NAT'S POV

I come awake with a sound of pure torment as my frantic gaze darts around the room, but I still see the blood and the bodies. I wish I could say it was all a dream, but I can't. It was a memory.

I press shaking hands against my closed eyelids, bringing to mind Alex's smile and my dads laugh until my heart begins to slow.

"It was worth it. It was worth it" I chant to myself, and despite the cold sweat prickling my skin I believe it.

With a deep, harried breath I once again attempt to take in my surroundings. My blankets are on the floor where I kicked them sometime during the night, making me shiver despite the sunlight spilling into the room. My fitted sheet has come off the mattress and is curled around me, visibly covered in sweat.

A loud buzzing pierces the silence, making me jump.

That must have been what woke me.

I squint at the clock on my bedside table, blinking in surprise. I slept in. I must have been more tired than I thought, because I never sleep in. I'm relieved that I slept at all. I had the irrational fear that I wouldn't sleep until I found him.

My brain finally registers the buzzing as the doorbell when the sound comes again.

I swing my legs over the side of the bed, skirting the fallen blankets as my feet touch the cold ass floor.

I open the door to a pissed off Sam, holding two cups of coffee.

"Hey sweetie. Is that for me?" I try to greet lightly, but my voice is hoarse and it cracks halfway through, meaning I probably wasn't just screaming in the "dream". I was actually screaming. The thought is confirmed when my dry throat makes me swallow and I wince in pain from the rawness.

"It was, but i'm thinking of dumping it down the drain."

I mock gasp in horror, making her lips twitch.

"You were supposed to text me last night. You worried me" she admits quietly, dropping the act.

"I know, i'm sorry. I came home, drank a glass of wine, made a few phone calls and passed out. I hadn't slept the night before, and I just crashed" I apologize as I lead her into the kitchen and sit at the counter, motioning her into the chair next to mine.

Satisfied with my answer, she hands me my coffee, apparently deeming I deserve it.

I wrap both hands around the styrofoam cup, taking a sip of the hot, strong liquid with a small sigh of appreciation.

"So, I take it you didn't find either man" she muses, not beating around the bush.

I smile at her bluntness. Most people are put off by it, but I adore it. It's one of my favorite things about Sam. 'Maybe that's why the secrets Alex hides bother me so much' I ponder, but almost immediately I admit to myself that that isn't true. It bothers me because I know they cause him pain, and for some reason i'd walk through hell to ease that pain. Plus, i'm not one to judge people with painful secrets. Would he walk through hell to ease my pain? Despite everything and the way he left something tells me he would.

"Not yet, but I have leads" I assure, though I leave out the part where I don't have alot of leads or especially great ones. I've found people from less.

"Tell me everything" she requests, sipping from her half-caff french vanilla frappuccino. Yet another reason I love Sam. She always wants to know everything about the things going on with me. She doesn't ask because she feels she has to. If she doesn't want to know about something, she won't ask. But she genuinely cares about the things I do, and that means a lot to me.

Her normally expressive features bounce between emotions as I tell her everything, and she flat out bursts into laughter when I tell her that I felt guilty that mr Douglas and Lindsay were nice and genuinely sorry about the 'mistake' on his schedule, so I ended up buying thousand of dollars worth of art supplies and promising to try and help him save his company.

"What were the calls you made last night?"

"I took the next empty spot in the art class. It's not until tomorrow. I had to pay fifty dollars-" a cheshire, shit eating grin splits her lips as a teasing glint lights her green eyes. "-Then I set up a meeting with the catering company, but I have not and I refuse to buy anything" I grumble defiantly, but she doesn't miss the chuckle that escapes me at my own expense.

Twenty minutes of mindless, much needed conversation later, I glance at my watch, sighing.

"Sorry babe, but I need to get going. The meeting with the catering company is at noon. I'm going to be late" I apologize, rising to my feet, heading to my room to get dressed.

"We'll take my car" she decides, not missing a beat.

"I-" I cut myself off before I can vocalize the protest on the tip of my tongue. Let her come. She brightens my day and makes it feel less like i'm slowly suffocating.

The location the woman gave me is a large banquet hall backed up to an empty field, currently being filled with large, circular tables with white table cloths, placed exactly the same distance apart. A few dozen people are scrambling around, putting flowers and glasses on the tables, covering the chairs in matching cloths, folding napkins into ridiculous shapes. The atmosphere is nervous and rushed. It's an air that says they've been payed an insane amount to do way too much in too little time. By assholes. Assholes who don't accept even the slightest mistake.

Fun.

We ask around until we find Evelyn, the woman I was told i'd be meeting, though we don't make our presence known quite yet. She's tall and thin, dressed in a tailored gray pant suit with a white button up and grey heels. Her brown hair is perfectly styled in tight curls, and not a single hair is out of place. Her jewelry is simple. Diamond studs in her ears, a small pearl necklace and a matching bracelet on her wrist. Her long, manicured nails are french tipped and her makeup is subtle and without flaw.

"So?" Sam asks, knowing I have observations that might be helpful on how we play this.

"She seems nice enough, but that only extends so far. I don't think chances are good she's going to give me the list. She's not going to believe any excuse I give to her for wanting it. She's too.. neat. Tidy. Too committed to her job. She's overwhelmed, and the second I say the wrong thing the nice facade is going to fall and this lead is dead" I answer truthfully, watching as Evelyn calls a waiter over and says something to him, pointing to a table to the right.

He jogs over, rotating the silverware a half inch to the left. Half. An. Inch.

"Who is she?" Sam asks, giving her a squinty once over.

"The catering company she works for is a national franchise with buildings all over the country, but each building is independently owned. The owner runs the business on site, but needs someone on the ground, representing the company. That's Evelyn."

We finally cross to Evelyn, but she doesn't sense us until we're standing in front of her.

She gasps as a hand flies to her heart in alarm. No wedding ring. No surprise there, she's married to her work.

"I'm sorry we scared you, we didn't realize you were so invested in that" I remark lightly as I gesture to the clipboard in her hand, lining up my plan B.

She laughs at herself, leading us to one of the tables that hasn't been set up yet.

"We're catering a wedding for a stock broker and a lawyer. I'm sorry we had to meet here, but they're demanding, and I have to be on site just in case anything goes wrong. These are really big clients for us" she explains, almost hiding her frustration with the couple. Almost.

"The wedding is today?" I ask curiously.

"Yep. In there. It starts in about an hour and a half" she confirms, pointing behind her to the banquet hall.

Bingo! Plan B in place. Let's try plan A first though.

"We would like preliminary rates on a wedding." I start, getting to the point.

She nods, all business, flipping to a new sheet on her clipboard.

"Is it yours?" She asks me.

"Yes."

"How large?"

"About three hundred people." I figure the more money I make it look like i'll be giving her, the better mood she'll be in.

Her eyes lighten in what can only be described as pure, unadulterated greed, though she hides it well. The only other sign it effects her is the slight tremor in her hand and the hesitation in her movements, like she's already mentally spending the money.

"And what would you like to serve?" She asks, not doing a great job at disguising the way her voice shakes.

"Steak."

She practically salivates at the thought of the payout for three hundred steaks.

"Any..thing else?" She nearly breathes.

"Something to go with the steak, a side or something. Champagne with fresh strawberries in the glasses. The cake obviously. Four tier. Can you guys do the cake?"

"Yea- yea of course" she stutters.

I fake a huge grin, making a show of grabbing Sam's hand, squeezing it enthusiastically.

"Great! That's great! Do you have an estimate?" I ask, already knowing that it will make me cringe and reaffirm my decision to get married with the bare essentials when the time comes. The man I love, a dress I find cheap, my best friend, a beautiful location, a pastor, fast food, champagne and sexy lingerie I won't wear long. That's all I need.

She writes some things down, furrowing her eyebrows in thought. After a few minutes of hard contemplation, she writes something on the bottom of the page, removing the paper from the clipboard.

"This is a rough estimate" she reminds me.

I nod indulgently, taking the paper.

Sam glances over my shoulder, looking at the number as I do. I show no reaction, and I know she's trying not to either, but she can't hide her sharp inhale.

"This is an extremely fair price" I tell Evelyn, barely holding in my laughter at the boldfaced lie. "Especially for how good your food is" I continue to praise. "I had it just the other night. You guys catered an art opening I went to. The food was delicious. Any chance I can get the names of the people who catered that? They were all so polite we were hoping they would cater my wedding" I request lightly, watching her like a hawk, so I don't miss it. The second she shuts down and her expressions become sheltered. It was a subtle change that anyone else would have missed, but I didn't.

Shit.

"I can't give out employees names, but I can assign them to your wedding" she offers with a tight smile.

Not. Good. Enough.

"But I just want to thank them" I prod.

"I'm sorry, but I cannot release that information" she repeats coldly.

"Listen here lad-" Sam starts, rising to her feet, but I stop her with a light hand on her wrist, and something about the look on my face has her sitting back down.

Time for plan B.

I stand, bracing my palms on the table in front of Evelyn, leaning into her, getting right in her face.

She starts to back away but to her credit stops herself, holding her ground, shivering when our eyes meet, unable to look away, but wanting to. That's how it is with darkness. It's enthralling until it consumes you. Every instinct in your body tells you to run, but they almost never do.

"You will give me those names or I'll find that rich bride and tell her I got food poisoning from your food. You'll lose them as clients and be out the money for the whole wedding because he's a lawyer and would kick your ass if you tried to take him to court. Woman like her talk. Especially when they're unhappy. She'll tell all her rich friends how you almost poisoned her and your business goes down in an instant. It's your choice" I counter darkly, and even I hear the way my voice vibrates pure promise.

She blanches as all the color drains from her face, making her subtle makeup look harsh on her pale skin. Her hands visibly tremble as she searches through her clipboard, ripping out a page, shoving it at me before stumbling away, looking like she's about to puke.

Guilt gnaws at my gut, but I know I never would have actually followed through on my threat, and I genuinely did not like that woman. She's so goddamn uptight she's going to break something. Maybe I'll send her a gift card for the... toy store a block away from my apartment.

"Damn girl, that was badass" Sam whistles, slightly breathless with.. awe?

"It's him" I mutter without thinking as we make our way back to the car.

I need to find him. At any cost.