Page 82 of The Pursuit of Happiness

Panic and confusion are tight in my throat as I wonder where she is and if she’s okay and how that fucking phone got in that drawer. I sit on the edge of the bed and try to retrace my steps. I’ve never seen that phone before today. Sure, I knew we were looking for a blue, metallic non-smartphone, but I had never physically seen it before today.

She said it was in the nightstand, but I don’t know how it could’ve gotten in this house, let alone the nightstand. I set that nightstand up yesterday. How could it have gotten there from yesterday to today? I ponder every possibility and when it finally hits me, I stop breathing and look up at the wall, anger boiling inside of me.

The only person who was in this house between yesterday andtoday, was Rogan. He’s the only person who could’ve planted that phone there. And I made it so fucking easy for him by telling him I set the nightstand up for her. Fuck. I leap out of my seat and my mind seems to just uncover paintings of secret truths. Rogan was at the club the night that Aria and I were drugged. He was there and ifheplanted the phone, that means it was his phone and he really is the one who set us up that night. Fuck, how did I not see this before?

He never got over his infatuation with her. The apology was a lie. It was staged to make us trust him and I knew I had that seed of doubt in me about him even after. I should’ve listened to my gut. He planned this entire thing and he wanted her to break up with me. To hate me. If that was his plan…he probably anticipated her leaving my house.

I immediately pull my phone from my pocket and dial the only person who can help me. He groans as he accepts the call, “What do you want?” He snaps.

I’m in no mood to worry about his attitude, “Dallas, I need you to track Rogan’s phone, right now.”

There’s a pause on the other end and then I hear fingers flying over keys on a keyboard. “May I ask why?”

“He’s the one who drugged us that night and he’s the one who filmed the tape and leaked it. The phone is his and he planted it in my house so Aria would find it and think it was mine,” I explain quickly.

Dallas only types faster, “Where is she?”

“I don’t know. She stormed out of my house before and left her purse and her phone. I have no idea where she is, but I’m willing to bet that wherever he is, she is,” my voice is all business.

“He’s active. His location is moving inside the Renaissance Hotel.”

I’m on my feet, running downstairs and to my car. I manage topeel out of my garage and driveway, placing Dallas on speaker. I squeeze the steering wheel so tight, it’s a miracle it doesn’t crumble in my grasp. I race down the streets breaking traffic laws and giving no fucks. My girl is in danger, the law can kiss my ass.

Dallas is silent the entire time, but finally speaks when I nearly forget he’s on the line, “I’m on the cameras of the hotel. I just played back footage and he was carrying her inside. She looked like she was sleeping or knocked out.”

I slam my palm against the steering wheel, “Fuck! He drugged her!”

Dallas grunts on the other end, “I’m pulling up the room he’s in.”

I make a sharp turn down a street and ignore cars honking at me as I hurry. I’m only about five minutes from the hotel, but I can make it there in two.

“He’s checked into room 502. I’m watching security footage now. He carried her all the way to the room three minutes ago. They’ve been alone in there for three minutes.”

So much can happen in just one minute, let alone three. I see red as I make another turn and pull into the valet of the hotel. I leap out of my car as Dallas says something else, but I leave my phone and sprint inside the hotel. I can’t focus on anything aside from her right now.

I race through the lobby and make it to the elevators, pressing the buttons a dozen times before one finally opens. I jump inside and fuck with the buttons, hoping and praying that they don’t stop on another floor.

The metallic doors close and I watch as the numbers go up. 1, 2, 3, 4, no interruptions. I hold my breath as it finally lands on 5 and when the doors open, I’m running.

I follow the signs on the walls and scan each number for room 502. When I find it, I bang on the door with my fist andtry turning the knob but it’s locked from inside. I panic and my breathing becomes rapid. I feel sweat beading at the base of my neck and my temple. He could be touching her or hurting her and I can’t get inside to stop it. I don’t hear any screams coming from inside the room. I don’t hear anything and the silence is terrifying.

The sound of a lock unlocking grabs my attention. The device attached to the doorknob suddenly flashes green the way it would if I had used a room key. I turn the knob before it goes back to red and the door opens. I know Dallas has to somehow be responsible.

When I shove the door open, I barrel into the room and head straight through the suite and to the bedroom. The door is closed and I kick it open with force. It slams against the wall behind it, most likely leaving a hole in the drywall but I don’t give a single shit. I’ll buy the whole fucking hotel if I have to. Nothing is stopping me from saving my girl.

When I take in the sight before me, my knees practically crumble and give out under me. The air catches in my lungs and my heart splits down the middle. Aria’s slumped over, drugged and knocked out on the bed with her arms sprawled out and the zipper on the side of her dress nearly undone completely. She has tear stains mixed with traces of mascara on her cheeks and the darkest of circles under her eyes. Her skin looks pale and ashy and I panic for a split second that she may be dead. I push that possibility aside just as quickly as I thought it. She can’t be dead. She can’t be.

I turn my head just in time to catch Rogan propping up a blue metallic phone on the dresser, angling the camera towards the bed where Aria lies. It isn’t just any blue phone. It’s the one he planted in the nightstand. Aria must’ve had it on her when he drugged her. Anger sears hot through my chest and my entire body starts to shake with it. When his eyes meet mine and I findthat he’s shirtless, I snap.

I charge him with a growl, taking him down to the carpeted floor with my shoulder. He wasn’t expecting me to come here. He wasn’t expecting me to find her. I bring my fist back and punch him directly in the nose. Blood spurts from his nose and I hit him again, deciding it isn’t enough blood. He tries to shield his face but my hits land true, harder than any defense he could put up.

“Fuck!” He shouts, but the sound comes out broken because I land another blow.

I feel like I’m not within my own body. I don’t even see his face. I see hers, cold and pale in my head and the sight enrages me.Heenrages me. He did this to her and I want to fucking kill him for it.

I keep punching until I feel my knuckles splitting, and even then I continue. When he’s about to fade out, I grip his throat and squeeze, angling my face towards his, “Why? Huh? Tell me why?” I’m screaming so loud I’m sure people in the hallway can hear.

He shakes his head, spitting blood as he chokes out, “You always got everything. I wanted to take her from you. To have one thing you couldn’t have. But you had to ruin that too.”

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