I woke up feeling like death had parked on my skull and left the engine running. My mouth tasted like metal. My head pounded in slow, punishing waves. I stared at the ceiling, trying to remember how I got to my room and came up blank.
That never happened to me. I had never blacked out before. Shame settled heavy in my chest as memory crawled back in broken pieces. The clubhouse, the drinks, the dance and nothing after that.
Someone must've carried me upstairs, because I sure as hell didn't remember walking. If Click had seen me like that, he would've kicked my ass. And I would've deserved it.
I hadn't cheated. Not really. But I'd still screwed up. I was tired. Stressed. Stupid. I let myself end up in a situation that never should've happened. I dragged myself out of bed and stumbled downstairs.
The clubhouse looked exactly like a Saturday morning after a blowout. Half-dressed bodies sprawled across couches and tables. Someone snored loudly from the pool table. Empty bottles littered every flat surface. Music still thumped faintly from the speakers like no one had bothered to turn it off.
Normal.
Too normal.
I grabbed a bottle of water from the kitchen, swallowed painkillers dry, and checked my phone. No missed calls from Eden. That stopped me cold. She always texted in the morning. Even if it was just a heart. Or a stupid coffee emoji. I scrolled back. Nothing since last night. A knot started to form low in my gut.
Don't panic, I told myself. She's probably busy or maybe annoyed or maybe sleeping in.
Still, I left.
The ride home blurred past me, my head pounding harder with every mile. By the time I pulled into the apartment complex, my hands were shaking—and it wasn't from the hangover. Her car was still there. Relief hit first. I got off my bike and walked to the apartment door. I unlocked it.
"Eden?" I called.
Silence.
The apartment looked untouched. Her shoes by the door. Her bag on the counter. The notebook she'd been using last night sat open on the table, pen resting across the page like she'd just stepped away.
Her phone wasn't there. My pulse spiked.
"Eden?"
I moved faster. Bedroom, Bathroom, then the small office she'd claimed for café plans. I found nothing. Her clothes were still hanging in the closet. Jewelry still on the dresser. Her favorite sweater draped over the back of a chair like she meant to grab it later. Like she planned to come back. That's when I saw the glass. It was shattered near the sink. Pieces scattered across the tile.
A thin smear of red streaked the counter. It wasn't much. Just enough to make my mind race. My stomach dropped. Something is wrong, and I can feel it.
I rushed to the security panel and pulled up the camera feeds. Only Black screens. Every single one was out. There was no way it was a glitching. It was disabled. Click installed this system himself. The only person better with tech was Eden.
These weren't hacked randomly. They were shut down. And Eden wouldn't have done that. My chest tightened until breathing felt optional. I turned slowly, looking at the apartment differently now. It was too clean. Nothing was missing, except her.
Click's voice echoed in my head. She doesn't disappear. She doesn't run. She's loyal to the end. Don't screw this up.
When I started dating Eden, I made damn sure she wasn't someone who bailed when things got hard. Neither was I. This wasn't about leaving. This was about taking. I pulled my phone out with shaking hands and hit Click's number.
He answered on the first ring.
"Cash?"
"She's gone," I said.
The words tasted wrong. "Eden's gone? What do you mean she is gone? I thought you went home last night"
Silence stretched between us.
"You there?" Click asked.
"I'm here. I stayed at the club. Thought I would surprise her in the morning" I half lied.
"I am on my way."
I could hear him moving, boots pounding pavement, the scrape of the lot gate, wind rushing past the mic.
"I will be at your place in 5 minutes, but wait. What the fu—"
Gunfire shattered through the line. It was sharp and close. One shot. Then three more in rapid succession. Metal clanged.A bike hit the ground.
"Click!" I roared.
More shouting. A grunt. Tires screeching. Then, I heard nothing. Just dead air.
"Click?" My voice cracked. "Click!"
The call disconnected. For half a second, I just stood there, staring at my phone like it might fix itself. Like it might ring back. It didn't. Eden was gone. Click was down. And I had the sinking feeling this wasn't random. This was coordinated. And whoever started it wasn't finished.
I ran out the door and jumped on my bike. I needed to get to Click. I needed to make sure he was ok. Then we can set to finding my girl.