Unacceptable. Just unacceptable. I find my other half and he takes off without even saying anything? Not one sound to complete First Words?
I refuse to consider that a rejection, and I absolutely refuse to just sit back and take it. Damnit, he’s my match and I deserve more than just a look. If he’s going to turn me down he can fucking do it to my face and tell me why. I can admit the timing sucks, but that’s no excuse to be rude.
He was dressed like the staff, so it shouldn’t be hard to track him down, but the little squirrel buried himself in the crowd faster than a blink and ten minutes later I’m still shaking off dancers with no sight of him. I do spot Trevor and Donovan by the bar, though, and that will help. Who knows what my idiot match is up to? Better to find him fast, and for that more eyes get better results.
“You are looking far too sober,” Trevor mutters, taking a long drag from his beer.
Donovan sits up instantly. He doesn’t drink unless he’s at home, and he hates to mingle. He only came to act as a buffer between me and drunk driving. “You weren’t this sober last I saw you. What happened?”
The bright lights strobe and make seeing their faces difficult for a moment. This wasn’t supposed to be a Matching Ball (with all the capital letters that implied) so I hadn’t bothered going with ‘safe, quiet, calm’. It was a party, not an even to climb the social ladder. “We need someplace private, fast,” I tell them while still scanning the crowds to find a familiar brown head. I’m thankfully taller than most of the people here, but not tall enough to easily spot who I’m looking for. The strobe stops and I see blue dresses and red shirts and brown hair, but not the right brown and not the black staff uniform.
Trevor did that thing that makes him look like a curious puppy, then said: “Locker room. Should be empty right now.”
I took a breath and followed them, grateful I’d thought to bring some support along. I hadn’t had much time for friends recently, so it had seemed like a good opportunity to try not to fuck up that part of my life.
“It’s empty,” Trevor said when Donovan checked the doors to make sure no one was on the other side. The room was pretty small with just enough room for cubbies with locks, a few chairs and tables, and a counter with a microwave. A duffel bag sat in the corner by a chair, abandoned.
“What’s up?” Donovan asked.
“So I may have been a little drunk-”
“A little?” Donovan asked. “You flirted with that girl from finance. She could be your mother.” He shuddered.
That was definitely not the point. “She handles the budget, of course I flirted with her. Focus. I bumped into someone and was a little flirty. And he had a mark on his wrist. My words.”
Trevor’s jaw dropped. “Your words? Holy hell, man - congrats!”
“Who is he? When do we get to meet him? What did he say?” Donovan asked, grinning and bouncing on his feet like some overexcited golden retriever.
I hated to quell their excitement because I wanted to be excited too. I wanted this to be a celebration. My words tasted like sour milk as I tried to explain. “That’s where I’m worried. He didn’t say anything, just took off like a bat outta hell.” I felt my nails digging into my palms and forced my hands to unclench. I looked at the dull gray of the lockers with bulky combination locks and tried to focus even though my feet itched to be out checking the floor one more time. “I need to find him, but we need to keep it quiet.”
“What - why?” Trevor asked, throwing his beer bottle into the trash.
I took a breath. “Remember Alyssa?”
Trevor snorted. “How could we forget?”
“She hacked Prince Enterprises before she left. Screwed with the software - not the matching, just the funds. We also think she’s the source of the leak which set the press into a frenzy about soulsickness and bad matches found through Balls. I’m afraid they’ll overwhelm him - or worse, freak him into rejecting me. You know I don’t have words.” That was only part of it, but it was the most noticeable part.
“No one would deliberately hurt him, would they?” Donovan asked. “I mean, it’s just the press. All bark, no bite.”
“The Digger might. He’s made threats.” It was a cold shiver down my spine and a hard weight on my shoulders. Worse, no one believed it.
“A myth at best,” Trevor countered. Just like everyone else. “A business boogeyman. It was probably Alyssa trying to scare you away from whatever she was doing.”
“I can’t chance that,” I told them. “Whether it’s really the digger or not doesn’t matter. Someone wrote the letters, and that someone is real. Please, the longer we debate the longer he’s out there being an idiot and disappearing. Don’t make me beg for help. Quiet help. If he gets hurt because he’s my match - I wouldn’t be able to stand it.” If I got to the point of crying my dignity would never survive. A too-thin wrist tensing beneath my fingers was not the only touch I wanted with my soulmate.
Trevor let out a breath. “I’m probably going to wake up tomorrow and find out this is a prank. Tyr Prince doesn’t beg. Just tell us who this match is and we’ll go find them.”
I breathed out a sigh of relief. Three sets of eyes were better than one, but we were wasting time. My match was still missing. “He’s dressed like one of the staff. I met him by the bar by the dance floor, right under the flashing ‘open late’ sign. Medium height, slight build, brown hair. The words are on his wrist. ‘Oh wow, you must be mine.’”
“Tyr, you fucker, what kind of words are those?” Trevor laughed. “God, that kid must have been traumatized when he saw those words.”
Tyr hoped not. “He wasn’t trying to hide them,” Tyr said. “He’s shy, and easily spooked I think.”
“No shit,” Donovan snorted. “I’ll start asking staff. Trev - you try around the building? Pretty sure Tyr will want to be on the floor again.”
Absolutely. I knew I could count on them.
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