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Smoke’s hand closes tightly around my phone. “Maybe Zen can take a look at the phone, he might be able to find out who it is, the guy is a genius when it comes to tech.” He pauses and his eyes meet mine. “You mentioned something about all the guys from San Francisco being assholes. You wanna tell me more about that?”
My mind literally shuts down, because telling Smoke all about my abusive ex is the last thing in the world I want to do. He’ll think less of me for falling in that trap and for not getting out sooner. If I’m totally honest, I think less of myself for falling for Stan’s bullshit and not leaving him the first time he was abusive. Being victimized is humiliating.
When I don’t answer, Smoke frowns at me. He opens his mouth to speak, but the server interrupts the conversation in order to drop our plates off.
Smoke pushes my phone across the table, and I slide it silently into my pocket. “My friend might be out of calling range. I might call her family when I get back to your place, and just double check to make sure she’s okay.”
“That would probably be a good idea,” Smoke responds and fixes me with a look. “We’re not finished with this conversation. Not by a long shot, and you need to know that.”
I roll my eyes, all too aware how overly protective the Savage Legion brotherhood can be. We tuck into our food with gusto and the conversation dies down a bit as we eat.
After rolling this situation around in my head, I still can’t imagine why Gina’s not returning my calls. We were friends for almost two years, and after I left Stan, she welcomed me into her place with open arms. I can’t get the image of her standing in the doorway in her pajamas out of my mind. The more I think of her, the more worried I become.
“Do you mind if I ask what your friend’s name is?”
“No, of course not. Her name is Regina Samson. Everyone calls her Gina.”
“I can have Zen, our IT guy, run a check on her. He should be able to tell us if she moved out of area or got a new cell phone.”
“That sounds like a violation of privacy.”
“It’s all public information,” he responds. “If it sets your mind at ease, I don’t see the harm in it.”
“I would prefer to give her family a call. If that doesn’t pan out, I would be grateful to have your friend look into the situation with her.”
Smoke relaxes back into his seat. “We’ll wait until we get back to my house to talk about the stalker.”
I give him a careless shrug, because to my mind it falls in the category of random things that aren’t my problem. Smoke keeps the conversation light for the rest of the evening. We relax into polite conversation as we eat our dinner and share a dessert. Everything with this man it’s just so easy going. To my mind he’s a real gem.
I know some women don’t care for relationships with older men, but Smoke is not that much older than me, and I’ve known him for the better part of my life. I toy with the idea of what it would be like to have him in my life long-term. I like the way that looks in my mind.
Chapter 18
Smoke
As soon as we walk through the door, Serena pulls out her phone, sits down on the sofa and calls her friend’s family with shaking hands. I can tell she’s super worried by her body language and the expression on her face.
There are numerous reasons why someone’s best friend might stop responding to their texts and calls. The most obvious reason is that the friend is initiating a hard break of the relationship. Maybe long-distance friendships aren’t her strong suit, or perhaps she is bearing some resentment toward Serena for leaving.
For some reason, I have a bad feeling about this situation, maybe it was the incomplete text she received earlier, that’s unsettling me. I don’t think this call is going to end the way she hopes it does. Therefore, I stick close to her just in case. A minute later someone answers the call, Serena jumps to her feet and starts pacing as she speaks.
“Hello, sir. This is Serena Sommers, I’m a friend of your daughter’s. I’ve been trying to get in touch with Gina for a while and haven’t had any luck. I just wanted to check on her and see if everything was okay. Have heard from her lately?”
Whatever the person on the other end of the line says, causes Serena to stop in her tracks. Within moments her legs buckle out from under her, and she sinks to her knees.
I rush over to her and drop my knees beside her.
Serena bursts out crying. “How awful. No sir, I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”
By this time, she’s crying so hard she can’t speak. I take the phone out of her hand and say, “I’m sorry, but Serena will have to call you back.”
Serena’s hands are covering her mouth and she’s shaking her head back and forth like she’s trying to deny the reality that something happened to her friend. I grasp her wrists and pull her hands down from her face. “Are you okay?”
She shook her head, “Gina’s dead. Murdered. They found her body dumped at a local park.”
I wrap my arms around her, pick her up and settle down on the sofa with her in my lap. “I’m so sorry, sweetness.”
“Why?” She asks tearfully. “Why would someone do something like that?”
