Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 126003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
“Are you OK?” She has stopped and turned back to look at me.
Am I OK?
I look over my shoulder and see my nine ghosts. Just standing there in chronological order with their dead eyes and dirty, tear-stained faces.
It’s a laughable question. But before I manage to bark that laugh out, the oldest boy—the one I killed last—he walks over to the woman in white. And one by one, all the others follow him.
“Ready?” she asks. Then she just turns and starts walking away. Not waiting for an answer.
And each one of my ghosts steps in line behind her. Like they’re gonna leave me. So what else can I do? I step in line too, trailing bloody footprints behind me.
CHAPTER 28
A buzzing phone wakes me. I have to squint and paw for it on the bedside table because the sun is shining right in my fuckin’ eyes. I turn away, look at the screen—unknown number—and tap ‘accept.’ “Yeah.”
“Is this Eason?”
It’s a woman’s voice. “Yeah. Who’s this?”
“Macks.”
I sit up. “Oh. Fuck. Sorry. What time is it?”
“Almost eleven. Were you sleeping?”
Eleven? Fuck’s sake. Why didn’t Irina wake me up? “Yeah. It’s been a…” I sigh. “Forget it. What’s up? You guys are here?”
“We are. Can we come by? Is that OK with Irina?”
I look around. No Irina. “Hold on, let me find her.”
I tap the ‘mute’ button and get up, a sudden pain in my left foot making me wince. “Irina.” I say her name as I walk out into the living room. But she’s not there. “Irina?” I call up the stairs. “Are you up there?”
She’s not. I can tell. The silence in here is screaming ‘no one home.’
“Shit.” I unmute the call. “She’s stepped out. Can I call you back?”
“Can you give us the address? So we can head over?”
I don’t want them coming without telling Irina first, but there’s no real reason to tell her no. “Yeah. Sure. I’ll text it. The doorman will call me when you get here.”
“Good. We’ll see you soon.”
The call ends, I send the text, and then I set my phone down on the kitchen counter, trying to get my head together after waking up confused.
Where did she go? To her condo to pick something up? To get coffee for us?
I grab my phone and call her. But her phone rings in my bedroom.
She didn’t take her phone. What the fuck, Irina?
Did she run? Because of Maart? Because of me?
What the hell is going on? And when did she leave? How long has she been gone?
I go back into the bedroom, pull on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, slip my feet into some trainers, and leave, taking the elevator down.
When the doors open, I walk to the doorman. “Did you see my guest leave? Small, blonde, looks like she can take you.”
The doorman smiles. “Irina.”
“Yeah, her.” I smile too. It was a pretty good description.
“No. I haven’t seen her.”
“What time did you come on shift?”
“Four-thirty. So I’ve been here all morning. But if you want, I can call the other doormen and see if they’ve seen her.”
“Yeah. Sure.”
I pace the lobby as he makes his calls. But after each one, he shakes his head at me.
“OK. If she comes back, can you call me?”
“Sure, Mr. Malone. I’ll let you know.”
“Thanks.” I head out at a run and go up Ocean towards 6th Street. When I get to her condo, I jump the gate and press all the right numbers for her digital door lock. But as soon as I open the door, I know she’s not in there.
I go inside anyway, checking. Trying to figure out if she came here and then left.
But it all looks the same, just like the last time I was here. Nothing seems out of place. No dishes or signs of life. In fact, the place is stuffy and a little bit warm, like the AC hasn’t been kicking on. When I check it, I realize there’s a little motion detector on it. So it cycles on only if someone’s home.
She wasn’t here.
I leave and since the restaurant is only a couple blocks away, I go there next.
It’s busy. Nearly lunchtime now. But right away I see Estefania at the hostess station. She shoots me a dirty look. I hold up a finger, asking for a minute of her time.
She makes a face, excuses herself from a customer, and comes outside. “Well, well, well. I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting to see your face around here again.”
“Have you seen Irina?”
Immediately her expression changes from contempt to concern. “What? No. She hasn’t been by. Is she missing?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“What do you mean you don’t know? Either you know where she is, or you don’t.”
I let out a breath. “I don’t. I woke up and she was gone. She’s not at her condo, so I came here hoping…”