AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“What does that mean? Have you seen him? Did he have a pretty girl with him?”
“No. I just told the lady that he hasn’t been around in a few days.”
“What lady?” I barked, then winced, worried I would scare the poor thing, but she seemed nonplussed.
“I didn’t get her name. But she had on this awful blue dress. And an apron. She was here looking for that abusive dickhead too.” Something about her smug smirk told me she dared me to comment on her profanity.
“Any idea where the fuck he could be?” I asked, feeling panic gripping my system.
“Sorry, no. But that lady rushed out of here in a hurry like she had some idea.”
I hadn’t wanted to call her, to ruin her cover if she was hiding out outside the guy’s apartment, trying to find a way in.
But I had to now.
I couldn’t let her think she was alone in this.
I never felt relief like I’d felt when I’d heard her voice on the other end of the phone.
Until, of course, she started talking like she might not make it out of this, like she’d accepted that death was a possible outcome for her.
Which, well, it fuckingwasn’t.
Not on my watch.
No fucking way.
In general, I was a careful driver. I didn’t want to give the law any excuse to pull me over, to give my parole officer a hard time. He was already a greedy bastard. I didn’t want to have to toss any more money his way.
But for Whitney?
Fuck.
The goddamn pedal was to the floor from the second she’d hung up until my car was speeding down the street in an expensive neighborhood in New Jersey.
I barely fucking remembered to cut the damn engine when my gaze found Whitney’s bag laying on the side of the driveway near the street, making me worry that the bastard had been laying in wait, had been anticipating her arrival, and had snatched her as soon as she’d gotten out of the cab.
“Fuck,” I growled, grabbing an extra gun out of my trunk along with enough bullets to take down a fucking herd of buffalo, then ran up the long driveway toward the house at the end of it.
It was a big place.
Lots of windows.
A rich guy’s house.
Probably built in the eighties. I could see a lot of black and chrome on the inside, if it was still original to the house.
I only slowed when I got near the front door, pausing to listen, finding it eerily silent save for the chorus of crickets and cicadas all around.
If he had the girls inside, why were they silent?
Had he gagged them?
Killed them?
No.
I couldn’t let my mind go there.
