AllFreeNovel
Share Us
About an hour into research mode, my phone beeps once again.
I glance down and see it’s a message again from an unknown number.
Unknown: This is Sabrina. Gianna gave me your number and asked me to text you. She said you have a key to her house and that you would be able to bring her a change of close.
What in the world? What has Gianna gotten herself into, and why would she need me to bring her clothes?
I pick my phone up and respond to this Sabrina.
Me: Um, before I agree to anything. I need to know the password.
There’s no way I’m going anywhere unless I know for a fact this Sabrina is with Gianna. A while back, when we first graduated college, we came up with a word in case something like this happened.
A text comes in not even two minutes later.
Unknown: Peacock.
Out of the three words we picked for different scenarios, that one meant she was safe and not in danger.
Breathing a sigh of relief, I respond.
Me: Um, yes . . . I have a key and can go get them. Is she okay? Did something happen to her? What clothes does she want? Anything she needs from the house?
I send the message before I can keep rambling out my questions because, knowing Gianna, it could be anything.
A few minutes pass before another message comes in from Sabrina.
Sabrina: She says leggings, tank top, zip-up hoodie, and if you’ll bring her, her laptop.
Me: Okay, got it. Can you let her know I’ll bring her on the go kit?
I slide away from my desk, put my feet on the floor and stand. With my cellphone in hand, I make my way out of my office. I stop in the kitchen and grab the key to Gianna’s place off the hook.
My phone beeps in my hand with another message. Lifting it, I check it to find Sabrina gave me the address to where Gianna is.
I snatch up the key and head for the door leading to my detached garage off to the side where I keep my car, a 1976 Camero painted cherry red with a black stripe down the middle. My grandma gave it to me when I graduated high school. It was my granddad’s before he died, and I cherish it. Besides the house, it’s the only thing I have of my family. My grandma moved to Florida several years ago, but she comes to visit often. I still miss her, though.
Pressing the button to lift the garage door, I slide into the driver’s seat and start my car. She growls, and I smile.
I back out of my driveway onto the street and switch to drive. Gianna’s apartment is only a fifteen-minute drive. I park in one of her two spots and head up to her place. Thankfully the front of my skirt is shorter than the back. I almost think I should have changed out of my cream color flowy skirt with a thin black stripe at the hem of it to a pair of jeans. Maybe even switch out my sandals with boots. My shirt being a black tank top, wasn’t a problem. At least I left my hair loose this morning, letting it fall down my back.
Inside I shake my head at the mess that is her place. Gianna isn’t one for keeping anything clean. She tidies up, but that’s it. I walk through her apartment and go to her room. I move straight to her closet and grab her on the go kit. It has her bath essentials, cash, extra phone and charger, undergarments, and a change of clothes.
I set the kit on the bed and find the clothes Gianna asked for. I put them inside her pack before getting her laptop, notepads, pens, and whatnot together in the case she uses for her electronics. I also figure she might need her Kindle, so I pack that as well.
Gathering both cases and bag in my arms, I leave Gianna’s and head back down to my car, setting them on the passenger seat.
I get in behind the wheel and pull up the directions to the address Sabrina gave me.
Pulling back onto the road, I follow the GPS, getting to the building that shocks me, considering there’s a load of bikes and men hanging outside. I pull in through the open gate and park near the other vehicles.
I get out and take a deep breath, not sure what I’m about to walk into. Rounding the hood, I open the passenger door pick up Gianna’s belongings, and face the building—this must be her brother’s club.
For some reason, Enzo’s face flashes in my mind for a brief moment, and I swallow back the pain that image brings forward.
I walk up to the doors and step inside from the bright sunlight into a much dimmer lighting.
I barely get five steps inside when I come face to face with a very pissed man. The very same one who kicked me out of his bed two weeks ago—Enzo.
