Page 114 of Rough Hard Fierce (Chicago Underground 1-3)
He leaned back, amused. His hand came up and stroked my hair. I closed my eyes and dreamed.
When I woke up, I was in the bed. In the dark and alone.
I sighed. That man was more obstinate than I gave him credit for. I didn’t want to nag him, but I wouldn’t be able to sleep. I got up and peeked in Bailey’s room, but she slept on, snoring softly. I went downstairs. He wasn’t in the living room, though the throw pillows were still squashed from where we’d sat on the sofa. I checked his study and the kitchen—nothing. Had I missed him upstairs? Maybe he’d decided to stand behind the curtains, seeing as a certain nosy girlfriend had disturbed his reflection last time. I should let him be, but a little bit of unease had wormed its way inside me.
Back upstairs I checked the bathroom, which was still open and dark. Then his closet. His clothes hung there, like always, but there was a gap. It could be a trick of the light. Or maybe it was laundry day.
It wasn’t.
The sadness hit me full force then. He’d left; I knew it.
I checked behind the curtains anyway. Then I went downstairs and stared at the oil blot where his truck should have been parked, to be sure.
What did it mean? Was I supposed to move out? Was I supposed to wait for him?
I’d thought we’d stay together, I really had. And barring that, I figured we’d break up and I’d move out. Never had I really imagined that he’d leave me alone…in his house.
Chapter Eleven
The day dawned drizzly. Bailey watched morning cartoons, happily oblivious to the fact that we’d soon be leaving. I sat on the couch drinking my coffee, memorizing whatever details I could see.
When I got the energy to get up, I’d have to start packing. Then we’d have to move into a new place of our own. The details on how we’d accomplish any of that were hazy, but that didn’t make them less real.
I supposed it made sense that Colin would break up this way. Quietly, the way he did everything else. And it also illustrated just how angry he was with me, that he couldn’t even give me the courtesy of a get out.
He just slipped away, leaving me to figure it out and get myself gone. I could stay, make a fuss, but that would just be embarrassing for all of us.
I would miss this place. I would miss Colin more, but for now I soaked in the somber peace of the house. The moldings at the bottom of the wall didn’t match the floorboards. They were a different kind of wood. I’d never gotten to ask Colin if he knew how that had happened
There was a cobweb at the top of the slanted ceiling that I’d never been able to reach, not even standing on a stool and waving a broom. It had been here before me, and it would still be there after I left.
The weather hadn’t stayed warm enough to spend much time in the backyard. I would have liked a barbecue. I’d never been to one, but they sounded nice.
A knock sounded at the door.
If they were knocking, then they weren’t Colin, so I didn’t care.
The knocking grew more insistent. They’d wake up the neighborhood.
I got up and opened the door. It was Detective Cameron, but he didn’t look like Detective Cameron, because instead of a dark suit, he wore faded jeans and a white T-shirt. His hair was jagged, and there were dark shadows under his eyes.
“Is she here?” he asked.
Oh, Shelly, what have you done to him? “She’s not.”
“She’s with him, isn’t she? I knew it. I just came from there, but the fucking butler insisted—”
“No, she’s not with Philip either,” I said. “She got her own place.”
“Oh.” He blinked. “She’s okay?”
“She’s fine. Recovering well.”
He understood that I wasn’t going to tell him, not that I could hold him off for long. He would track her down at some point if he wanted to. But if Shelly didn’t want to be with him, what good would it do? It seemed today was the day for breakups.
“Come in if you want.” I opened the door wide.
He tilted his head, trying to glance around me. “Are you sure? I figured I’d have to fight him just to talk to you.”
