Page 3 of Rescued By Midnight

“Fuck you, you wouldn’t.”

He reaches for his phone. Goddamn him. I drain my beer and stand. The song is pretty catchy—something new by Cinderella, from the sounds of it. When I hear Bastian Crown’s voice join hers, I know for sure it’s a Cinderella track.

Everyone on the dance floor is pressed together, bodies writhing. From the DJ’s vantage point, it probably looks like some kind of orgy. I find a group of women and dance close by until one of them eyes me back, her smile encouraging.

I move in, dancing without showing off. Letting her shine. One of her friends mouths, “Oh my god, Julie!” as I come in closer and grab the hips of who I assume must be Julie.

“This is cool?” I lean in close to ask her.

“Yes.” She spins in my arms and puts her hands on the back of my neck, her fingernails lightly scratching.

We sway to the music. She presses closer, which I certainly don’t mind, although I wouldn’t have pushed so far, so fast.

Landon was right to bully me into this. I need to move my body, to touch another person. Physical contact is important to me, always has been. In the past few years, that’s been easy to forget.

Maybe Landon would do a one-night-stand with me. Probably not with Julie, who seems too brazen for our tastes, but we could find someone else who suits us both, at least long enough for a night.

Julie’s eyes narrow at something behind me.

“Everything okay?” I turn and see Landon gesturing at me from the bar.

She pouts. “That guy over there is trying to get your attention. Is he your boyfriend or something?”

“No.” But I don’t like the way she said the word boyfriend. It sounded a touch too judgmental. I carefully remove her arms from my shoulders. “I should see what he wants. Thanks for the dance.”

I barely hear her huff of outrage as I move away. That interaction could’ve gone better. Usually the women I dance with here are happy for a brief connection, like I am.

Ignoring whatever fallout is happening behind me, I meet Landon at the edge of the floor.

“We gotta go,” he says.

“What? I’m finally dancing like you wanted. See?” I point at Julie, who is angrily pointing back while likely talking shit about me to her friends.

“No, I’m serious.”

I give him a doubtful look.

“An alert just came in.” He holds up his phone to show me a status update from the San Esteban Police Department. “They found her.”

ALICE - NOW

Brayden strides into the room, his face pale as he looks me up and down in my hospital bed. He’s shorter than I remember.

“Alice,” he croaks.

I want to laugh. The surprise on his face, all wide eyes, makes him look like a frog. When he says my name like that, with his mouth gaping, he sounds like one, too.

But I also want to cry with relief, because all those dreams I’ve had for the past year, all those memories that helped get me through…they saved me. He saved me. And here he finally is, in front of me.

I reach for him, my hand weighed down by the IV line.

He starts forward, but then someone else enters the room. Jericha, my best friend.

“Alice?” Disbelief is etched on her features, and although she smiles, I know her. I know that smile is fake. She lowers her hand protectively over her protruding belly. She’s pregnant.

A glittering diamond sparkles on her fourth finger.

Brayden stops dead, looking from me to her.