Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
“I don’t know.” I rub my face, trying to reason this out. “Call the guys. Have them start searching every motel and hotel anywhere near that guy’s house. Scour the fucking city. Everyone’s on high alert.”
“Understood.” Romano walks away and starts making calls.
What the hell was she thinking, going to the bookie like that? The poor fucking idiot thought she was working for me and gave her exactly what she needed, but that’s only going to put her in danger. Now, with that shit, she can try to confront Malcolm.
And Malcolm’s going to cut her damn throat and laugh in her face as she dies.
Why won’t she answer her phone?
“Something’s wrong,” I say to myself. I can’t shake this feeling. It’s an itch between my shoulders blades and it won’t leave me alone.
Jeanie’s clever and desperate and angry enough to do something very stupid, and I’m afraid she’s going to stumble into a trap and get herself killed. If she didn’t already.
And why do I care so much? Why does it feel like my chest is cracking open?
Maybe because I never should’ve sent her away.
I try calling the bookie again, thinking I can ask him which way she started walking when she left his place, but it rings and rings and goes to his answering machine. “Shit, now Jim’s not answering.”
“What do you want to do?” Romano’s glaring around at the mess and walks back over, his phone shoved back in his pocket. “The guys are all heading out.”
“Malcolm’s going to his club tonight.” I check my watch. It’s just after ten at night and he doesn’t normally show up until eleven. “Let’s head over and see what we can find out from one of his goons. If Jeanie’s unlucky enough to have run into one of them, we need to find out.”
“You think they’re involved?”
“I don’t know, but this doesn’t feel right. That bookie ignoring my call makes my damn skin crawl. Keep the guys searching.”
I walk to the doorway, but Romano hesitates. “You sure about this, boss? You sent the girl away for a reason. Maybe—”
I look back at him and he snaps his mouth shut.
“We’re finding her,” I say firmly. “We’re making sure she’s safe. Then we’ll drive her to the airport and put her on a damn plane ourselves. Understood?”
He only nods once and follows me outside.
The club pulses with excitement. I sit in a far corner, my back to the wall, sipping a drink. I’m exhausted from getting hammered earlier in the day, sleeping it off, only to end up running around the damn city all night. I think of my family back at the villa and Emilio with his .22 chasing after coyotes. Brave boys, but stupid.
I was brave and stupid once.
Hell, maybe I still am. Definitely the stupid part, at least.
Jeanie had her reasons for not telling me, and she did nothing but prove over and over again that she was loyal and on my side.
Why the hell am I still letting Sonia ruin me, even all these years later?
I could walk away from this nightmare. Confronting Malcolm or any of his guys won’t be good for the development deal, and Casso is desperate to make sure that gets done. I could go home, back to the big house, and spend time with the people that love me and that I care about most in this world. They’ve been there for me, even when I was at my lowest. They built a damn house to make me happy, and I’ve repaid them with nothing but misery over the years.
I could let this go. I could sign the deal.
Jeanie’s not my problem.
But I can’t bring myself to do it. I keep thinking about her, remembering her smell and taste, her smile and laugh, and wondering if I fucked up too much. If I ruined something good like Fynn and Karah said. If I overreacted and shot myself in the damn foot like I always do.
Romano’s scouting out around the perimeter. I catch his nod as he circles back around and he gestures at the bar across the room. I spot Malcolm standing with two pretty young girls on either arm, both of them fawning over everything he says. He must’ve just arrived in the last minute or two. Three of his goons hover nearby, and skulking in the shadows beyond them, sipping from a glass of wine and glaring at all the happy people, is Benedict. The only man in the world—aside from me, of course—who could possibly look grumpy in this place.
I gesture for Romano to follow my lead as I stand and leave my drink behind. I could finish it, but I need to be sharp right now.
I head into the crowd. Just another guy moving through the half gloom, shuffling past gyrating, laughing guys, screeching girls, groups forming, breaking apart, reforming, like a school of fish. Malcolm’s too busy trying to fuck those two ladies and Benedict’s too busy glaring at his boss to notice me come up from the side.