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“Whatever you want, no matter what it is. Bring my daughter home.”
“I will.” Not that I wasn’t going to, but it can’t hurt to have a promise like that.
It’s that promise, along with everything I’ve come to love about Mia, that sends me sprinting across the lawn back to the house. I take the stairs to the basement, where the servers are located. I’ve never gotten well acquainted with Chris, one of the guys who keeps everything running smoothly, but we’re about to spend some time together.
As it turns out, he’s already on the job. “They called me from the guardhouse,” he barks when I enter. “I’m already in the DMV servers, tracing the progress of the vehicle.”
“You’re a fucking genius.” I look over his shoulder without bothering to ask if he minds. This isn’t the time for formalities. “Where did you pick them up?”
“About a mile down the road, at the intersection.” There they are, going through roughly an hour ago as night was beginning to fall. I can’t believe I let that much time pass without knowing she was gone. Too busy placating her father. “Then I have them a few minutes later at the next light.” He switches to a still from that feed.
Meanwhile, I try to call Mia again. Her phone is still off. Which one of them turned it off, though? I wouldn’t be surprised if she did to make sure she couldn’t be tracked, but I also wouldn’t be surprised if he had something to do with it. He wouldn’t want her to be able to reach out for help, right?
Does she know yet? If he has even a scrap of decency left, he won’t make this too hard for her.
But I’ll never forget that look in his eyes. Outside the restaurant. The cold, seething hatred. The look of somebody who wants to taste blood. And there I was, telling myself it was all about her. How could I be so stupid? Because I wanted her so much it was hard to breathe, I assumed everybody did. I wrote him off. Who the hell do I think I am, bragging about being able to protect her? What a joke.
Chris grunts, drawing my attention away from where I’m signing into Mia’s messenger account. I might be able to reach him through that. But should I? It’s one thing to perform a hit and follow orders.
But I’ve never had to negotiate with a maniac. And if there’s one thing the Morelli family doesn’t do, it’s call the cops for help. I’m on my own.
“What is it?” I watch closely, and soon, it’s clear what Chris reacted to. “Where the fuck did they go?”
“I’m still trying to figure that out.” He checks back to their last location picked up by a camera, then follows the map to the next intersection. They never rolled through.
“Try east and west,” I suggest, though I’m sure he already figured that by now. I hate feeling useless. There has to be a way.
While he’s looking at that, I turn my attention to the app. This fucking asshole. The way he fucking wormed his way into her circle of friends. They were chatting in the car, too, according to the timestamps. I didn’t even know she was still in contact with him. Under other circumstances, that would infuriate me, but now, I can’t be bothered to hold it against her.
Besides, if she doesn’t regret it by now, I’m afraid she will soon.
There has to be at least a hundred photos here. What am I looking for? A clue as to where he would take her. There’s a photo of him with three guys he refers to as foster brothers, all of them smiling and holding up beers. There’s one of him fishing and a few at the beach, but nothing to give me any idea about where he lived before he enrolled at Blackthorn.
Clearly, his old man left him money. Probably money he stole from the family, but nobody was ever able to find it. He wasn’t as smart as he thought, though, because he got found out. Hence agreeing to work with the feds. He was scared out of his mind knowing Bruno Morelli doesn’t take well to being robbed. No one does.
But he is a guy with plenty of muscle behind him, which most people don’t have at their disposal.
I’m halfway through Dean’s photos when the messenger box pops up. Who is this? I know it isn’t Mia. Mia’s with me. I don’t have time to respond before he follows up with a second message. Let me guess. You think you can help her, don’t you? Haven’t I already told you? You can’t protect her.
“Motherfucker,” I mutter, drawing Chris’s attention. “He knows I’m on here.” What am I supposed to say? If it was just me, I wouldn’t care. I would dare the bastard to come and find me, to fight it out like men. Hell, I don’t even hold it against him. If I watched somebody blow my dad’s head off, I’d want to kill them, too.
But this isn’t that simple. If only it was.
This is between you and me, I type. She has nothing to do with it. You know that.
It’s your turn to see what it means to lose.
No, no, not like this. Where are you? If you want me, you’ve got me. Face-to-face. Whatever you say. Leave her out of it.
Why should I?
Because you know she has nothing to do with this. The family. She’s innocent.
I was innocent, too. That didn’t stop you.
“I didn’t know!” I’d smash the fucking computer into dust if it wasn’t for Mia needing me. I didn’t know.
Would that have changed anything?he asks. Never mind. I don’t want your excuses. I want your suffering. His account goes from active to inactive, telling me he’s logged off. And I still don’t know where the hell he is, where he’s taken her.
