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hand, shooting me a wink, and opens the bathroom door slipping in. I turn my back to the door, not wanting to see anything inside that room. The thought alone is turning the pasta I had for dinner over in my stomach.

Shaun is back a minute later empty-handed. “There’s nothing in there, Lex.” He looks confused, his steel-grey eyes latching onto mine.

Looking away, I walk off towards Mike’s room and look in through the splintered door frame. Nothing has changed from Friday when I trashed it, so I go to the last place left to look. The garage. It’s a waste of time. My t-shirts aren’t in there either, so I go back inside.

“I don’t understand.” I plonk down on the couch next to Shaun, taking in his Latino features. He’s undoubtedly attractive, which helps his Casanova complex; with hair as rich as a black coffee, tanned skin, full lips and a sharp jawline, he is the boy all the girl's dream of snagging. Well, all except me. My heart belongs to Ayden.

There goes my heart again.

Ayden, I miss you!

“When did you last see them?” Shaun asks, snapping me out of my Ayden daydream and reminding me that my t-shirts are missing.

“I’m certain that I hung my Three Days Grace t-shirt over the towel rail in my mum’s bathroom this morning. And the same with my Metallica t-shirt the morning before. But they aren’t there when I go to look for them each night. I don’t know what the fuck is going on.”

Shaun is quiet for a few minutes, his white teeth biting into his lip as he mulls over something, and then asks me to stay put while he does his own search. He doesn’t do a man’s look either. I hear him going through every room, every cupboard and drawer looking for my t-shirts. Fifteen minutes later, he is back with me on the couch, and I know without a doubt that I’m not imagining things. My stuff has gone missing.

“Has anything else gone missing?” Shaun asks, glancing around the living room.

I frown, “Ah, yeah—the pictures off the fridge. I noticed them gone a couple of days ago. They were of my mum and me.”

Taking my jittery hands in one of his, Shaun looks concerned before releasing my hand again and pulling his phone out of his pocket.

“I’m just gonna pop into the garage and make a quick call. Will you be okay here?”

I frown but nod, unsure why he needs to go to the garage to make the call. A few minutes later, as he’s walking back in, I get a private message on my phone from Marcus.

Marcus Grady

If you need me or any of us to come and stay with you and Shaun, we will be there in a heartbeat.

“Which one sent you a message?” Shaun asks, and I hold up my phone so he can see. Shaking his head, he sits back down with me on the couch, “I told them not to message you. He’s fucking hopeless.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“Nothing Lex. I just thought I’d check with them to see if any of the guys took your stuff as a joke.”

“And?” I already know the answer.

“They didn’t.”

I must look worried because Shaun pulls me to his chest for a hug.

“It’s okay Lex. We have your back. Everything is okay.” I’m not sure if he’s trying to convince me or himself.

“It’s not really, but I appreciate you trying to make me feel better.” My words make him smile.

“You know what you need?” Shaun looks devious. I should probably be scared.

“I’m almost afraid to ask.”

He laughs, “Well honey, any time you want some of this,” he gestures to himself, “Then just say the word, and I’ll make you forget your own name. But for now, let’s watch The Office.”

So that’s what we do. Huddling up in the blankets on the floor, we watch back-to-back episodes of The Office until I fall asleep next to him on the same makeshift bed Simon had made the night before.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I don’t sleep well. My mind goes to dark places in my sleep, and I end up in the garage by 4am beating the shit out of the bag. Shaun checks on me at one point but leaves me to my inner rage to get his own sleep.

By 6am, I send Valarie a message asking if her mum has been in my house to do any of my washing. By 7am, she replies with a “no” and wants to know if everything is okay. I don’t want to worry her, so I tell her everything is fine and leave it at that.

I deliberately leave my Slipknot t-shirt over the end of my mum's bed when I dress for school, taking a picture of exactly where I leave it. I’ve got no idea what’s going on, but I know I’m not going crazy. My t-shirts, and possibly the pictures off the fridge have gone missing. The only way that can happen is if someone has taken them. My boys haven’t taken the items, in this, I am sure. But someone has.

Shaun’s brother picks us up and drops us out the front of the school, where the other boys are waiting for us. When we approach, I get hugs from each of them, feeling a little overwhelmed at their unconditional support. It’s nice to feel their arms around me. The only problem is the only person’s arms I want to feel around me isn’t here. He hasn’t even responded to my drunk text, even though I know he’s read it after seeing the response bubbles the other day. In all fairness, I don’t blame him. It was a stupid text. But I said that I was sorry too, so surely that should mean something, right?

My exhaustion has me in a sour mood, and I don’t talk much to the boys or anyone else for that matter. They respect my need to be quiet, but I can

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