantically. Tears streamed down my face as I checked every room, noting that my sewing room had been locked and turned into a shrine like his dead family members.