Bad Taste (Part I) // Colby Brock

102 - Rebecca

Katrina came into my office right as evening came around. She looked a little off, as if something was wrong, but she didn't say anything as she sat down on my couch. I had put away the project when I heard her coming downstairs, hiding it in one of the lockable drawers of my desk. That was for me to know about, not her or anyone else.

Instead, I was working on the red pieces, which didn't actually need any more work at all. It was just a disguise. And since it was early evening anyway, I figured we'd be leaving in a minute.

When Katrina still didn't speak, I looked up. That wasn't like her and I was suddenly worried. The look on her face didn't calm me down at all: she was scared. She clutched her phone in her hand, the screen black with no sign of the matter. I wanted to ask but I knew if I did, I'd be admitting I cared.

She answered my unasked question anyway. "Sam and Colby went out for a job alone last night." She said quietly. Now I was definitely concerned. "Reggie woke up and he felt something was wrong. He woke everyone else up. Neither of them are at the house. It doesn't"—her voice cracked as her eyes watered—"it doesn't smell like they ever came back."

I fought through my worries. "They didn't come back. What's the big deal? I doubt there's anything wrong."

She stared at me for a long moment, the tear trying to fall out of her eye sticking in place. She looked torn. She wanted to believe me, but she clearly didn't. Her lip slid between her teeth and she fiddled with her fingers. "I don't know." She said.

"Have they ever not come back before?" I reasoned though I didn't know the answer to that question myself.

She shrugged. "A few times. But Sam calls first. He always calls."

I was putting on a brave face, a part of me hoping Colby would call too. "If they were busy, they wouldn't have time. You're overreacting—so is everyone else. Nothing is wrong." Deep down, I didn't agree with myself.

Katrina sucked in a breath and closed her eyes, the tear releasing. She quickly caught it as she gained control over herself. "You're right," she muttered, shaking her head, "I'm a part of the clan, I would feel if something was wrong. I don't." It was a lie—one she was telling to herself.

"Look, it's evening. I was going to go back to the house tonight anyway. Let's just fucking go—I have to stop at my apartment first." I hesitated. "Can you wait that long?"

"Yes." Lie.

"Okay then get your ass up and let's go." I threw the red line into the filing cabinet and stomped out of the office. Katrina was slow to follow, nervous about what she would find when we got to the house. I ignored that as I pulled my office door harshly shut and locked it, stomping now through the studio. Jax and Maggie were still here, but neither of them looked up as we passed them. I trusted Jax—not aloud, of course—to lock up.

We got in the car and Katrina was keeping composure the best she could. I knew her panic because deep down, I felt the same panic. But neither of us voiced it now. I drove to my apartment and flew into a parking spot just beside a silver car. I almost drove into it, but I managed to control the wheel in time. My body was reacting to something I didn't understand.

Katrina waited in the car. For some reason, I felt a little nervous about that, but I didn't question it as I rushed up to my apartment. The lights were all off, the dim afternoon leftover sun shining through my balcony doors as the only source of light. I made my way to my bedroom and got some more clothes just in case.

My nerves were simmering down now, like something had changed from when I'd walked in through the front door to when I left through it. I was sceptical about my feelings, glaring at random walls just because I could. When I got to the parking lot, I saw Katrina leaning against my car, the silver one gone. It made the whole lot seem so quiet.

She saw me and she squealed. I frowned at her from afar, wondering what had happened. Had something actually changed?

"Sam texted me!" She exclaimed before I even got close to her. "He's at the house! We have to go."

He, not they, I noted.

I tried not to think about it as I climbed back into my car and started the engine. Katrina was back in the passenger seat in a flash, ready to see her boyfriend after her unnecessary panic. It had to be unnecessary, if he was alive and okay. That meant Colby was the same—I had no reason to be worried anymore either.

It wasn't so simple as that, though, was it? Because Sam wasn't Colby, and Katrina didn't even mention my boyfriend. Neither had Sam. What if he wasn't okay? Why did it feel like I couldn't handle it if he wasn't? What if I'd lost him? Why was there a huge hole in my chest that felt like it could swallow me whole?

Because we got to the house and Colby wasn't there.