Chapter 12
He inhales slowly, steadily, to calm his temper. His tone lowers, but there’s that sound he makes when he’s talking through gritted teeth; his -
angry yet trying to control myself
tone. I get a little ripple of longing again.
“Baby, listen to me, don’t cry. I’m sorry, okay? I’m really worried about you and losing my mind a little, tell me where you are, and I’ll be right there. I’ll come to take you home. I’ll take care of you.”
Home? Home sounds good. The apartment in Manhattan overlooking the sea of lights and tall buildings, wrapped in bed with Jake, wrapped up in Jake; that’s home for me.
“I don’t know where we are. Somewhere, Leila brought us. Sarah’s here too, but I think she’s dead.” I watch as she slides ungracefully off the bar where her body previously was, and she ends up in a chaotic heap on the floor, behind her bar stool between two men, seemingly ignoring her.
I don’t seem overly concerned for someone who thinks Sarah might’ve die
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