No answer. I stand, groaning at the stiffness in my muscles, and stretch. My cheek feels hot and tight around the stitches; I should ice it. I move slowly from the bed to the kitchenette, hoping to find A.J. hiding in some corner.
He isn’t there.
I try not to freak out, figuring he’s probably taking Bella for a pee or something. I find ice in the freezer, wrap it in a paper towel, and press it to my face. Then I hear a low sound from the bathroom. I c**k my head, frowning.
The faint sound comes again.
The skin on the back of my neck tingling, I lower the ice and move toward the closed bathroom door. I stand there a moment, listening.
“A.J.? Are you all right?”
Again, no answer. But my intuition is screaming that something is wrong, so I knock lightly, calling his name again.
“I’m fi
