Page 22 of Bourbon & Blood

“Well, let’s see what we can do,” Dorian argued, and I nodded. I got up, Marcus following suit, and we went into Maya’s modern-esque room. I sat at her desk which was simple and minimalist and keyed the laptop screen to life by pressing “enter” several times.

We were immediately greeted by a lock screen asking for a personal identification number.

“Any ideas?” Marcus asked.

I tried the last four digits of her phone number. Nope. I tried the last four digits ofmyphone number – no again. I sighed in frustration and Dorian asked, “You know her PIN for her bank card or whatever?”

I tried it – and bingo.

I rolled my eyes and said, “I should have thought of that first.”

I went through her email and found the one that listed the hotel, date, time, and the name of the guy she was supposed to meet. First name only, no other identifying information. That was upsetting to me.

She’d always said she had everything. Name, work, all that stuff and that she was as safe as safe could be.

“God, Maya…why?” I muttered under my breath.

“Call the hotel,” Dorian said evenly. Marcus was already on his phone, looking up the number and dialing.

They wouldn’t tell us anything… but of course, I wouldn’t honestly expect them to.

I hated this. I hated it so much.

“Has she ever done this before?” Dorian asked, hopeful. I knew he was grasping at straws; hoping that I would say yes and that he could ratchet his anxiety down a notch. That Maya would walk through the door any minute with a “sorry!”

I wanted that more than anything – for us to just be mad at her for a while, and that would be that… but… I just couldn’t lose this sense of just absolutedreadI carried in the center of my chest. The weight of it undeniable, the sense that last night at the bar was going to be the last time that I saw my friend and how things had just so quickly gone sideways – turned upside down in a friggin’ heartbeat.

“I mean, it is Maya…” Marcus hedged and the three of us all looked at each other, apprehension on our faces, the worry manifesting as an almost physical shimmer between us.

“Exactly,” I murmured. “It’sMaya.” I turned back to the glowing screen of her computer. “And to answer your question,no, she’salwayscome home.Always.”

She was the wild child of the four of us, for sure; but she wasn’t stupid. She was a little crazy in a manic pixie-girl kind of a way, but she didn’t ever gothisfar… never… something had to have happened.

“She would have called by now,” I said, certain. “Or answered her phone.”

“I don’t know what else to do,” Dorian said and Marcus sighed.

“I guess the only thing wecando,” Marcus said, and I looked up at him. “We wait,” he clarified, and I felt my shoulders sag.

“The police won’t do anything until she’s been missing twenty-four to forty-eight hours,” Dorian said unhappily, and I shook my head.

“Anything could happen in that amount of time,” I argued.

“So muchcould happen in that amount of time,” Marcus added.

We three looked at each other and the helplessness dragged at all of us.

“What else can we do?” Dorian asked.

It was another million-dollar question.

CHAPTERTWELVE

La Croix…

Louie’s momma didn’t call. It was days and days later and he was out the hospital and had come back to us at the club. Still, we waited threemoredays past that. We knew the son of a bitch that’d stuck him was out. We could use a fuckin’ computer. He’d been bonded out by somebody the morning after it’d happened. Not sure who’d posted his bail; maybe a boss or whatever. Poor son of a bitch that done it wouldn’t be seeing that money ever again.

Louie didn’t look none too happy as we rolled up on his momma’s house. It was me, Louie, Collier, and Saint. Retribution was imminent, and I had to say, I was a little bit skeptical that Louie’d have it in him to deal with his mother accordingly. That was alright, though. He didn’t need to really. His brothers had his back in dealing with the snatch that’d bore him. She certainly wasn’t no mother – that title was one she ain’t earned.

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