Page 125 of The Road Less Traveled By

The three of them have been staying over more and more lately. I don't mind their presence, but I know Bree is nervous.I know she loves having them all around, but I can see the fear on her face when they offer to stay another night.

She’s the one in danger, yet she’s still worried about everyone else but herself.

I run my hand down my face, exhausted, as I stand from my desk and drag my feet to Bree’s room. I can’t wait to pull her body to mine and hold her until the morning comes. Falling asleep next to her never gets old, and waking up to her beautiful, shining face every morning has filled whatever weird hole I had in my body from all the years I spent alone.

Now, this house is filled with more people than just us.

And I don’t hate it. It’s nice having some extra noise around. It reminds me of when I was growing up. My parents and sister always had music on, always chatting about something, and my house was filled with noise.

Then, my parents passed, and everything was quiet. The absence of noise created an even bigger absence without my parents. It’s like their bodies were the soul of our house, their love so loud that it filled the room. Aria and I used to creep down the stairs after they put us to bed to watch them dancing in the kitchen.

There was no doubt in my mind that they loved one another, and instead of chasing the kind of love they had, I ran away from it.

I seeped further and further into the quiet because after their deaths, it was all I knew. It became my new normal.

But Bree has brought that noise back, and someday, I’ll tell her how thankful I am to be in a house full of music, laughter, and chatter.

I softly open the door to our room, and as I take my shirt off and crawl into bed, I don’t feel Bree’s warm body. Instead, the bed feels cold, as if she hasn't been here for a while.

Where could she have gone?I assumed if she was roaming around that house, she would stop in my office and force me back upstairs, but that didn't happen.

My mind races asthoughts of the worst scenario fill my head. Nico would’ve texted me if one of the panic buttons was pressed, and the alarms would have gone off, so I try to calm my mind, but it doesn't work.

Where the fuck is my beautiful girlfriend?

I check the bathroom and her closet, and she’s not in either having a panic attack, so that I count as a win.

I knock on the room next door, and when I get no answer, I open the door to yet another empty room. Liv and Teags are nowhere to be found, either.

Fucking hell.

I head to my last resort, and after a few knocks on my old door, Tristan opens it. He rubs his eyes, his hair looking like a mess since I just woke him up. “Dude, it’s so fucking early. What the hell is going on?”

“I can’t find the girls.”

That causes him to perk up immediately. “What do you mean?”

“They aren't in their rooms, and I can’t find them.”

He runs a hand through his hair before he turns around, throws a shirt over his head, and walks by me. “I’ll check up here, and you check downstairs?”

“Sounds good to me,” I say as I book it down the stairs, my feet moving of their own volition. I keep the lights off, because if something did happen to them and they’re stuck somewhere, I have the advantage. My eyes are already adjusted to the darkness. I take my phone out, texting Nico to double-check on the alarms.

Vince: No buttons were pushed? No silent alarms going off?

Nico: Allgood. Wanna tell me why you and Tristan are going crazy or not?

Vince: We can’t find the girls. Can you get a visual?

Nico: On it.

I pocket my phone as I search the first floor of Bree’s house, and minutes later, Tristan meets me downstairs.

“Anything?” I ask.

“Does it look like I found them?” He motions to the empty space around him, panic in his tone.

“Fucking hell,” is all I say. “Where the hell are they?”

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