Fast & Hard (The Fast 1)

Lennox: Lose the number and move on. I am.

My fingers are frantic flying over the screen, he has to understand, I did not do this. I would not do this to him. I lied but I would never sleep with Digby! I’m going to throw up. I hit send but the message won’t go through, it’s hung up trying to send. Send you bastard phone, send!

I can’t wait, I call him. It doesn’t even ring, I get an automated message that my call cannot be completed as dialed. Did he, did he block my number?

I check my signal, four bars. I call again. Same automated message.

Just to make sure my phone is working, I call the only person who will always answer my call.

He answers on the first ring.

“Cody?”

“What’s up, sis’?”

“Nothing, never mind,” I disconnect and start dry heaving.

In a panic, I call Lennox again and again, but it’s the same thing. He’s blocked me. What does he mean he’s moving on? Please don’t mean what I think it means.

I race back across the hall to his apartment, my hands so shaky it takes me three tries to open the door

. His suitcase is gone, most of his clothes are gone. No, no, no! I have to talk to him!

Not even closing the door I race down the hallway and fly down the stairs.

“Jack!” I beat on his door on the floor below us. Tears are flowing from my eyes so hard I can’t see straight. “Jack, I know you’re in there! Open the fucking door!” I pound on the door more so hard my fists are red. “Please, Jack!” I wail and sob.

Finally, the door opens and Matty stands in the entryway, Jack behind him on the sofa with a beer. Matty has ice in his veins, he looks like he wants to kill me. I have never seen him look so cold. And Matty always looks cold.

“Where is he?” I try to move into the apartment but Matty puts his hands on the door and frame to block me. I push him and wiggle through his arms, he huffs in disgust.

“He’s not here,” Matty says as I go from room to room like a crazy person calling for him. I’m out of my mind.

“Where is he?” I scream at them again. They both just stare at me like a raving lunatic. Because I am a raving lunatic. “Jack, please!” I go him and beg, prey on the fact that he’s always been kinder, more emotional, than Matty.

“You should go,” he utters and picks at the label on his beer bottle.

“Please, I did not do this!”

“At least the last one fucked him over after one bad season. You, he has one bad race and that was all it took,” Matty crosses his arms and sneers at me, his eye twitching.

“What? No! I did not do this! Please, just tell me where he is!”

“We saw you. With our own eyes,” he’s disgusted and shakes his head at me. “He’s in London. Likely a club. There are fifty thousand of them, good luck. Now leave.” Matty holds the door open and points the way out.

I collapse at Jack’s feet at the couch, literally begging. “Please tell me,” I whimper and don’t even bother wiping away the snot I know is running out of my nose.

“You have to know where our loyalty will always be. You should go, Mallory.” Jack runs his fingers through his hair then goes to the door, his arms crossed too, but staring at the floor.

I feel like a garden snake slithering past them out the door into the hallway where Matty slams the door in my face. I know they’re right, he’s gone. But I check the parking lot anyway. His car is gone.

Making my way back to my flat, I have no idea what to do. He doesn’t check any direct messages, doesn’t do email, his inbox had over 16,000 messages the last time I logged into it. I handle all of his digital communications. I’m the only one who will see it if I contact him in any way.

I could call an Uber and head into London. But, as usual, Matty is right. London is enormous. There are tens of thousands of places he could go, if he even went to London. Why would Matty or Jack give me a hint, no matter how trivial? They think I’m worse than Kate.

I pace from room to room in my flat until I collapse on the bed. There’s no way he will ever forgive me for lying, even if I explain it to him. “Photos don’t lie,” he threw that back in my face, the same thing I accused him of. Stupid, stupid, stupid. How could I be so stupid?

All I can do is lie here and cry until it hurts, until my eyes are raw, and hope he comes home. Alone. Not with anyone he’s ‘moving on’ with tonight. But he’s hurt and angry. The thought wretches my stomach so violently I barely make it to the toilet in time to throw up.