“Before she went missing had you ever been to the club?” I knew the answer to that, too, yet for some reason, I needed to hear her say it.

“No. She knew it wasn’t my scene, so she didn’t bother inviting me.”

That was an understatement. Looking back at all the times I’d watched Sloane while she worked, the careful way she’d masked her revulsion, I was impressed she’d been able to pull it off for as long as she had. Though the members were there to enjoy themselves and each other I doubted many people actually paid attention to Sloane. Come to think of it, not once had I seen her in a friendly conversation with a member—male or female. I’d never seen her smile, laugh, or joke with a coworker. She was pleasant and professional, but standoffish.

Was that a front, too? Were there more of Elise’s friends working in the club and in an effort not to get caught they avoided each other at work?

“What about your friends?” I asked.

“Friends?”

“Did you enlist any of them to work at the club, too?”

She huffed a humorless laugh and sat back.

“No. And when I wouldn’t give up looking for Elise our friends stopped calling me.”

What the fuck?

“They stopped calling?”

“Yep. At first, everyone was on board to help. They all took to social media, posting pictures of Elise and asking for help finding her. We decided to go old school and made flyers. They helped staple them to telephone poles, in grocery stores, and dropped them off at bars and restaurants. But then days turned into months, and they said I should get back to my life and leave it to the police. They started calling less and less until finally they just stopped.”

I couldn’t stop the disgust from bubbling to the surface.

What bitches!

“They abandoned you?” I spat.

“Not really,” she started to defend her shitty friends. “In the beginning, they tried to help. And I don’t blame them for backing away. I was working two jobs and when I wasn’t working, I was calling the police to see if they’d found something new. And when I wasn’t doing that, I was driving around hoping to see her on the street. They warned me I was becoming obsessed. When one of them called all I talked about was Elise. I refused every invitation to go out with them. So they stopped calling. I don’t blame them for that either.”

Sloane might not blame them but I sure as fuck did. Who the hell abandons a friend? Where the fuck were these bitches’ loyalty? Not only to Sloane but to Elise. One of their own was missing and they’d given up finding her after about a month? I would stop at nothing if Wilson, Cole, Rhode, Jack, Davis, Reese, or River went missing. My pursuit would be relentless and unending until I found them, and I knew down to my bones they’d never give up on me either. Same with Letty, Brooklyn, and Sadie—if one of the three of them went missing there’d be no stopping the other two. They’d never abandon each other.