Everything was supposed to be okay. I didn’t have anything to do with Zeke’s disappearance, so I had no reason to worry. Yet, worrying was the only thing I seemed to be able to do.
I sighed, took off my jacket, and tossed it on the floor before collapsing onto my bed. The softness of the mattress and the smell of fresh sheets provided temporary comfort, but sleep didn’t come as easily as I wanted it to.
“Ashton,” I mumbled, casting a glance at the door. “Is this why you weren’t at work today?” I thought to myself.
Everything about Zeke’s disappearance was aligned in a way that made Ashton seem guilty. Maybe he was guilty. That was probably why he refused to tell me what he really did to Zeke.
The door swung open, and Ashton walked in—his eyes dark, his clothes drenched in blood. I flin
