Chapter 80 Mercedes

Chapter 80 Mercedes
Mercedes

⛸️

The last line of powder disappeared up my nose with a sharp, satisfying burn. 

My head snapped back against the leather passenger seat, a groan escaping my lips. 

The world was already starting to tilt and shimmer at the edges, the bass from the stereo thumping in time with my heart. 

I was still naked, the cool leather sticking to my skin, but I didn't care. Who the fuck cares?

Beside me, Akil was slumped in the driver's seat, his eyes half-closed, a lazy, self-satisfied smirk on his face.

He was already out of it, floating in that post-fuck, post-blow haze. 

He was a hot ass dealer, Luke's biggest rival on the ice, and the exact kind of trouble I should be staying away from. 

He was cocky, loved to talk back, and was such a fucking tease. Which is exactly why I was here.

I ran a hand over my face, trying to wipe away the fog, but it was useless. The coke was taking over, sharpening the edges of my thoughts until all that was left was a single, painful point: Luke.

It's been weeks now. Weeks since he ended it. For real this time. Not one of our usual stupid fights where we'd ignore each other for a few days and then fall back into bed. This was different. This was final.

And I'd been a mess ever since.

I'd tried calling. Texting. Nothing. Just silence. It was like he'd just... vanished. Then today, Mitch. Fucking Mitch, looking like a scared little rabbit, told me Luke was gone for all of fall break. "Out of town," he'd mumbled, not meeting my eyes. 

Out of town. 

With who? Where? The questions circled in my coke-fueled brain like sharks.

I turned my head, looking at Akil. His smirk was gone now, replaced by a slack-jawed bliss. This was supposed to make me feel better. Fucking his rival. Getting high out of my mind. It was supposed to be a big "fuck you" to Luke for leaving me. But all I felt was empty. The coke wasn't filling the hole; it was just making the edges of it sharper.

"Hey," I said, my voice sounding thin and reedy. I nudged his shoulder. "You awake?"

He stirred, blinking slowly. "Hmm? Yeah, babe. I'm here."

"You got any more?" I asked, my voice already whiny, desperate.

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that vibrated through the car seats. "Always for you, princess. But you gotta earn it."

I rolled my eyes, but a familiar heat was already starting to pool in my stomach. This was our dance. The teasing, the back and forth. It was a distraction. A temporary fix.

"Whatever," I said, reaching for my clothes on the floorboard. "Just drive."

He watched me dress, his eyes dark and hungry. "Where we goin'?"

"I don't know," I snapped, pulling my shirt over my head. "Away from here."

He laughed, a real laugh this time, as he finally put the car in drive. "You're a real piece of work, you know that?"

I didn't answer. I just stared out the window, watching the city lights blur into streaks of color. All I could think about was Luke. Where was he? What was he doing? Was he thinking about me at all? Or was he finally, truly free?

The thought was so painful it felt physical, like a knife twisting in my gut. I closed my eyes, leaning my head against the cool glass. I needed more. More coke, more sex, more anything to make the pain go away. 

Because Luke was gone. And I was pretty sure this time, he wasn't coming back.

⛸️

The water scalded my skin, but I barely felt it. I stood under the spray, letting it wash away the scent of Akil's cologne, the sticky residue of the coke, the grime of the city. 

It didn't work. The mess was on the inside. I scrubbed at my skin until it was raw, but the emptiness remained. 

Finally, I gave up, stepping out and wrapping myself in a towel. I pulled on an old t-shirt of Luke's that I'd stolen and a pair of sweatpants, the fabric smelling faintly of his laundry detergent, a ghost of a scent that made my chest ache.

I flopped onto my bed, face down, burying my head in the pillows. My phone buzzed on the nightstand, and I groaned, considering letting it go to voicemail. But it was Brianna. I rolled over and swiped to answer. "What?"

"Whoa, hello to you too," she said, her voice way too cheerful for the hour. "Just checking in. How are you holding up?"

"I'm still a mess," I said, my voice muffled by the pillow. "I just got back from Akil's."

A heavy sigh came through the phone. "Mercedes, no. That's not going to help."

"Well, what is, Bri?" I shot back, sitting up. "Luke doesn't wanna be with me anymore, okay? It's been weeks. I'm a little past 'healthy coping mechanisms' right now."

"I know, I know," she said, her tone softening. "Which is why I was wondering if you wanted to go on a road trip with me."

I blinked. "What road trip?"

"Fall break, hello? Luke's supposed to be out of town on some solo trip, right?"

"Yeah, so?"

"So," she said, a conspiratorial edge creeping into her voice, "what if we find where he's at?"

I let out a short, humorless laugh. "That's like impossible, Bri. He could be anywhere."

"No, it's not," she said, her voice quickening with excitement. "Okay, so this girl contacted me. She knows your breakup was public and gets around school and stuff. She has an English class with Luke, right? And she works at this fancy-ass restaurant. She said she ran into Luke there tonight."

My heart stopped. "What? He was there with someone?"

"Yeah," Brianna said. "That's the thing. He was there with some woman. And the girl said Luke looked... uncomfortable. So she, like, watched them the whole time. She said sometimes Luke would, like, flinch and stuff, even though he was smiling. I don't know, it sounds odd."

A cold knot formed in my stomach. "A woman? What woman would he be with? And why would his body language be acting uncomfortable while smiling?" My mind was racing, the cocaine-fueled paranoia sharpening into a single, focused point of suspicion. Something wasn't right about this. "My gut is always right," I said, more to myself than to her. "Something is wrong."

"Exactly!" Brianna said. "So, are you in?"

I didn't even have to think about it. The numbness was gone, replaced by a surge of adrenaline, of purpose. "Pick me up," I said, already swinging my legs off the bed. "Let's go."

"Awesome!" she squealed. "Should we also get Mitch?"

I paused for a second. Mitch. Luke's best friend. "Yeah," I said, a new plan forming in my mind. "Sure. Call him. Tell him we're going on a little trip."

⛸️

The cocaine buzz was starting to fade, leaving behind a gritty, jittery residue that settled uncomfortably under my skin. 

I managed to pull myself together enough to splash cold water on my face and change into something resembling a real outfit. 

By the time Brianna's little silver coupe pulled up to the curb, headlights cutting through the darkness, I was almost presentable. I slid into the passenger seat, the engine's hum a low thrum beneath us.

"You look... not great," Brianna said, her eyes scanning me critically as she pulled away from the curb.

"Thanks," I muttered, rubbing my temples. "I'm sobering up. Mostly."

"Good," she said. "Because this is going to require a clear head."

Our first stop was Mitch's house.

Brianna tapped the horn, and a moment later, Mitch shuffled out, looking like he'd been woken from a dead sleep. He was wearing a ratty t-shirt and pajama pants, his hair a mess. He yawned, climbing into the backseat and immediately slumping against the door.

"Seriously?" he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. "It's the middle of the night. Where are we even going?"

"To find Luke," I said, twisting in my seat to look at him.

Mitch blinked, then let out a short, incredulous laugh. "To find Luke? Mercedes, he's on a solo trip. He said he needed to get away and clear his head. This is stupid."

"He wasn't solo," Brianna chimed in, her eyes fixed on the road. "He was with some woman at a fancy restaurant."

Mitch frowned, sitting up a little straighter. "What? Who? Maybe it was just his mom or an aunt or something."

I shook my head, a familiar knot of certainty tightening in my gut. "No. The waitress said he looked uncomfortable. Flinching, even though he was smiling. That doesn't sound like a family dinner to me. My gut is always right about this stuff, Mitch. Something is wrong."

He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. "Yeah, whatever," he said, slumping back against the door. "This is still a terrible idea."

We fell into a tense silence as Brianna drove, the city lights blurring past the windows. The initial adrenaline that had propelled me out of bed was starting to wear off, replaced by a gnawing anxiety. 

What if we were wrong? What if this was just a wild goose chase? But then I'd remember the waitress's words, an image of Luke flinching, and the certainty would return.

"You know," Brianna said, breaking the silence. "He has been off lately. Right?"

Mitch and I both looked at her.

"Way off," I agreed, the words tumbling out of me. "He's been so... rude. The last few times we talked before he ended it, he was just... cold. He'd say these little things that were so hurtful, and then act like he didn't understand why I was upset."

Mitch nodded slowly, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Yeah. He had this anger, too. Like, a short fuse. He snapped at me after practice last week for something stupid. Just completely blew up out of nowhere. I've never seen him like that."

"He's been so stern," I added. "All the playfulness is gone. It's like he's this... controlled, angry version of the Luke I used to know."

"It's more than that," Mitch said, his voice low. "It's like he's... performing. Like he's trying so hard to act a certain way, to be this 'mature man' he thinks he's supposed to be, but it's not him."

The words sent a chill down my spine. "Performing," I repeated softly. "That makes so much sense. So you think... what? Something’s influencing him?"

"Has to be," Brianna said, taking a sharp turn. "People don't just change overnight like that. Especially not Luke. He was always so... easygoing. This is something else. This is external."

"Or maybe he's going through some personal family stuff," Mitch offered, though he didn't sound convinced. "Something with his parents, maybe? They put a ton of pressure on him with the hockey and school. Maybe it's all just getting to him and he doesn't know how to talk about it."

I considered that for a moment. The pressure was always there, but Luke had always handled it. He was the golden boy, the prodigy. This felt different. Darker. More deliberate.

"Maybe," I said, my voice firm. "But my money's on something else influencing him."

We all fell silent again, the weight of our shared theory settling in the car. The idea of Luke being uncomfortable or at risk of being hurt in anyway, was more terrifying than the thought of him just breaking up with me. It meant he was in trouble, and he didn't even know it.

"So what's the plan?" Mitch asked, leaning forward between the front seats. "We don't even know where to start looking."

"The fancy restaurant," I said, my mind racing. "Luke's parents are rich, but he wouldn't go to some stuffy place on his own. He hates that kind of thing. The woman must have picked it. So we need to think... who would he be with? Where would they go?"

"Someone obviously with enough money to be at that type of restaurant," Brianna said, her eyes narrowed in concentration. 

The image of Luke with an older woman, some rich, controlling stranger, made my stomach turn. But it fit. It fit all too well.

"Okay," I said, my voice shaking with a mixture of fear and determination. "So we find the restaurant. And then we find the waitress. Whatever it is, whatever's going on, we're gonna figure it out. We're gonna get our Luke back."

Brianna nodded, her jaw set with determination. Mitch, for the first time all night, looked like he was actually on board. We were a motley crew—a heartbroken ex-girlfriend, a loyal best friend, and a ride-or-die sidekick—driving through the night in search of a ghost. But as we sped down the empty highway, I felt a surge of hope. We were going to find him. We had to.