Page 120 of Tempting the Player
I scroll through the text Logan sent with information on Ted. It has his phone number, but I want to confront the asshole in person. Besides, I don’t trust anything he’d tell me would be the truth. How could I not have seen that this was the guy?
Knox hangs up and confirms what I already presumed. “They haven’t seen her or Eric, but they’re going to ask around.”
I nod. My pulse tics and my mind reels.
“What do you want to do?” he asks. “Go to the party and look for her? Drive by the house in case she went there? Or maybe she’s at her place.”
“No. She isn’t in any of those places.” I can feel it.
She needed me and I wasn’t here. I fucked up.
“You don’t know that,” Knox says, back to being the reassuring optimist. “Let’s go check. Do you have Eric’s number?”
The fact that it hadn’t even occurred to me to call Eric yet should speak to how much I’m not in my right mind. Or maybe it’s just that I don’t really believe it’s as simple as she decided to leave with him, forgot her phone, and decided to not do the things she said she would. It’s too many things that don’t add up.
“I do, but his house isn’t far.” I’d rather talk to him in person. “If she isn’t with him, then maybe he’ll at least be able to tell us where she went.”
We start back for the truck, practically sprinting through the dark empty campus.
“This guy Ted,” Knox starts. “Do you have his address in case we need to pay him a visit too?”
I nod. “Logan sent it. He lives in an apartment a few miles from here.”
“Should we go there first?”
Maybe he’s got that same gut feeling that things aren’t right or maybe he just wants to deck Ted. He’ll have to get in fucking line.
“Eric’s house is closer.”
“She’ll be there,” Knox says pointedly as I start the engine. “She has to be there.”
I’m not sure if he’s trying to reassure himself or me.
42
JANE
I feellike I’m drowning under the weight of the questions swirling in my head. Where am I? What happened to me? Why is my brain foggy? Why won’t my legs work? Why is Ted here? Where’s the rest of the band?
My memory is fuzzy. We were all helping pack up the equipment after the show and then...nothing.
The light is off in the living room where I’m sitting on a worn leather couch. The kitchen is to my left. It’s a small space, a sort of galley kitchen with the counter dividing the two rooms. I’ve only been to Ted’s apartment one other time, but I know that’s where I am. But why?
He’s pacing in the kitchen, obviously agitated, three steps forward, turn, three steps back across the kitchen, repeat. He runs his hand through his hair and mutters to himself. I can’t make out the words.
With some effort, I swallow and try to speak. The only thing that comes out is a squeak, but it gets his attention.
Ted comes over with a bottle of water. “Drink this. We have to get the drugs out of your system.”
Panic blooms in my chest. “Drugs?” I’m not sure if I get the word out, but he answers anyway.
“It should wear off soon since you didn’t drink that much.”
I sip the cold water as the memories come back slowly and not in order. I had my phone, and I was about to text Eric. We were done packing up equipment and I went into the tent to grab my things. The water bottle I drank from, then Ted kicking it away from me. The gift basket.
I stop drinking and spit it out. Ted snarls. “It’s just water this time.”
This time.“Why?” I’m not sure if I manage to get the word out.
