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Miles cracked his knuckles as he walked out of the warehouse, turning his phone back on.
It had only taken an hour before Luigi cracked. He had been working for another person and wouldn’t name the person until Miles started to torture him.
First it was his fingernails. He knew how much Luigi loved his fingernails, so they had to go first. Miles wanted to show him he meant business.
Next was leaving little cuts all over his body, some in places that were unpleasant.
He screamed like a little girl when Miles left those little cuts.
Music to his ears.
He loved it when the person he interrogated screamed and begged for mercy. He had gotten a reputation for himself and thought when people were in this situation, they would automatically tell the truth. In reality, it was as if they didn’t really believe the reputation he had.
It didn’t bother him. It just let him release his anger.
His phone started to ring and he let out a sigh. Who was trying to call him now?
Hedda.
Picking up, her rushed voice came through.
“She isn’t here,” she said. “She was supposed to be here, but she isn’t!”
Miles stopped walking. He hoped Hedda wasn’t talking about who he thought she was.
“Who?” he asked.
He prayed she wouldn’t say Storm’s name.
“Storm!” Hedda yelled.
“What happened?” he growled.
What could have happened in an hour?
“She was supposed to meet me an hour ago. First, I thought it was because she had to pack a bag and she needed a little more time, but then thirty minutes passed and she didn’t show up!” Hedda explained, her voice panicky. “I tried to call Rogan, but he wouldn’t pick up. I don’t have Kirk’s number to find out where she is!”
“Take some deep breaths,” he said.
“Don’t tell me to take some deep fucking breaths! Storm told me she felt like someone was fucking following her. Do you fucking hear that? Fucking following her!”
“Shit,” he whispered.
This wasn’t good at all. Who could be after her?
“Do you know who?” he asked.
“No! She didn’t even fucking know who was following her. Shit,” she said. “I told her I would fucking stay on the phone with her and then Rogan called me, so I answered. I thought she was on the way when I ended the call with him and then time passed and she didn’t show up.”
“I’ll go to her apartment,” he said, jogging to his car. “Where are you?”
“I’m at the restaurant we were going to meet at,” she said.
“Go home! Have guards with you. We don’t know who this is and if this person is also after you. Call Rogan until he picks up and tell him what happened.”
“Okay,” she whispered. “Stay safe.”
Hanging up, he pulled out of the parking lot and started to drive to Storm’s apartment building. He hoped she was there when he arrived, but the sinking feeling in his gut didn’t make him feel any better.
