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Why didn’t she tell me in person? Why did I have to wait till I got home to find her note next to the front door?
And if it hadn’t been for the fact that I needed more ammunition, I wouldn’t have seen the note at all. With a growl, I kick a few more drawers aside and step over the shards of glass on the floor. Ernesto doesn’t look surprised when he finds me standing in the middle of a room that looks like a tornado ripped through it.
He motions to me and then follows me downstairs.
“He can’t have gotten far. I want that fucking bastard on his hands and knees in front of me.”
“Without knowing where his safe house is, he could be anywhere.”
When I reach the landing, I swivel to face Ernesto. “I don’t fucking care if he’s in Antarctica. I want Rich fucking Donahue, and I don’t want excuses.”
Knowing Rich, he wouldn’t have gotten far, not when he wanted to gloat. And lord it over me.
It’s only a matter of time before I hear from him, or at least that’s what I’m hoping. Because a man like Rich doesn’t strike me as the type to relish a quiet victory.
I never should’ve kept his betrayal a secret.
Tristan says something while Ernesto is tending to his wounds. I spin around to face him and study his face intently. Finally, Ernesto hands him a pen and paper. When I read the words he’s written down, the sick feeling in the center of my stomach intensifies.
I’m going to find Rich Donahue and kill him with my bare hands.
Then I’m going to bring Isabella and our baby home if it’s the last thing I do.
* * *
