When I don’t find Rylee in the kitchen, I head out to the backyard. While the party is very much going on out here as well, it’s not nearly as loud. Most people are circled around several fancy fire pits that line the end of the stone patio.
Again, there’s no Rylee.
Maybe there was another party she went to. Maybe it was one with her friends from her old school. It still doesn’t explain why she didn’t shoot me a text telling me she was going.
The thought occurs to me that she could be upstairs, but just as quickly, I dismiss it. Upstairs is usually reserved for fucking.
I turn to go back inside to look around again, thinking I should call Charles to see if he knows where she is, but I’m waylaid by Tiffany right outside the door. She stares up at me with seductive eyes. Or eyes she thinks are seductive. To me, they’re just a plain shit brown. Not like the warm caramel that Rylee’s are.
“I didn’t expect to see you here, Z. You haven’t been to any parties lately,” she purrs.
“I’m looking for Rylee,” I state. “Have you seen her?”
Instead of answering, she dances her fingers up my abs. Before she makes it past my belly button, I grab her wrist, pull her hand off me, and shove it away.
“Tiffany,” I warn, my voice hard and unforgiving. “Have you seen Rylee?”
“Maybe.” She tilts her head to the side and juts out her tits, as if the bitch thinks that would entice me.
“No more fucking games, Tiffany,” I growl impatiently. “Where is she?”
“Why are you so hard up on her? What does she have that I don’t?”
“I don’t have enough time to go through all the things she has that you don’t. The list is fucking endless. Now, tell me where the hell she is.”
She tosses me a scathing look, but it doesn’t last long as a slow smile creeps across her face. I ball my hands into fists to keep from wrapping them around her throat. I don’t like her look. It holds secrets.
“She’s upstairs,” she says, her grin widening.
I take a threatening step toward her. “If you’ve done something to her, Tiffany, I swear to Christ I’ll make your life fucking hell.”
“Oh, I haven’t done anything to her.” Her tone a saccharine sweet.
I leave her in the backyard, afraid if I stay in her presence much longer I may do something I’ll regret. Heading inside, I shove people out of the way and go for the stairs leading to the second floor. Charles hits the bottom step right as I do. He looks surprised to see me. I’m damn surprised to see him, too. He and Rylee are usually stuck together like glue when they’re out together.
“Why aren’t you with Rylee?” I demand.
His brows jump up then narrow, his expression changing from surprise to anger.
What the fuck?
“I was, but then I lost her. I’m looking for her now. Question is,” he leans closer, “why are you here looking for her? Haven’t you done enough?”
“What the hell does that mean?” I grit my teeth. “You know what? I don’t have time for this. We need to find her.”
Without waiting for a response, I take the stairs two at a time and stalk toward the first door I see. I’ve been to this house plenty of times for parties, so I know there are six bedrooms up here.
The first one has a couple going at it on the bed, the guy’s white ass in the air as he pumps away, while another couple is on the loveseat in the corner. I don’t bother to close the door before I move onto the next room. This one is surprisingly empty. I check two more rooms and find them both occupied, but no Rylee.
I move to the fifth door and spy Charles going for the last one. The door is cracked open a couple of inches. I push it open and it taps against the wall. The room is dark, the only light coming from a bedside lamp.
“Leave. This room is taken,” the guy grunts from the bed as his hips rock back and forth against the girl underneath him. He’s still dressed, but I’m sure that’ll change within the next few minutes. The girl’s face and body are hidden, the only thing showing is one of her bare legs the guy has propped around his waist.
I’m about to leave when the glint of metal catches my eye. Taking a couple of steps closer, I zero in on the silver bracelet wrapped around the girl’s ankle. Pain hits me square in the chest, followed closely by red-hot anger. Just a few days ago, I fiddled with that bracelet when Rylee had her feet propped up in my lap.
“Shit, Rylee,” Charles mutters behind me.
I don’t know if the guy heard or sensed we hadn’t left the room, but he turns his head. I briefly register that I know him before my eyes lock on Rylee’s face. Her head is tilted to the side, her hands resting on the mattress on either side of her face, and her eyes are hooded from the alcohol she must have consumed. Her gaze briefly glances over me before she twists her head to look up at the ceiling.