Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 128980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
I straighten my jacket and turn, set on getting Camille in my car and out of here before the police turn up.
I locate the table where I left her.
And my knees give.
She’s gone.
* * *
I’ve never felt a panic like this. I’ve been so numb for so many years; the barrage of emotions striking me relentlessly now are enough to make me go on a killing spree until she’s safe in my care again.
What have I done?
I turn on the spot, frantically searching the surrounding area. “Camille!” I roar.
This is my fault. I’ve failed her.
“Camille!” I run over to where we were sitting, finding her phone still on the table and her bag where I left it on the seat next to us. “Fuck!” I snatch up her bag and phone and pelt toward my car, throwing them onto the passenger seat and racing off down the road like a madman.
I drive up and down the street—scan every person, look down every alley, zoom in on every car.
Nothing.
I grab my phone and call Lucinda, not even giving her time to greet me before I bark my instructions down the line. “Camille’s gone. Call Logan, call the police. I have her phone and bag. There’s a CCTV camera on the building opposite the café on Stretton Street. Get me the footage from the last hour.”
“Got it,” Lucinda answers, cool and collected. “Where are you?”
“Looking for her.” I hang up and punch the steering wheel, taking a hard right and racing to the main road. I don’t know where I’m heading, just driving randomly, up and down road after road, searching for her. I’ll kill myself. I swear, if anything happens to her, I’ll slice myself to pieces. This will be a mistake I’ll never forgive myself for. This will be the nail in the coffin for me and my black soul.
The small light I’ve found in my blackness is fading by the second.
* * *
It could be one hour, could be two, three, or a whole fucking day. I don’t know. I lost all concept of time the moment I noticed she was gone. I pull into the underground car park of her apartment block and screech to a stop by her car. Something immediately catches my eye. An envelope on the windscreen of Camille’s Merc. I’m at the foot of the shiny red convertible in a heartbeat, and a second later, I’m staring down at more pictures of Camille. There are two words printed on one of the pictures.
Time’s up.
“Fuck, no!” My fear and worry multiply by a million, and so does my anger. The photos in my grasp crumple under the force of my clenched fist, my teeth ready to crack from the force of my bite as I stomp my way through to the lobby and into the elevator, dialing Lucinda as I do. “I found a note on Camille’s car. It says time’s up.”
“Shit,” she curses. “The camera opposite the café has been out of order for over a month.”
“Fuck!” As the doors open, I step out and pace in a haze of ruin down the hall. “Logan? The police?”
“On their way to her apartment.”
“Good.” I round the corner, Camille’s door coming into view, and I jolt to a screaming halt.
Because slumped against the wood on her arse is my angel.
I grab the nearby wall to steady myself, relief making me dizzy.
She looks up, eyes overflowing with tears, her face red and blotchy. But she’s still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. “I couldn’t get in,” she chokes, sniffling uncontrollably. “My keys are in my bag. And my mobile.” She sniffs. “I was going to use my neighbor’s phone.” She points across the hall. “But he’s not home. And I don’t know your number.”
Relieved air pours from my mouth and I let my back meet the wall opposite her, my legs finally giving up on me. My arse hits the carpet with a thud as I vaguely hear Lucinda calling my name. I bring my phone to my ear. “I’ve got her. Call off the police. And Logan.”
“What?”
“Just do it, Luce. She’s safe. I’ll call you soon.” I hang up and drop my phone to the floor by my thigh, along with Camille’s bag and the envelope. I can’t hide my emotion and I don’t want to. I allow a tear of relief to trickle down my cheek and drop onto my suit jacket. It’s too much. All of these feelings and need and the fucking fear.
“I thought you’d been taken.” I swallow around the lump in my throat. “I thought I’d lost you, Camille.”
“I couldn’t watch.” She sniffs and coughs over her words. “I don’t like seeing you like that. You frighten me.”
I shake my head, feeling so remorseful, but only for putting her at risk, for making her feel like this. I was so lost in my mission to wipe out the ex-boyfriend and his posse, I lost sight of my true mission. I struggle to my feet and walk over to her, dropping to my knees before her slumped body. I take her hands and find her eyes, hoping she sees the regret and guilt that are blinding me. “I’m so sorry. I saw red, Cami. What he did to you, I can’t…” I clench my eyes shut, struggling to finish. “I can’t bear it.”