I woke up sweating, stuck in a tangle of sheets but above all else...alone. This time, the very thought made me sick and I tripped out of bed in all my glory to go find Tate. If he had run off again, I would track him down. Hell or high water, he was mine. I looked down to discover my chest was clean of anything but hair and raised a brow. Upon peeking into the bathroom, I saw the small rag on the counter and one of my drawers half open. Hmm. Where was he?