Chapter 92 92

Chapter 92 92
Harmony's POV

The odd November sun of the next day did nothing to take the chill out of the air as I stood huddled under the awning of a boarded-up laundromat across the street from Sasha’s apartment building. My fingers were shoved deep into the pockets of my jacket, my eyes locked on the front entrance of her apartment building.

Quinn was stuck in one of her morning classes back on campus, leaving me to pull the first watch alone. Every time a passerby walked down the sidewalk or a truck rumbled past the curb, my heart gave a frantic little jump, hoping it would be Sasha returning. But it never was. The street remained mostly quiet.

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, checking the digital clock on my phone screen. I had been standing there for nearly two hours, watching the occasional tenant hurry out the door to catch the early bus, but there was no sign of the varsity tennis player. The silence of the neighborhood was starting to wear on my nerves, when a sudden movement near the side of the building caught my eye.

I leaned forward, stepping out from beneath the awning to get a clearer view. Someone was emerging from the narrow, trash-filled side alley that led toward the back fire escapes of the complex, but it wasn't Sasha. It was a man, his shoulders hitched up high as he navigated the uneven gravel path, looking frantically to the left and right as if he expected a security guard to tackle him to the ground.

He was carrying something large and awkward in both arms: a bulky, stainless-steel microwave with a tangled black power cord trailing along the dirt behind him.

My breath caught in my throat as he stepped fully onto the concrete sidewalk under the dull morning light. It was my brother.

BENJI?!

I was frozen for a fraction of a second, my brain refusing to process the image of my own brother sneaking out of the side alley of the missing girl's building, looking like a common thief. His jacket was unzipped and his auburn hair was a messy nest.

I'd assumed that Benji had skipped town after bullying five hundred dollars out of me. I hadn't spoken to him since we met at that alleyway, hadn't seen him close-up in well over a year, but I would recognize that face anywhere.

Then a sickening realization bloomed in my stomach. He hadn't just been passing through the neighborhood, he had been inside that apartment, he had just come from the side of her building where her back door was.

He was stealing from Sasha!

"Benji!" I yelled and bolted across the asphalt street, ignoring the honk of a passing delivery van.

Benji whipped his head around at the sound of his name. Then his eyes went wide with panic when he spotted me sprinting toward him. He didn't drop the microwave. Instead, he held it tighter against his ribs and immediately turned around on his heel, accelerating into a fast, awkward stride down the sidewalk away from me.

"Benji, stop right now!" I screamed. "Don't you dare walk away from me."

I caught up to him within half a block, grabbing his jacket sleeve and yanking him backward. The sudden pull caused him to stumble, the microwave tilting dangerously in his arms before he managed to brace his boots against the concrete and steady the weight.

"What the hell?" Benji barked, spinning around to face me. He ripped his sleeve out of my grip, glaring at me with fury. "Get your hands off me! Are you insane? What are you doing following me on the street?"

"What am I doing?" I echoed and pointed a finger straight at the stainless-steel appliance in his arms. "What are YOU doing, Benji? You just sneaked out of the back of that apartment building, and you're holding a microwave in your hands. Whose apartment were you just in?"

"None of your business," he snapped, turning his back on me and continuing his hurried walk down the sidewalk. "Go back to your campus bubble and leave me alone. I have things to handle."

But I marched right alongside him, keeping pace with his frantic strides. "It is my business. That building belongs to a girl from the university, a girl named Sasha Millman. She vanished a week ago, and now I find my brother sneaking out of her back door with her kitchen appliances? Did you rob her?"

Benji did not look at me, but I was sure I had seen his face go dark at the mention of Sasha. "Sasha who? I don't know any damn Sasha. I don't care about your little college friends or whatever drama you're dealing with. Some guy owed me a debt and he told me I could clear the tab by grabbing some electronics from the unit, and that's exactly what I'm doing. Now, fuck off."

"You're lying." I insisted, stepping directly in front of him and forcing him to halt. "You're a liar, Benji! Look, I hate that I have to deal with you right now, but this is way more important than what you think. Sasha did something... she was involved in something big, and if you had anything to do with her disappearance—"

"I don't know who the hell you're talking about!" Benji roared, causing a pedestrian across the road to stop and stare at us. "I don't know her, and I don't care about her."

"Then why are you stealing a microwave from her apartment?" I demanded. "Benji, tell me the truth. Who are you working for? Did someone send you to clean out her place?"

"Just blow off, Harmony." He retorted. Then he shoved past my shoulder, using the bulk of the microwave to force me out of his path. "Stop acting like you're my mother. You don't know anything about my life, not like you've ever cared anyway. Go back to your nursing books and leave the street business to me before you get yourself into something you can't handle."

"Benji, please!" I pleaded, turning around to follow him as he neared the corner of the block. "If you know where she is, you have to tell me. She's in real danger."

"And I said I don't know anything!" He yelled back over his shoulder. "And even if I did, I wouldn't tell you. Stop following me!"

Before I could reach out to grab his jacket again, a battered black car that had been idling near the hydrant at the corner pulled up to the curb with a screech of its tires. The seedy-looking driver opened the passenger door from the inside. Benji didn't hesitate for a single second. He hurried forward, threw the microwave onto the floorboards of the passenger side, and jumped into the waiting car, slamming the door shut behind him.

The engine roared to life and ran a yellow light before turning sharply onto the main highway and disappearing from view.

It had all happened so fast that I almost thought I imagined it. My hands were shaking violently again, but not from the cold this time.

Making a split-second decision, I reached into my pocket, pulling out my phone with trembling fingers. I tapped into my contacts list, scrolling down through the dozen different obscure numbers that Benji had used to contact me over the past year.

I pressed the first one, and an automated recording filled my ear: THE NUMBER YOU HAVE DIALED IS NO LONGER IN SERVICE.

I disconnected and dialed the next one. THE CUSTOMER YOU ARE TRYING TO REACH IS TEMPORARILY UNAVAILABLE.

I tried a third number, then a fourth and a fifth, my heart jumping with every failed attempt. Benji knew something about Sasha, I knew it. But none of his lines went through. Every single line was dead, leaving me cut off from the only person who might have the answers to what was happening to Sasha.

I dropped the phone to my side, staring blankly at the grey brick facade of the apartment building down the block. What even was happening?