Page 53 of The Pursuit of Happiness (Satan’s Angels #2)

Slater

I panic as I pace the long expanse of my room, my hands clutching my head as I try to regulate my breathing and just focus .

I should never have let her leave. I should’ve found a way to make her stay, but I was too afraid I would lose her forever if I argued.

Losing her forever would be nothing in comparison to losing her life.

I don’t have any clue where she is. She left her phone and her purse here and ran away on foot.

She has no money to pay for a cab if she were even able to find one and the streets of Los Angeles are dangerous at this time of night.

Fuck. If anything happens to her it’ll be my fault. I should’ve made her stay even if I risked losing her forever. I was too selfish and worried about the state of our dwindling relationship to make her stay.

Panic and confusion are tight in my throat as I wonder where she is and if she’s okay and how that fucking phone got in that drawer.

I sit on the edge of the bed and try to retrace my steps.

I’ve never seen that phone before today.

Sure, I knew we were looking for a blue, metallic non-smartphone, but I had never physically seen it before today.

She said it was in the nightstand, but I don’t know how it could’ve gotten in this house, let alone the nightstand.

I set that nightstand up yesterday. How could it have gotten there from yesterday to today?

I ponder every possibility and when it finally hits me, I stop breathing and look up at the wall, anger boiling inside of me.

The only person who was in this house between yesterday and today, was Rogan.

He’s the only person who could’ve planted that phone there.

And I made it so fucking easy for him by telling him I set the nightstand up for her.

Fuck. I leap out of my seat and my mind seems to just uncover paintings of secret truths.

Rogan was at the club the night that Aria and I were drugged.

He was there and if he planted the phone, that means it was his phone and he really is the one who set us up that night. Fuck, how did I not see this before?

He never got over his infatuation with her.

The apology was a lie. It was staged to make us trust him and I knew I had that seed of doubt in me about him even after.

I should’ve listened to my gut. He planned this entire thing and he wanted her to break up with me.

To hate me. If that was his plan…he probably anticipated her leaving my house.

I immediately pull my phone from my pocket and dial the only person who can help me. He groans as he accepts the call, “What do you want?” He snaps.

I’m in no mood to worry about his attitude, “Dallas, I need you to track Rogan’s phone, right now.”

There’s a pause on the other end and then I hear fingers flying over keys on a keyboard. “May I ask why?”

“He’s the one who drugged us that night and he’s the one who filmed the tape and leaked it. The phone is his and he planted it in my house so Aria would find it and think it was mine,” I explain quickly.

Dallas only types faster, “Where is she?”

“I don’t know. She stormed out of my house before and left her purse and her phone. I have no idea where she is, but I’m willing to bet that wherever he is, she is,” my voice is all business.

“He’s active. His location is moving inside the Renaissance Hotel.”

I’m on my feet, running downstairs and to my car.

I manage to peel out of my garage and driveway, placing Dallas on speaker.

I squeeze the steering wheel so tight, it’s a miracle it doesn’t crumble in my grasp.

I race down the streets breaking traffic laws and giving no fucks.

My girl is in danger, the law can kiss my ass.

Dallas is silent the entire time, but finally speaks when I nearly forget he’s on the line, “I’m on the cameras of the hotel. I just played back footage and he was carrying her inside. She looked like she was sleeping or knocked out.”

I slam my palm against the steering wheel, “Fuck! He drugged her!”

Dallas grunts on the other end, “I’m pulling up the room he’s in.”

I make a sharp turn down a street and ignore cars honking at me as I hurry. I’m only about five minutes from the hotel, but I can make it there in two.

“He’s checked into room 502. I’m watching security footage now. He carried her all the way to the room three minutes ago. They’ve been alone in there for three minutes.”

So much can happen in just one minute, let alone three. I see red as I make another turn and pull into the valet of the hotel. I leap out of my car as Dallas says something else, but I leave my phone and sprint inside the hotel. I can’t focus on anything aside from her right now.

I race through the lobby and make it to the elevators, pressing the buttons a dozen times before one finally opens. I jump inside and fuck with the buttons, hoping and praying that they don’t stop on another floor.

The metallic doors close and I watch as the numbers go up. 1, 2, 3, 4, no interruptions. I hold my breath as it finally lands on 5 and when the doors open, I’m running.

I follow the signs on the walls and scan each number for room 502.

When I find it, I bang on the door with my fist and try turning the knob but it’s locked from inside.

I panic and my breathing becomes rapid. I feel sweat beading at the base of my neck and my temple.

He could be touching her or hurting her and I can’t get inside to stop it.

I don’t hear any screams coming from inside the room.

I don’t hear anything and the silence is terrifying.

The sound of a lock unlocking grabs my attention. The device attached to the doorknob suddenly flashes green the way it would if I had used a room key. I turn the knob before it goes back to red and the door opens. I know Dallas has to somehow be responsible.

When I shove the door open, I barrel into the room and head straight through the suite and to the bedroom.

The door is closed and I kick it open with force.

It slams against the wall behind it, most likely leaving a hole in the drywall but I don’t give a single shit.

I’ll buy the whole fucking hotel if I have to.

Nothing is stopping me from saving my girl.

When I take in the sight before me, my knees practically crumble and give out under me.

The air catches in my lungs and my heart splits down the middle.

Aria’s slumped over, drugged and knocked out on the bed with her arms sprawled out and the zipper on the side of her dress nearly undone completely.

She has tear stains mixed with traces of mascara on her cheeks and the darkest of circles under her eyes.

Her skin looks pale and ashy and I panic for a split second that she may be dead.

I push that possibility aside just as quickly as I thought it. She can’t be dead. She can’t be.

I turn my head just in time to catch Rogan propping up a blue metallic phone on the dresser, angling the camera towards the bed where Aria lies.

It isn’t just any blue phone. It’s the one he planted in the nightstand.

Aria must’ve had it on her when he drugged her.

Anger sears hot through my chest and my entire body starts to shake with it.

When his eyes meet mine and I find that he’s shirtless, I snap.

I charge him with a growl, taking him down to the carpeted floor with my shoulder.

He wasn’t expecting me to come here. He wasn’t expecting me to find her.

I bring my fist back and punch him directly in the nose.

Blood spurts from his nose and I hit him again, deciding it isn’t enough blood.

He tries to shield his face but my hits land true, harder than any defense he could put up.

“Fuck!” He shouts, but the sound comes out broken because I land another blow.

I feel like I’m not within my own body. I don’t even see his face. I see hers, cold and pale in my head and the sight enrages me. He enrages me. He did this to her and I want to fucking kill him for it.

I keep punching until I feel my knuckles splitting, and even then I continue. When he’s about to fade out, I grip his throat and squeeze, angling my face towards his, “Why? Huh? Tell me why?” I’m screaming so loud I’m sure people in the hallway can hear.

He shakes his head, spitting blood as he chokes out, “You always got everything. I wanted to take her from you. To have one thing you couldn’t have. But you had to ruin that too.”

The knowledge that he was willing to do something like this to her just to ruin me twists the knife in my gut. I’m the reason for her suffering. “What did you do to her? Did you touch her?” I’m spitting in his face as I yell, but I don’t give a fuck. I’ll do much worse to him.

He laughs, “I didn’t get to. Her knight in shining armor showed up.”

I shake him, “What did you give her?”

“The same shit I gave you two the night at the club. Maybe a little more,” he smirks, “She’ll be knocked out for the rest of the night and she won’t remember anything tomorrow.”

I growl, “This whole time, you were planning on taking me down. That’s why you were such a dick and then pretended to be my friend. To be all of our friends.”

He smiles, “Look who finally figured it out.”

I punch him again, “You did this to her. You did this.” I punch him again. “You fucking drugged her, you drugged me . And you set us up and leaked the video to the world.”

I hear distant voices coming from somewhere down the hotel hallway, but I can’t focus on anything but his mangled face beneath me.

I want to punch a hole through his fucking face right now.

“You fucking piece of shit,” I rage as I land another punch.

His eyes close and his head turns to the side and just as I’m about to throw another punch, an arm grabs me and pulls me back.

I feel another one pinning me down from the other side and I try to struggle out of the four arms holding me down, but it doesn’t work.

I’m feral, absolutely animalistic as I attempt to free myself.

I watch as a flood of police officers enter the room and immediately move on Rogan.

I hear a radio for an ambulance and something about placing him under arrest, but I’m still thrashing.

I want to kill him for doing this to her. To us .

A dark voice commands in my ear, “Slater, you need to cool down. They’re arresting him. It’s over.” I turn my face and find Dallas staring at me, pinning me down from one side.

I don’t stop thrashing and the voice from the other side of me adds, “Your girl needs you right now. She needs you to keep your calm. Think about her, not him.” This time when I turn my face, I find Harvey staring intensely into my eyes.

Aria. Aria needs me. I stop thrashing and turn my face to find an EMS worker tending to her. Another one appears and they talk in codes and the only words I can hear are “drugs,” “possible overdose,” and “code blue.”

I try to shove out of their grips again and this time they let me go. I leap to my feet and rush to her side. The EMS workers try to keep me back so they can work on her and I keep a safe distance from her so as not to interfere. When I’m this close to her, I whisper, “Come on, baby.”

Two stretchers appear and I realize one is for Aria and the other for Rogan.

As they place her on the gurney, I follow them out with her and I chance one last look over my shoulder to find them handcuffing Rogan to the gurney they have him on.

This nightmare is finally fucking over, the mystery solved.

The only thing that matters now is her waking up and coming back to me.