Tattler || 5sos

Eighteen

            ~Ashton~

            Emery fell asleep only reluctantly. I wait patiently until I'm sure I won't disturb her before I carefully leave the bed and walk out onto the terrace. The city is abuzz below me, yet everything somehow feels quiet. Being on the terrace after the past couple of incidents doesn't make me wary, it just makes me more daring. I brace my hands on the railing and look down over the street below before pulling out my phone and dialing Luke's number, which was now my top contact.

            "Hello," a drowsy voice answers on the other end, definitely Luke. I pull my phone away and look at the time, I had no idea how late it was.

            "Hey, Luke, it's Ashton."

            Luke clears his throat. "What's up?"

            I tell him what happened today, while he listens intently on the other side. "How's Emery dealing with all this?" he asks as soon as I finish. I turn and glance back at the cracked doorway, where I can just barely see her curled under the sheets. A sharp, chilly breeze cuts through my bare upper half, but I want to finish this conversation.

            "I wish I could tell," I sigh. The truth is, Emery is still having trouble opening up to someone again, even if it's me. I wish things could be as easy as high school once was, as life once was.

            "Well, I'm sorry to say that shit's been happening to me lately too," Luke groans, and I hear him take a gulp of something. Scotch sounds nice right now, but I doubt Emery has any in the apartment.

            "Like what?"

            "For starters, when I got home yesterday afternoon there was a letter in my mailbox that claimed that Calum and Britt have been helping each other through the guilt, and a video to prove it."

            "Like-"

            "Exactly like yours, yes. Except I highly doubt your video was made to hurt Michael the way this video was made to hurt me," Luke takes another gulp of whatever he's having, and I feel sorry for him. "And if that's not enough, today one of the kids I was tutoring asked me who Tara Oakes was. When I asked him where he'd heard that name he said some guy on the subway told him to ask me about her."

            "Damn," I ran my fingers through my hair again, becoming more and more nervous. Whoever this is isn't messing around.

            "Tell me about it, This is the first time I've slept with my bedroom door closed and locked with my blinds shut since I was in high school."

            My eyes hover slowly over each window, trying to spot a camera in any of them. "This is getting worse and worse…"

            "I wish we could find Ivy," Luke sighs and takes another sip. "No, you know what, I'll find her. It can't be that hard. Tell Em I'll be looking for her."

            I am just about to reply when another call comes in on my phone. "Hold on, I've got an incoming call."

            "No problem," Luke says as I pull the phone away from my ear. It's Michael. My eyebrows knit together as I hit answer.

            "Michael?"

            "Ashton, dude, please fucking tell me Emery is there with you," Michael's voice is panicked.

            I turn to face the terrace door. "Of course she-"

            The bed's empty.

            Fear floods through me, and I dash back into the bedroom. It's completely empty, the sheets hardly wrinkled from where Emery was sleeping. The white curtains float through the room from the open doorway. I can barely hear Michael's voice in the phone.

            "Em!" I run down the hall and into the kitchen, the living room, the bathroom. "Emery!"

            I throw open every closet, I look under the bed, I look in the shower.

            She isn't here.

            I put the phone back to my ear. "Where the hell is she?!" I yell.

            "Shit. Shit, shit, shit, she isn't there, is she?" Michael's voice is quaking.

            "I swear to God, Michael, what the hell is going on!" I'm frozen in the middle of the living room and kitchen, wanting to fall through the floor, to wake up.

            "I got a text, it- it was a picture of Emery in the backseat of a car with a gash on her head. I called you once I got it."

            I wasn't outside for long. I didn't leave her alone for long. She was asleep, she was safe.

            "I'm on my way right now, I'm getting into my car, holy shit."

            Michael's line went dead, and Luke reconnected. My legs were frozen, just now noticing the open door, swinging slightly on the hinges.

            "Ashton?"

            I swallowed down the lump in my throat. "She's gone."

             "What?"

            My knees give out, and I fall to them, still staring at the open doorway.

            "Emery. She's gone."

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