Page 49 of Toxic B!tch

Me: I’m serious, Indigo.

Nothing.

That tight feeling in my chest gets worse. Maybe she’s at work?

I grab my keys and head to Crimson. The place is still alive when I walk in—music thumping, bodies moving, neon lights flickering off the bottles behind the counter. I scan the bar, my eyes catching on Emil, one of the bouncers.

He notices me and lifts his chin in greeting. “She’s not here.”

I don’t bother pretending I don’t know who he’s talking about. “When did she leave?”

“About an hour ago.”

An hour. Long enough to get home. Maybe. But I don’t think she went home.

“Everything good?” Emil asks, drying off a glass.

No. “Yeah,” I lie, turning back toward the door.

I drive by her place, but the house is dark. Her bike isn’t out front, but I don’t have the code for the garage to see if it’s inside.

Okay. Maybe she stopped somewhere. She loves those milkshakes from Beth’s. She could be there.

I make the drive, my fingers tapping against the steering wheel. The feeling in my gut won’t settle. This isn’t normal. She’d text me back. She’d answer my call.

I pull up to Beth’s, park, and head inside. The bell chimes as I step through the door. The place is mostly empty, save for a couple of late-night stragglers.

“Hey, Malik,” Beth greets me from behind the counter. “Usual?”

“Not tonight.” I glance around. “Indigo been in?”

Beth shakes her head. “Not since last week. Everything alright?”

No.

“Yeah.” Another lie.

I turn to leave when my phone rings. My heart kicks up—I think it’s her, finally—but when I check the screen, it’s Marie.

Why the hell is she calling this late?

I answer. “Hey, Marie. Everything alright?”

“I’m not sure.”Marie’s voice wavers slightly.

I stop walking. “What’s up?”

“I just… I don’t know. I know we’ve got bad coyotes back there, so maybe they got themselves a good dinner, but it didn’t sound like an animal.”

That feeling in my gut twists into something worse. “Stay inside, Marie. I’ll check it out.”

“Thank you, Malik.”

I hang up, stride to my truck, and climb in, gripping the wheel.

Right now, Marie needs me.

The night air is thick with humidity, clinging to my skin as I drive toward Marie’s. My gut twists, the unease settling deep in my bones. Indigo will have to wait, but damn, I don’t like not knowing where she is. She’s been acting strange, and I’m worried—worried about what’s eating at her, worried about how desperate she was to drown herself in me the other night, like she was trying to forget something. Or maybe trying to bury something.