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“Let me bandage that cut on your forehead,” I tell Bastian.
“I’ll clean up in the upstairs bathroom,” Dominic offers. “I need a shower.”
My phone buzzes as I’m taking off my jacket.
“Hey, check if Sienna texted back yet,” Dom calls out as he heads up the stairs. “I texted her that one of us would go get her. She might be ready to go.”
“Checking now,” I say as I open her message. I laugh. “Looks like a butt-text,” I tell Bastian as he takes off his shirt to examine a bruise on his ribcage.
“Call and see if she’s ready to be picked up,” Bastian suggests. I put the phone to my ear and it rings once before going to voicemail.
That’s weird. I try again but this time it goes straight to voicemail. I shrug and pull my own shirt off, trying to see if I have any other cuts or bruises.
“Maybe she’s at the library,” Bastian says, grabbing a washcloth from the drawer. “Text her, ask her when she wants to get picked up.”
Typing out the text, I hit send and lay my phone down on the counter while I help Bastian clean the cut on his forehead. Pulling a first aid kit out of the drawer, I dab on some antiseptic gel and bandage up the cut. “Looking good,” I tease as I push the bandage down.
Bastian’s eyebrows raise. “Okay, let’s patch up that cut on your cheek, kid,” he says as soon as I’m done. With a laugh, I hop up on the bathroom counter and he wipes the blood away, the smell of antiseptic wafting through the air.
“What did those guys say again?” I ask, hissing lightly at the stinging sensation. “They said someone named Diego is in charge, right?”
“Yeah, Gabriel Diego,” Bastian confirms. “Has to be related to Jorge Diego, the former leader of the Serpent Syndicate.”
“Maybe a son or a nephew,” I offer. “What plans do you think Diego has?”
“The one with the neck rolls said he wants to take over that area of town,” Bastian says, putting a butterfly bandage over thecut. “They have to be hitting up all the businesses in the southern sector then. The dry cleaners can’t be the only place they’ve gone.”
“Right,” I agree. “There has to be at least six or seven businesses on that street alone.”
Bastian counts out on his fingers. “There’s the machine shop, that clothing boutique, and a couple of retail places. We ought to pay them all a visit, see who’s been hit up and who might have gotten scared and added someone to the payroll.”
“After we go get Sienna,” I agree.
“Has she texted yet?” Bastian asks, wrapping his hand with an ace wrap.
I pick up my phone. “Nope.”
“Try calling her again. We just need an ETA on when to go over there.”
The phone goes straight to voicemail again and I hang up, glancing back at Bastian. “I can’t get her.”
“The princess wanted more freedom, but she knows she still needs to check in with us,” Bastian grumbles.
“Yeah,” I say, though there’s a strange, unsettled feeling running down my back. “It's weird. I figured Sienna would've texted by now, even just to let us know where she's headed.”
Bastian drops the trash into the can. “What did the message say?”
I hold out the phone, showing him the garbled string of letters.
Heiopwje
“Try texting her one more time, just tell her that if she doesn’t text us in the next few minutes we’re going to head to campus to get her.” Bastian's frustration is palpable.
“We promised her space, remember?” I pause, weighing our options. “Let’s wait a little bit longer.”
“Whatever,” Bastian says, voice gruff. “I’m going to grab something to eat.”
I text Sienna again, telling her to call as soon as she’s free, and then head into the kitchen to join Bastian. Dominic is making a sandwich and Bastian tells him what’s been going on.
