Gone in the Night by Anna J. Stewart

Author:Anna J. Stewart [Stewart, Anna J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2017-09-15T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Max stood at Allie’s living room window and watched the parade of cars carrying her friends away. Tomlinson and Bowie had taken off a while ago, replaced by another duo who, as far as Max was concerned, weren’t much different. They parked their not-so-inconspicuous sedan strategically across Allie’s driveway, ensuring she couldn’t leave without them. Not that she was going anywhere at—he glanced at his watch—nearly one thirty in the morning.

In the dark room alone, the night pressed in on him, ringing in his ears as if a silent reminder of the nearly twenty-four hours since Hope vanished.

He swallowed hard, doing his best to shove the growing fear aside. Every second that passed, every minute they didn’t hear, was both good news and bad. It had only been a day for him and yet, somehow, Allie, Simone and Eden had dealt with the aftereffects of their friend’s murder for over two decades.

How? he wondered as exhaustion crept over him like a cat stalking its prey. How did anyone ever deal with something like this? As selfish as it sounded, he did not want to find out.

“I put fresh towels in the guest bathroom for you.” Allie’s voice was quiet enough that she didn’t surprise him. How could she when he felt the air charge whenever she was around him? “Guest room is all ready.”

He nodded, unable to form the words around the paralyzing grief threatening to take hold. She moved in behind him, brushed timid fingers over his arm. “You’re completely justified being angry at me.”

“Good to know I have your approval.” He saw her eyes glint in the dim light cast from the kitchen. “No head games tonight, Doc, please.”

To put some distance between them, he walked over to the small sofa, sat where he’d waited hours earlier for her to come home. How had so much happened between now and then? How had so much changed?

She’d changed. Her clothes at least. Gone was the bright spring color of soft fabric. Instead she wore a pair of striped pink flannel pajama bottoms and matching top. If possible, she appeared even younger than she did normally, with her face displaying that freshly scrubbed glow. She tucked her feet under, curling into a ball in the corner of the sofa, close enough for him to feel the warmth of her body radiating toward him. Close enough to smell the freshness of the soap she’d used. “I could make you some warm milk. If you think it might help you to sleep.”

“I don’t sleep, remember?” But he wanted to now, more than he had in he couldn’t remember how long. He slumped down, rested his head on the back of the sofa, stretched out his legs. What he wouldn’t give for a few hours of oblivion, a few minutes of not dwelling on what might be, on what could be happening to Hope. On what would never be the same. “I appreciate the offer.”

“Personally, I could do with a fifth of Scotch, but Cole finished mine the last time he was here.

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