Page 5 of Taking Turns

I blink my eyes. Three times, fast.

“Rochelle—”

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m sorry—”

But I’m up and out of the bed, fisting her hair and pulling her with me. She drops to the floor, whimpering.

“I’m sorry,” she says again.

“Who the fuck are you?” I ask. “Where the fuck is Rochelle?”

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“You’re gonna be sorry all right,” I say, letting go of her hair so I can open the drawer in the bedside table. I take out the ball gag and strap it on.

She doesn’t even try to get away. Just lets me do it.

I pull her to her feet and reach for the rope, yanking her hands behind her back and wrapping the rope around her wrists. Tight.

And then I shove her into my closet and close the door.

I pace up and down the hallway, trying my best to figure what the fuck just happened. And then I’m on the phone, calling Bric. It goes to voicemail.

“Fuck!” I yell. “Fuck!”

I find Bric’s message stream in my phone and text, Come upstairs. Now. Emergency!!!!!

I do the same for Smith.

Five minutes later they both come bursting through the door of Rochelle’s apartment.

I’m sitting on the couch, half naked. I had to open the closet door to get pants and I just grabbed at the first hanger. I think they’re actually Bric’s pants.

I place my elbows on my knees and hold my head, rubbing my eyes, still trying to figure out what’s happening.

“What the fuck is going on up here?” Bric says. He looks panicked, his eyes wild as they search the room for the emergency. “Where’s Rochelle?”

I look up, find Bric’s face. Then Smith’s. “She’s gone.”

“Gone?” they both say together.

“Did you kill her?” Smith asks. “Choke her to death while you were fucking her?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “No, I didn’t fucking kill her, you asshole. She’s fucking gone! Like, left!”

“Then why are you half naked?” Bric asks, calming down.

I take a deep, deep breath. Hold it for the count of three. And then let it out. “I fucked—” But I have to stop and shake my head because it makes no sense. “She left someone in her place,” I finally say. “I fucked her. I fucked her before I knew it wasn’t Rochelle.”

Chapter Two - Smith

Well, this is an interesting twist. I have to say, of all the things I imagined happening tonight, a missing Rochelle was never on that list.

And yet—

“Where did she go?” Quin is right up in my face. We are the same height—to the half centimeter—so we are eye to eye.

“How should I know?” I reply, running a hand through my hair. “I haven’t fucking seen her in months.”