Time to find Little Miss Stabby and bring her back to the party so she can get to know her big brother.
On my way up to her room, I stop to knock at the bathroom door closest to where we are, but all I hear is fucking and moaning. If anyone needs to piss, it’s gonna be a tight fit in there.
“Hey, Grinder,” I salute one of the Khunts as she saunters down the hall, coming from the opposite direction. I don’t stop, I don’t engage. I do smile because I’m polite like that and my momma raised me right.
That reminds me, just as I reach Parker’s temporary room, that I need to call my sister and see how she’s doing with all the uppity college fucktards. Anything other than fucking fantasticmeans heads will roll. Literally. Rolling down the street with no teeth.
Using the side of my fist, I bang on the door. I’m guessing she’s deep into the jetlag and probably dead asleep.
I bang again. Damn, she really is Sledge’s sister. That motherfucker will sleep through the apocalypse and wake up just as the zombies take over the Earth.
“Parker, open up!” With my hands on my hips, I let my head fall back and look up at the ceiling. These Brits are going to be the end of me and my patience. Of which I have a fuckload. Not that anyone agrees with me.
“Fuck it!” Reaching for the knob, I try one last time just in case she’s naked. Oh fuck, I hope she’s naked and waiting for me to come inside. In all the ways. “Last chance, Miss Stabby. Open up or I’m doing it myself.” One Mississippi. Two Mississippi.
With a hard push, the door swings open and it takes me a beat to understand that the room is completely empty.
No Parker. No purple monstrosity. No backpack.
“Motherfucker!” I don’t know who I want to kill first. Sledge for being a complete asshole or Parker for bailing at the first sign of awkward silence. Digging my phone out of the back pocket of my jeans, I look at the time.
It’s been what…? Fifteen? Twenty minutes, tops? She doesn’t have a car, she can’t be that far. Unless she called a cab or car share fucker. The possibility that I could catch her before she disappears is what motivates me to run out of the room and almost break my neck down the stairs of our former psychiatric ward. These fuckers aren’t wood, they are one hundred percent cement and will open my skull on contact.
At least, I think they will, and I do not want to find out if I’m right on this.
As soon as I arrive at the clubhouse, I come to a skidding stop and search for the man of the hour.
At the bar, he’s got a Khunt lying on her back with shot glasses placed all over her front, lemon halves on her nipples. Shit, that’s a great idea. Why haven’t I ever thought of that?
I shake my head…
Not now, Grinder. Fucking focus.
“Sledge!” He’s about to bend to take a shot without using his hands, but he freezes and looks up at me. Just by my tone—which is always on this side of fun and flirty—he knows something’s up. Even drunk, he’s perceptive as hell.
“The fuck, Grinder?”
“She’s gone.” Damn, I need to stop smoking. And inhaling Boner’s smoke in our apartment. That shit’s gonna put me in an early grave. That being said, the crazy-ass speeds on my bike would do the job nicely, too. And the acrobatics. And the—
Fuck, now’s not the time to have my mind reeling.
“Who?” He blinks, confused and a little annoyed if the curl of his lips is any indicator.
“Who do you think? Your sister.” I’m guessing he’s going to jump out of his seat and go mental. I know I would if it were my sister. Hell, I’d be going door to door at every hotel, motel, and B&B. No fucks given.
“Did she leave a note?” I take a step back like he’s punched me in the gut.
“What’s going on?” Mac is at my side, one hand on my forearm.
“Parker isn’t in her room and all of her stuff is gone.” I’m not panicking, I just don’t like the fact that she’s out there alone. It pisses me off that she’s paying for a place when she had a perfectly comfortable and clean room here. Close to me.
“I’m sure she’s fine, but if you want, I can take Spencer’s car. We can see if she’s walking. We’ll take her where she wants to go.” I fucking love Mac. If she weren’t with Psycho I’d…nah, not my type. But I’ll BFF her all day long.
“I’ll go, Mac. Y’all go home with Gryffin. I’ve got this.” Spencer’s smile is soft and caring when he looks at Mac, and for the first time, I don’t look at him like I want to devour him. It’s all respect as I relegate lust to the back seat of my mind. For now.
“Yeah, all right. You’re sure, though?” Mac asks, looking from me to Spencer and back to me.
“Totally sure.”