𝐌𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬

3 | Stop Messing With My Brain

TOM

"I'm just saying, if Y/N was perfectly fine, why would I have such a hard time finding her? I have one of our best guys trying to track her down and he can't find shit all. Don't you find that weird?" I said to Haz, swinging my golf club over my shoulder.

Sometimes, when Haz and I got bored, we would hit golf balls off the edge of the hill at his and Robyn's new house into the lake. Yeah, they have a fucking lake on their property. And no, we don't leave hundreds of golf balls in there - Haz hires a dude to get them out.

"I'm not saying it's not weird, it's just... Why do you still care? You broke up with her," Haz said swinging his driver and whistling at how far he had hit the ball.

"Yeah and I've regretted it every fucking day since. Seriously Haz, she's wiped herself off the internet... Don't you find it all just a bit suspicious? What if someone else did it to her?" I said facing Haz and fiddling with a strip of peeling leather on the golf club handle.

Haz used his club to pull a ball closer towards his feet, lining up another shot and completely butchering it. The ball went to the far left and rolled its way to a halt. I told him he was shit and he pretended to hit me with the club, stopping it inches away from my head.

"You know that we don't keep secrets from each other right? And that I can tell you everything?" Haz said picking up the empty golf ball basket next to him and sighing.

"Oh dude... You totally did sleep with someone in Italy before your wedding!" I said semi-excitedly.

"What? No, I already told you that Robyn and I both didn't use our hall passes... I'm talking about something else. And you can't get angry at me because I literally only knew as of this morning okay?" Haz pleaded as we got into his private golf cart to drive back to the house.

Once Haz and Robyn returned from their honeymoon, they bought a sprawling property that was gated from the public and at least half a dozen acres - he didn't have a golf course per se, but we used it as one anyway. Plus we had many a drunk nights on the golf cart.

"Y/N called Robyn last night," Haz said bluntly, driving us both up towards the house and avoiding eye contact with me.

"I thought Robyn didn't have her number?" I said in disbelief, is he fucking with me?

"She doesn't. Y/N just calls her off different phone numbers every month or so to check in. Every time Robyn tries to text the number back or call it again it just says it's been disconnected... She says she's working some government job where she can't disclose what it is," Haz shrugged.

"What else did she say? Is she still in the city? Is she seeing anyone? Fuck! We should have traced the call and found her location," I sighed frantically.

"Dude... I don't know okay? Robyn only told me this morning. All Y/N mentioned was that she was dreading going out tonight because she was going somewhere that was quote on quote, 'crawling with rich mafia men'.... I dunno man," Haz said pulling up at the back verandah and getting off the golf cart.

"The casino? I mean... The PlayHaus doesn't really cater for us, it's more the public... And the fight club downstairs is invite only which is I guess underneath the casino... Fuck! Is she going to the casino?! When?" I asked, again, too frantic for Haz's liking.

"Calm the fuck down dude, I don't know okay? Robyn just said it was tonight... We should call Sergei and get him to run security on Y/N's face though, we could track a number plate or credit card if she uses one," Haz suggested, walking inside and getting himself a beer from the fridge before offering me one.

"No, I need to go to the fucking Casino..." I mumbled, looking at my phone to check what time it was. I had enough time to go home, shower and drive there.

"Are you crazy?" He laughed.

"Yes... I just need to apologise to her, she needs to know I regret everything. Even if she never wants to see me again I just need her to know I'm sorry," I said running down the hall and grabbing my keys.

"Tell Robyn she's a legend and uh, send her my love!" I called out before slamming the front door behind me, getting into my car and speeding home.

Come on Tom, think about this logically. You're stalking an ex-girlfriend when she obviously doesn't want to be found. No. Fuck it, I just need to apologise. That's it, that's all I need right now. Then I can move on, once and for all.

There's one main road that heads in and out of the casino, if they see her, they can figure out which level of the car park she heads to, what her number plate is and then... fuck I don't know what's next. Maybe if I sit at the main road I can follow the car.

That's really fucking creepy. Is that creepy? Yeah, yeah it is. I can't just follow my ex-girlfriend home. Wait, okay maybe if I know where she lives then I can casually bump into her in her local area. Maybe at a bakery or a supermarket... Then I can apologise, get closure and move on. Perfect.

Fuck, I was just thinking that exact thing. Am I repeating myself? I need to stop taking adderall... This shit is making my brain move way too fast. It's messing up any hope of thinking logically.

Y/N can't see me like this. She'll think I'm back on the drugs and I'm a complete junkie again. Fuck. Okay, the adderall was ingested before golf... It doesn't last that long right? I just need to not take any more adderall. That's fine, that's easy. I can do that. That's easy.