Once I’m in the apartment, I toss my keys and my phone on the table and sift through the mail. A letter catches my eye. I take a closer look and see that it’s from our attorney. The one Dad hired to prosecute for Mom’s murder. My hands start to shake and my palms are sweaty. My heart feels like it’s about to beat through my chest. As I attempt to open the envelope, I struggle to pull air into my lungs. I fight through the fear and manage to remove the letter. Sucking in slow deep breaths, I unfold the paper and skim the contents. No, Joe, he wants to talk to me. As if this day hasn’t been bad enough. A sob escapes me and I wish more than anything Maxton were here.
I can’t breathe. What could he possibly want to talk to me about? My heart is racing. I reach for the back of the couch to steady myself on wobbly legs, and before I know what happens, my world turns black.
ROLLING OVER, I reach out for Kens and the bed’s cold. My eyes immediately pop open and stare at the empty space in the bed where she should be.
She’s gone.
I can feel it.
She left me.
Throwing the covers back, I jump out of bed and grab my phone. Swiping the screen, I see it’s five thirty in the morning. No messages and no missed calls. I pull up Bright’s name and hit send. Grabbing my shoes, I sit at the table. Holding the phone to my ear with my shoulder, I work on putting on my shoes. It’s the middle of the damn night and she’s alone, upset and not fucking here where she should be. Bright’s phone goes straight to voicemail. Of course, he’s sleeping snuggled up with his girl, where I wish I were in this exact moment. I slam my fist down on the table and it lands on a pen. Looking down, I see a pad of hotel paper with her handwriting. I read her words and a mixture of emotions swamp me.
I’m worried about her driving at night two hours home by herself. I’m hurt that she left me. I’m pissed off that she’s not fighting for what we have. That she’s letting them win. I tear the letter from the pad of paper and hastily fold it and slip it into my wallet. I try Bright again and this time he answers.
“Maxton—” I cut him off.
“She’s gone, Bright. She fucking left while I was sleeping. She was in my arms, where she belongs. I fell asleep and I just woke up and she’s gone. She left a fucking goodbye letter, man. She says it’s over. I have to find her; we have to go.” I ramble on. I know I’m probably not making any sense and I don’t give a fuck. He needs to either get moving or I’m leaving their asses here. I’m going to find her.
“We’ll meet you in the lobby in five,” he says.
“Make it three. I have no idea what time she left, man. I have to find her.” My voice is pleading. That same damn feeling from earlier is back. The same feeling that something isn’t right. It hits me that my feeling of needing to stay with her was because of JT. I’m following my gut this time and going to her. I can only assume that she went home. If she’s not there when I get there, I’m calling her dad. No holds barred. I need to know she’s okay.
“Maxton, you have to calm down. We’ll find her,” Bright tries to reason with me.
“Calm down. I cannot fucking calm down. She left me. She FUCKING LEFT ME!” I roar into the phone.
“She’s upset. I was there, man. I heard her story; I heard about what she went through. I heard her tell us what Joe did to her mother, the letter from JT. She’s been holding that shit in for over three years. She needs to process. She’ll come around; you just need to be patient.”
I hear what he’s saying. I felt her pain. Every damn word was like a knife to my heart. Sitting in that chair and not being able to go to her was hell for me. I wanted to hold her, reassure her that no matter what, it’s us. I choose her, choose us. I want to prove to her that the trust she has put into me is worth it, that what we have is worth it.
“We’re getting dressed. We’ll meet you in the lobby.”
I end the call without another word. I pull up her name and hit send. I know she’s not going to answer, but I need to call her anyway. The call goes straight to voicemail. “Kensi, it’s me. Wherever you are, please be safe. I’m coming home. I need to see you. Fuck, Kensington. I woke up and you were gone, just gone, and I need you here with me. I need to…” I swallow back the tears. “I need you to know that I love you. You hear me, Kens? I love you so fucking much that I don’t know who I am without you. Please, baby, just send me a message or Bright or Nic. Just let me know that you’re okay. I’m scared as hell. I have this feeling… same as yesterday and… please, just let me know you’re safe.” Her voicemail cuts me off.
Sliding my phone back in my pocket, I head toward the lobby. Bright and Nicole are there waiting on me and I’m grateful. “I tried to call her; got her voicemail,” Nicole says once we are in the truck.
I nod. “Yeah, same here. I’m going to the apartment. If she’s not there, I’m going to call her dad.”
“Max, she just needs—” Nicole tries to speak, but I interrupt her.
“To be okay. Yesterday I was worried. I couldn’t shake this feeling that something was going to happen. I was right. JT…” I clear my throat. “JT is a part of why the girl that owns me is torn apart inside. I could feel something was going to happen, I just didn’t know. If I knew, I would have never…”
“We know that,” Nicole says gently. “You love her, anyone can see that.”
“I have that same feeling now. Only this time it’s… stronger. I won’t push her to see me or talk to me, yet. I just need to know she’s okay.”
The rest of the drive is silent. Nicole tries to call Kensington over and over again from all three of our cells and she never picks up. Always straight to voicemail, her inbox is now full.
I make good time. We pull into the apartment a little after seven in the morning. I broke a few traffic laws to make it happen, but finally, I’m here and so is she. I park beside her car and exhale. Once I see her with my own eyes and know she’s really safe, I’ll leave. A knot forms in the pit of my stomach at the thought, but I won’t push her, not yet. I’ll give her time to process this, and then I’m fighting for her. She is what I want.
The three of us climb out of the truck and Nicole leads the way up to their apartment. Placing her key in the door, she turns the lock and turns the knob. “Kensington!” she cries and I push through them.
My girl is lying on the floor, out cold. “Call 911!” I scream. I drop to my knees beside her, careful not to move her until I know if and where she is hurt. I gently run my hands over her body, checking for injuries. I don’t see anything. She looks like she fell. With blurry eyes, I scan around her to see if I notice anything that might have made her fall.
“Don’t move her they said,” Bright relays. “They’re on the way.”
I don’t see anything but papers, mail thrown around. I focus my attention back on her. I gently move the hair from her eyes. The only reassuring fact of the entire situation is that her chest rises and falls with each breath she takes. She’s breathing; I send up a silent prayer that she’s going to be okay. I hold her hand and stroke her hair, just waiting. Taking her in, she’s pale; she has dark circles around her eyes. I hate what this has done to her. The tears that I’ve kept at bay unleash and I let them. My heart is lying on the ground, out cold. I’m wrecked over this girl. Please, God, let her be okay. I repeat this over and over.