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“I can’t fucking give you that information. You know that,” he said.
“Listen, I was on a video chat with her, and a bunch of fucking gunshots rang out,” I said.
“What?” he asked, suddenly serious.
“Gunshots, Sion. Then the camera feed cut out. I need her address to check on her.”
“I don’t—“
I got it. I really did. Her privacy was vitally important. He couldn’t give it out to just anyone.
“I would never ask if it wasn’t fucking possibly life or death,” I cut him off. “You know me. You know that. But if she’s in some sort of danger…”
“I…” he said, still sounding tense, his mind probably spinning with the potential for a massive lawsuit.
“If it comes to her being pissed about this, I will lie and say I fucking stalked her, okay? You won’t be involved. Give me an address.”
“I… I have to access my files. I need to get to my laptop.”
“Okay. Text me,” I said, then hung up.
At the hotel, she’d taken a ride-share.
No way in hell would she have taken one of those if she lived far from the hotel. It would be too expensive.
I figured she was in Miami somewhere, so I set off in that direction, pushing speed limits the whole way.
When I was in town, I stopped to check my phone, finding Sion had sent me her address to an apartment building only five minutes from where I was idling.
Thank fuck.
A lot of time had already passed.
Adrenaline was pulsing through my veins as I pulled up to the building.
But I had to park down the block because the area was teeming with cops.
No ambulances.
Did that mean victims had already been carted away? Or that they weren’t needed?
I was itching to get in there, but there was no way the cops would let me through when I didn’t live there.
So I cut the engine, and sat there, watching the cops and detectives walk in and out, stopping to talk to each other.
No one seemed too worried about what was going on. But I figured, like in any big city, isolated gun violence wasn’t that big of a deal to the local police departments.
It was almost a full two hours before I saw everyone starting to pack shit up. Detectives first, then the cops.
And then there was… nothing.
Siana lived in a smaller apartment building. I figured it only had maybe twenty apartments in total. It was dwarfed by buildings on both of its sides. But it was a simple white building without a doorman.
That worked in my favor as I made my way toward the front doors, reaching to open the door for a woman who was rushing out with her two babies in her arms, likely wanting to get the hell out of there if there was some threat of violence still hanging around.
I made my way toward the elevators, hitting the button for the third floor where I now knew she lived.
I was only two steps out of the elevator when I saw the police tape.
