It’s not like he needed a new one. His parents loved him. Treated him well. They made it no secret that he was their favorite. They were heartbroken when he left.
“C’mon. Get on the bike, baby girl.”
“I… My pajama pants are…dirty.”
He lets out one of his carefree laughs. “You’re such a good girl. Don’t ya worry, baby. I ain’t scared of a little blood. I’ll clean it all up later.” He gets out a spare helmet and places it on my head. “You’re gonna ride behind me, wearing my cut, and I’ll take good care of you, alright?”
I nod sheepishly, my heart squealing. I lift my leg, careful my pants don’t fall off, and straddle the bike. Is this really happening? Shane Fletcher is going to take care of me?
“Good girl. Let that hag, fuck, let the whole town see who ya belong to now.”
CHAPTER 3
Jacob
“Where is Birdie?!”
Morra’s number two, Marcus something, steps away from his desk. He dismisses the security guards attempting to prevent my entrance as they claim I have no jurisdiction in their facility. “Welcome to Monarca, Detective. How was the ferry ride?”
I storm into his office. “Where is she? Is she with him?!”
“Calm down, Detective, and take a seat.” He rounds his desk and makes himself comfortable in his chair. “Would you like something to drink? Vegan coffee?”
I’ve never liked that asshole with the porn-star moustache. I barely stop myself from banging the glass surface of his desk with my fists. “I want to know where she is.”
He types something on his computer. “As you must know by now, Mrs. Abel is no longer our client. Her whereabouts aren’t monitored by Monarca anymore. If you want to get in touch with her, you can either call or pay her a visit in person.” His face mocks me. “Have you lost her number or forgotten her address? If that’s the case, I can’t help you either. I’m unable to disclose any personal information about our former clients.”
“What the fuck? Where is Morra? He has her. I know it in my bones.”
“Calm down and take a seat, or I’ll have to escort you out of the building myself,” he warns. “Or, better yet, call the police. It won’t look good for you, Detective, barging into people’s offices, abusing your authority.”
“Where is Morra?” I seethe.
He slams his laptop shut and shoots up from his seat. “He’s not here.”
“Bullshit.”
“I’m not obliged to disclose Mr. Morra’s whereabouts either, but as a kind gesture, I will. He didn’t return to Boston with the rest of us. He took the first flight straight to New York to set up Monarca’s new branch.”
“So he took her there? He called her and told her some bullshit so she’d go be with him in New York?”
“I hope not. That woman is nothing but bad news,” he mumbles.
Now, I slam the surface of his desk with my palms. “What did you just call her?”
“You heard me. Tristan is like a brother to me. She used him and broke his heart to be with you, and for what?” He snorts. “You couldn’t keep her safe for one day.”
Son of a bitch. I clench my fists so hard my skin feels like it’s tearing off my fingers. I’m standing so close I can punch him toothless. “Call. Morra. Now.”
“Or what?”
“Or he’ll be the prime suspect in Birdie Abel’s missing-persons case.”
He rolls his eyes. “Missing persons? We left the island, what, around two p.m. yesterday, and now, it’s,” he checks his watch, “nine in the morning, for God’s sake. You think she went missing because she hadn’t texted you back in two seconds? Don’t you need like forty-eight hours to report someone missing,Detective?”
“Fuck you. Do you think I’d be here talking to the likes of you or Morra if I didn’t think she was in danger? She was supposed to meet me last night. I went to pick her up, but she wasn’t there and hasn’t been returning my calls since.”
I’ve checked my phone a hundred times. Called her twenty-six. The last text she sent was a heart emoji after we finalized our plans. Dancing. She wanted to go dancing.
