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The hair on my arms stands up on end.
Static energy crackles in the air between us like the pregnant moment before lightning strikes.
My fingers and toes tingle.
“Never.”
CHAPTER21
LUCIAN
Last night did not go as planned.
Maybe I shouldn’t have answered the way I did, but I’m not a liar and I’m not about to start now only to ease her feelings. She’s torn, I get it. That’s how I felt for so long.
After a tense morning, she’s avoided me all day. Knowing she’s safe in the school building, I’m giving her as much space as I can, but classes are done for the day and I need to take her with me on my rounds.
Leaning against Star’s locker, I check the time on my phone. My brows lift. It’s later than I thought. I have a meeting in half-an-hour in Queens. Fuck, I’m never going to be there on time. My gaze drifts down to the floor by her locker. I frown. Her cell phone is cradled up against the dark blue metal of her locker.
My gut churns.
What the fuck?
I text Anton to see if he’s seen her around school and he replies that he hasn’t.
I text back to have him find out if her little friends are still in the building. He promptly replies that Gabby and Crina have left.
Something’s wrong.I feel it in my bones. She knows better than to leave without me and yet my instinct tells me she’s defied my order. Again. Fuck me, but without the geolocator, I have no idea where she is.
Abandoning my backpack, I sprint down the hall to the stairs and them two steps at a time. I fly across the lobby and out the door. Dashing down the street, I turn onto the avenue and search down that block.
She’s nowhere to be seen.
It’s too late for help. If anything’s happened to her, I’m on my own. Hoping that I’m wrong, I dart down the street toward the subway station, texting my boys and muttering to myself that when I get a hold of her, I’m going to strip her ass with my belt. She will learn what happens when she pulls a stunt like this. No one gets the drop on me.
I reach the subway station and burst onto the platform just in time to see Star and her two friends laughing as they enter the subway car. A vaguely familiar-looking man in a suit with a shaved head enters right behind them.
I jump the turnstile and dash toward the silver-colored train.
The doors slam shut in my face.
I cup my hands over my eyes and peer into the car as it passes me; the man turns toward me, a malevolent smirk on his face.
My blood runs cold.
Bratva.
Fuck.
Panic attacks my throat like a hundred blades, choking me. No one hurts my woman. Once I get my hands on him, I’m going to carve this fucker up from limb to limb. It’s going to be the most excruciating death the world has ever known.
But first, I need to get on. The subway picks up speed, whooshing past me on the platform. With no other choice, I grab the stainless-steel chain on the back landing of the caboose and swing onto the floorboard of the car. The doors between cars are always open, except for the door of the last car—the one I’m hanging onto.
I glance up as we whistle through the dark tunnel. There isn’t much light, but I can discern at least several feet of headroom between the top of the roof and the top of the tunnel. My first thought is to climb onto the roof, crawl across it, and drop back down to get into the next car, but then I remember that I’m on a local train. It will pull into the next station before I’ve accomplished that kind of next-level acrobatics.
I grit my teeth and hang on, praying that Star hasn’t been kidnapped or outright murdered as I wait. The instant the train reaches the platform, I hop off and rush into the opening doors of the subway car.
Once inside, I fly from car to car until I get to hers. Before busting into the car where I last saw her, I squint through the grimy window of the door to see what’s waiting for me.
