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I look at Jeffrey. “I hate gold watches. And I don’t have a suitcase like that.” I hold my arm up for him to see the leather banded Timex on my wrist. A gift from my father when I graduated high school.
He's scratching his head as we watch a few minutes more. We switch camera a few times, then I watch the entryway playback of fifteen minutes later and I see her.
My heart thunders as I spot Chastity. She's adjusting her purse strap on her shoulder and carrying a black trash bag in her other hand, leaving the office building minutes before the fire started.
Jensen Harold already told me that, but as I watch her, I see the imposter me appear behind her. Watching her. Following her.
“What the fuck…” I glare at the screen, my chest tightening.
I bolt out the door, my feet slipping on the marble floor as I make my way out of the office building. I curse at myself for not getting the tracking app on her phone installed by now. If anything happens to her, I’ll never forgive myself.
Sliding into the driver’s seat of my limo, I yank the door shut and hit the gas, leaving Clancy standing there gape-mouthed. The car tires screech, the car skids before gaining traction and speeding forward. A Bentley limo isn’t exactly designed for high-speed chases, but it’s better at it than ninety percent of any other cars out there.
That man on the CCTV footage was following Chastity, I’m sure of it.
And I can’t believe I didn’t think of this possibility. For a man who was hell-bent on pretending to be me and ruining my goddamned life, why didn’t I expect that he would attack the one thing I love most in the world?
Who could possibly look so much like me? A long-lost cousin? A doppelganger? Plastic surgery? My head is throbbing, trying to put the pieces together, but there’s really only one thing that matters to me in this moment.
I slam my palm into the steering wheel as I barrel through traffic. My pulse racing the entire drive then I finally screech to a stop in front of my private elevator in the parking garage.
A few seconds later, I punch in my code and the elevator lurches upward. I clench my fists ready to unleash an epic fury on someone’s ass if I find Chastity hurt.
The elevator doors slide open.
Silence.
My throat tightens as I see her worn leather duffel bag on the floor of the foyer, a few of her clothing items spilling out from the side.
Why was she packing a bag?
I see Chastity’s phone on top of the duffel. I reach down, grab and unlock it, seeing the twenty-five calls from my number and all the text messages. But, there’s more.
Ten missed calls in a row from ‘Dad’. Not Daddy. Her father.
Something is very wrong here and bile singes the back of my throat. Fury swelling inside me. I hit the call button and a man’s voice picks up on the first ring.
“Hello, Chastity? Chastity? Are you okay?” There’s panic in his voice.
“Where is she?” I hiss into the phone.
“You’re asking me! Is this Jackson? The police are on their way to your apartment. I called them. I know you’ve attacked her, and I swear to God she better be alive and well, you sick fuck.”
“It wasn’t me. Tell me what you heard.” I keep my voice low. “That wasn’t me who attacked her…and I don’t have time to explain.”
Not that I have much to explain, I’m still trying to figure out what the fuck is going on.
“She said your name then I heard a loud noise, screaming, then the phone disconnected.”
“That wasn’t fucking me, just listen I don’t have time for bullshit,” I hiss. “Just tell me what you heard.”
Her father goes silent at the other end. “She said someone was ringing the doorbell. Said it couldn’t be you because you don’t come in that way. She thought it was a delivery.” He seems to be connecting the dots.
“Then what happened?” I'm glancing around. No signs of a struggle.
“She opened the door and then said your name, and I heard a thud and she was groaning. I might have been a shitty father, but I will kill anyone who lays a hand on my little girl.”
“That makes two of us. I’ll find her.”
“You got my daughter into this mess. You fucking get her out.”
“Fuck.” I’m moving on autopilot. I reach into a cabinet and pull out my baseball bat. I'm not a gun guy. But I need a weapon to protect my girl. “I’m going to find her,” I tell him, my mind racing.
Right now, I don’t even know who the enemy is.
I hang up and looking around the room, adrenaline rushing through me. Just at that moment, my own phone starts to buzz and I pull it out to see it’s George.
