My hand goes to my necklace, the sweet gift from Dash, that meant so much to me. I was selfish and self-absorbed tonight. I didn’t let myself see what was in front of me, which was Dash. In the end, Tyler protected Bella, as Dash would have wanted, and used me, when he really had no other choice. But I didn’t protect Dash.
“You were friends,” I say and it’s not a question. Yes, he has a business interest in Dash, but no one can punch someone’s buttons the way Tyler punched Dash’s button tonight, without knowing them well.
“We were,” he says. “On some level, we still are.”
I’d argue that point, but I think I might be wrong. I don’t ask what happened between them. There is much I should have heard from Dash when he was ready, that came to me without his consent.
Tyler doesn’t fill in any blanks, and I don’t think that’s because he’s respecting Dash’s privacy, either. He has his own reasons, and that’s fine. I get it. This is his private story, just as it’s Dash’s.
We arrive at my house, which is really his house, and Tyler pulls into the driveway and kills the engine. “I’ll walk you to the door.”
“No. I’m fine.”
“Are you sure you’re okay alone?”
“No,” I say. “No, I’m not, but neither is he.” I glance over at him. “If you talk to him—”
“I’ll call you.”
I nod and exit the car, walking to the door. Once I have it open, I wave at Tyler and enter. I lock up and set the alarm, and lean on the door. The house feels empty and so do I. I stand there, replaying the entire night, and I don’t know how much time passes. I tell myself to go to bed, but I know I will never sleep. I sit down on the bed and pull off my boots, lying back on the mattress.
Go home, Allie.
Hearing Dash’s voice in my head, I sit up and sigh. I need to calm my nerves. I grab my phone and I want to call Dash, but I know he won’t answer. And I know I won’t know what to even say. Texting is a coward’s answer, but it’s the answer I choose. But my words, my words are brave. I want to see you. I need to see you. Please. I’m sorry I left. I was just scared, Dash. I’m scared of how much you mean to me.
Phone in hand, I can’t just stare at it. I stand up and head through the house and down to the wine cellar. I’ll pick a bottle and to hell with how expensive it is. I need help sleeping. I need to calm down. Once I’m down there, I start surveying the bottles, in between eyeing my messages that don’t change. I’m reading a label when there’s a sound upstairs. I freeze, holding my breath, telling myself it’s just the house settling, but there it is again. A creak of the floorboard. I gently and quietly slide the bottle back into place. Tyler has the alarm code. It has to be Tyler. But coming in like this, that just doesn’t feel like something he’d do.
Hands trembling, I walk to the light switch and flip it off and then head to a corner, and squat down. I dial Tyler. The call fails. Of course, it does. I’m in the cellar. I try another three times and finally it goes through. The minute Tyler answers I say, “Where are you?”
“At Dash’s trying to get him to answer the door. Have you talked to him?”
My heart leaps and I disconnect, trying to use the signal I have when I have it. I dial Dash. He doesn’t answer. Of course not. I text him: Just please tell me if you’re here. Are you in the house? Dash?
My phone rings in my hand and fails, but the sound, the ring, was a mistake. I quickly put my phone on silent. It rings again with Dash’s number. I answer with, “Please tell me you’re in the house?”
“No. I’m not in the house, Allie. Is someone there? What is—”
There’s another creak of the floor. Someone is walking around now. That’s it, I’m not emotional and paranoid. I try 911. The call failed. I try again. The 911 operator answers and the call drops. The light from upstairs goes dark. I hold my breath, waiting for what comes next.
THE END…FOR NOW