Page 33 of Rogue’s Promise

The vibrating kicks up again, each tremor against the table like a drill through my temples. I answer on the fourth ring, expecting an assistant’s voice but being greeted with an exasperated sigh inside. Fuck, it’s actually him. Dragging myself to sit up, already knowing I’m in trouble for something, I try to keep my voice level.

“Yes, Father?”

“Laura Hopkins did not return to her dorm after the party,” is his reply, cutting straight through the bullshit. I frown for a second, not knowing who he’s referring to, until her face slams to the forefront of my mind. Laura. That’s the girl Meg asked me to invite to the party.

“What do you mean, she didn’t return?” I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to stop the pounding. My father sighs again.

“Did I fucking stutter? She’s missing. Her roommate called the cops an hour ago.” My chest tightens at that word, everything inside of me going still. Missing. Not late. Not misplaced. Missing. Licking my dry lips, to no avail, I search for clarity in my father’s clipped tone.

“How do you know she’s not sleeping in a stranger’s bed, or passed out in a bathroom somewhere?”

“The roommate already checked around a few known hook-ups,” he seethes impatiently, “and apparently found Laura’s bag, phone, and a handful of her hair in a bush near your house. There are signs of a struggle. A team has been dispatched to investigate.”

I can’t suppress the shiver that rolls through my shoulders, the room around me dropping in temperature. Visions of blood smears burst to the forefront of my mind, the sickening smell that clogged in my throat quickly following.

“A second kidnapping on campus,” I mutter, my hand falling away from my face. A cold knot sinks in my gut as history flashes before my dazed eyes. Another girl, almost a year apart. A girl who happened to be with Meg last night. It’s too much of a coincidence, it’s Harrison’s M.O. all over. Jumping out of bed, I ignore the stabbing behind my eyes as I hunt for clothes. “I need to check Meg got home safe⁠—”

“You’ll do nothing of the sort,” my father growls, and I stop in my tracks. “She was last seen at your frat house, Everest. A supposed kidnapping just forty-eight hours after you’ve tied yourself to the victim of the last one. I can sense a media shitstorm of speculation a mile off. You need to control this before the press are all over it. Find out who saw her last, and ensure they tell the cops it was nowhere near you.”

“A girl is missing, and all you care about is appearances?” I scoff, although I’m not surprised. Tugging yesterday’s jeans on, I press the phone between my ear and shoulder blade, almost toppling onto the floor.

“Calloways don’t have scandals,” my father states evenly, ignoring my struggles and grunts.

“Apparently, Calloways don’t have hearts either,” I huff to myself, but he picks up on it anyway. I can practically hear his narrowed eyes and tightened jaw.

“You know how I feel about your sentimentality. There’s no place for it in our world.” I break the connection between my ear and the phone long enough to drag a t-shirt over my head. There’s no use commenting on my sentimentality, and it’s nothing he hasn’t already said before. My father believes my fondness for Cody makes me vulnerable. If only he knew just how weak I really am behind closed doors.

“I’m going to check on Meg,” I state, stuffing my feet into sneakers and hopping to shove the laces down the side of the shoe. My father begins to respond, but it’s me who cuts him off this time. “She was likely the last person to see Laura, or she’ll have insight into Laura’s actions last night.” It’s all lies, a quick excuse to get him off the phone.

After a few more demands that I’ve stopped listening to, the call cuts and I rush to leave the room. The house is as lifeless as it is trashed, red cups crushed into the carpet, dried splashes against the walls, stale alcohol clinging to every surface.

I race down the stairs two at a time, rousing a round of groans from the sofas. Those who passed out blink vaguely, trying to get their bearings as I stride straight past and exit through the main door. The morning air slices through me, the porch steps causing me to stumble, but I don’t stop moving. Especially not as a row of police cars speed towards the frat house from behind me. I quickly lower my head and duck into a side alley.

If it’s really him, if Harrison was here, what would have stopped him from going after Meg again? What if Mitchell didn’t see her all the way into her room as ordered? What if there was a shadow lurking if he did? These questions and more are encouraged by the clusters of students gathering across campus, all staring at me with an edge of pity and concern. Do they know something I don’t? I hear Harrison’s name whispered several times, each one speeding my strides until I break out into a run, not stopping until I’m rushing up the stairwell of Hawthorne House.

Bypassing Cody’s door without a glance, I skid to a stop in front of the next one along, my fist hitting the wood hard enough for pain to shoot through my knuckles.

“Meg, open this fucking door!” I holler. Met with silence radiating through the other side, I try the handle. It’s locked, but that doesn’t fill me with any ease. She might not have even made it back. “Megan! I’m three seconds from breaking in!” I holler, uncaring of who I wake as I bang harder on the wood.

My pulse spikes, hammering in time with the thumping in my chest. Last night, Meg was in my study, peacefully sleeping. I should have left her there. I should have known she was safest under my watch, but as per usual, I talked myself out of it. I couldn’t stop considering the consequences if more rumors started to spiral, impacting her reputation and mental state.

Just as I rattle the door on its hinges, there’s the shuffle of movement inside. A thump, a crack of something knocked aside, and then the rasp of her voice. It doesn’t say much, but relief punches straight through me regardless. She’s here. She’s still here.

The lock turns a few seconds later, and the door wrenches open. Meg appears in the gap, pale, disheveled, and being swallowed by an oversized hoodie. Tugging it down over her bare thighs, she glares at me despite her hair being a mess around her face. She looks like she’s walked out of hell. Beautiful, furious, hungover, and thankfully alive. Her eyes narrow against the light, confusion and pain carved into every line of her expression. For one suspended second, my fist stays raised between us, my body frozen in place.

Then I grab her. I haul her into my chest and hold her there, one arm clamping around her back while my other hand pins her head against my heart as if I can settle my panic through force. She stiffens but doesn’t push me away, her half-sleepy state working to my advantage this time.

“You’re here,” I sigh, a shudder working through me. I sense her frown pulling against my chest.

“Where else would I be?” Meg slurs in confusion, and the rational part of my brain snaps back into place. She doesn’t know. She doesn’t remember how she got back. She doesn’t realize how lucky she is. Instead, she’s looking over my shoulder, her gaze drifting toward Cody’s closed door down the hall. Her curiosity is searching for the missing parts of last night, just as mine did when I stirred less than thirty minutes ago.

Releasing her too abruptly, my hands settle on her shoulders in an attempt to keep us arm’s length apart. With the flood of relief pouring through me, I can’t be trusted too close, or I might give in to basic instinct. Locking down my concern, I force my jaw to reset and my breathing to steady.

“There was a kidnapping last night. We thought…there are whispers that he might have come back.” The color drains from Meg’s face in an instant, and I hate that I’m the one who has to deliver this news. Then again, I can’t think of anyone else who wants to be here for her at this moment more than me.

“He?” Meg swallows dryly, her eyes dancing with fear now. “You think it’s Harrison?” It takes everything in me to keep my face impassive. His name should have never been in her mouth. He should have never existed in her world, and he especially shouldn’t evoke the panic and fear I’m witnessing now.

I hate that man with a clarity that should frighten me, but only cements how Meg has come to mean more to me than I’d care to admit out loud. I used to think toying with her brought a veil of gratification to my life. Then she went missing, and I felt like a part of me became lost too. None of which I can say, because I owe it to Cody to restrain myself.