“There was a sticker on Seth’s door last time I was here. A Damage Control sticker. With a snake.”
“Hey, I remember that.” Rafe throws down his cigarette and stomps on it. “She’s right. Last time I was here, it was on his door.”
“Fucking terrifying. I’m sure the aliens took it.” Zane shakes his head and draws on his cigarette, the embers glowing red.
“I’m just—” I step around him, pull something from the trash. “Jesus.”
“Beware of the aliens,” Zane mutters from behind me.
Rafe steps closer. “What is it?”
I pull out a plastic bag, filled with clothes. On top sits a Batman mug. “This… I think this belongs to Seth. I remember seeing it in his room.”
“Damn, that’s right. Isn’t that the mug Ocean gave him last Christmas?” Rafe frowns. “He threw out his stuff?”
I pull another bag. It tears. Paperbacks spill to the filthy ground. Romances. Sci-fi novels. Two barbell weights crash down, barely missing my feet.
“This is all his stuff. Why would he throw it away? It makes no sense. He throws his stuff away, turns off his phone and disappears. Why?”
“He got tired of it?” Rafe mutters. But he doesn’t look convinced.
That’s because it doesn’t sound like Seth. He has so little, I can’t believe he’d throw it away on a whim.
The bad feeling is back, choking me.
“What if he didn’t leave?” I ask.
“You mean he’s locked up upstairs?” Rafe glances up, as if he can see into Seth’s window.
“No, I mean, what if he moved out or something?”
“And go where? He can barely afford this apartment.” Zane turns to Rafe, frowning. “Hey, has he had any trouble paying the rent lately? I don’t think he has a job, and he never found a roomie, did he?”
“No. You think—?”
“Yeah, I do fucking think.” Zane takes one last drag from his cigarette and puts it out on the wall, his eyes dark with something like fury. “Let’s go find the landlord.”
***
We knock on the landlord’s door, and I stand in front of it while the guys hide. A decoy.
The door opens and a squirrely man stares up at me. “Yes?”
Before I say a word, Rafe and Zane step up behind me, nudge me aside, and barge into the apartment.
I follow, trembling, certain I’ll witness some sort of medieval torture applied to drag the truth out of the guy—but in fact a few words from Rafe ensure he spills the beans.
Yes, he evicted Seth. Yesterday. No, he doesn’t know where Seth is.
In fact, in the end we have to haul Rafe away from the guy, because he’s about to tear him a new one.
“That fucking son of a bitch,” Rafe hisses as Zane grabs him and pulls him out, and I close the door. “He just kicked him out, threw away his stuff. Motherfucker. He knew he should’ve told me. We had an agreement, goddammit!”
“Calm down, fucker.” Zane shoves him up against the wall. “Let’s be cool. We need to find Seth. Weather is turning cold, and it’s raining.”
“Why didn’t he come to us?” Rafe tears himself free from Zane’s hold and shoves his hands through his hair.
“He thought we gave up on him,” I say, because I see it clearly now. “All of us.”