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My feet halt of their own volition near the kitchen’s ajar door. The stench of something metallic and potent fills the air instead of baked goods.

Blood.

I flatten my back against the wall and bring out my gun as I slowly push the door open.

If that fucker George is starting something here—

“Took you long enough.” Lucio stands over a corpse, a scowl written on his face.

Beside him, Stephan and Marco grin, their hands bloodied, droplets smudging their faces and shirts.

Sarah —or what remains of her— lies cold on the floor, her head snapped, lolling to the side at an awkward angle. Her nails are chipped, an object protrudes from between her breasts. Her panties are bunched to her ankles, soaked in blood.

The fucking animals.

They raped an old woman dry in the ass. An old fucking woman.

I’m tempted to put bullets in their heads, but I force my hand to drop to my side and to wear the blank face I’m so good at.

“I needed her for information,” I say in a bored voice, but a fucking fire rages inside me.

She was the last person who knew me and Joseph.

“I got it myself.” Lucio kicks her lifeless corpse. “You’re getting sloppy, Jasper.”

“I found her, didn’t I? The cleaners,” I motion at Stephan and Marco, “only followed me here and took credit for my job.”

“A job you’re not doing well.” Lucio appears calm, but I know when he’s at his limit.

He’s been dreaming about being the leader since his father was alive, and now that he has it within reach, he won’t allow anything or anyone to sabotage it.

“What did she say?” I throw a fleeting glance at Sarah’s corpse.

She was loyal to Joseph, but considering the torture she endured, she must’ve talked. At a certain point of torture, the brain shuts down and will do anything to stop the pain.

“He’s in the city,” Lucio says. “He’s hidden well, so he could be in a safe house or under some fucking witness protection program.”

“Is that all she said?”

“What else should she have said?” he asks.

“Just asking.”

Interesting. Sarah knew exactly where Joseph was, and she contemplated telling me, thinking I’d protect him. But when Lucio was involved, she kept her loyalty until the bitter end.

She really was ready for death.

“What happened to his mother?” I rip my gaze away from her and focus on Lucio.

“Where is that question coming from?”

“She could be hiding him.”

“Impossible.” He clicks his tongue. “I killed that bitch with my own hands.”

So that option is out. Back to the drawing board.

“I’ll find him,” I tuck my gun away and turn around.

“You better.” Lucio’s voice echoes behind me. “I have strikes, too, Jasper, and this is your fucking last.”20GeorginaThe ER has been full of cases that broke my heart all week. From battered girlfriends to hurt children, I've seen more than enough to put me in a miserable mood all night.

This time when I walk into my apartment, my new habit is already kicking in, and I check the place to make sure my stalker hasn't paid me another visit.

I'm almost convinced Jas hasn't been here until I walk into my bedroom. The little gift he left me is right there, on my pillow.

I approach the bed and pick up a lacy pair of red panties. There's also a note on the pillow. It's my first time seeing Jas' handwriting. It's scribbly and barely readable, and even though I'm supposed to be pissed at him, it makes me smile.

The note says, 'Put these on for me, I want to know you're wearing them. – Jas'

I stare at the scrap of lace before quickly slipping out of my jeans and the pale blue cotton panties I'm wearing. I slip on the red lace and an oversized T-shirt that barely covers my butt. The lace feels soft and inviting against my skin and keeps me thinking of things that shouldn't be on my mind as I settle in front of the TV.

I flip through the channels and absent-mindedly pet Mrs. Hudson while Mr. Bingley stares out of the window. I pick up my phone, trying to decide whether I should call him. My teeth dig into my bottom lip and I call his number on a whim.

I bet he won't pick up.

I banish the thought from my mind, but on the sixth ring, I've had enough.

I end the call and put the phone down, pretending it doesn't matter that Jasper is ignoring me again. But the pain is still there, and I can't focus on anything that evening.

When I come to terms with the fact that I won't be able to follow the TV, I grab my laptop and begin an internet search.

Jasper.

With a start, I realize I don't even know his last name. How the hell am I even supposed to find information on this guy when I barely know anything about him?

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