Vincent pov
Two fucking weeks.
Fourteen damn days.
Three hundred and thirty-six excruciating hours.
While mountains could be moved in that time, I haven't been able to close my eyes for more than two minutes. Every time my body gives out and I pass out, I see her leaving. Over and over again. Though I haven't found her, I haven't caught a whiff of her scent- I've done enough to make every person in my pack avoid me. The night I found out Enya was gone, I trashed the entire living room in front of Angela and her family. The only positive thing about that shit is that they left. They left me alone and won't come back until I calm down. Needless to say, I have no intention of calming down anytime soon. Unless she comes back.
I grip the glass in my hand and bring it to my lips. The liquid no longer burns my throat; I'm used to drinking it every day, but I can't forget anything no matter how much I drink.