Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
“I just came from the bar,” I snapped. At his raised brow look, the next part just burst out of me. “And he just fucked me, so I doubt he has recovered enough yet to head out with another chick.”
Brooks let out a low whistle and turned away, walking back toward the kitchen, sensing the powder keg that was my entire being right that moment.
“Never thought it would be necessary to say that prospects don’t get to fuck around with each other,” Fallon said. “But prospects don’t get to fuck around with each other.”
“Excuse me but presidents who fuck the enemy who kidnapped their father don’t get to take the moral high ground,” I hissed.
“Careful.”
“Do something,” I shot back.
“Lu, there is no way for any of us to know that Valen is in danger right now.”
“Read his fucking texts,” I demanded, shoving the phone at him.
“He left his phone?” Fallon asked, curiosity clearly piqued. Finally.
Because, in general, it was strange for anyone to be without their phone. But also because it was club policy not to be without your phone in case of emergencies.
“Someone has been threatening him for, what, years?” I asked, waving at it as Fallon kept scrolling.
“He never responded.”
“Until recently,” I agreed.
“He agreed to a meeting,” Fallon said.
“Because the threats were getting worse,” I said. “It sounded like they were closing in. And, knowing Valen, he decided to meet because he was worried about what they might do to us. Or the wives and kids.”
“Alright,” Fallon said, nodding. “I’ll have Chris look into this.”
“You’ll have Chris look into this?” I growled, infuriated with how calm he seemed.
“If it makes you feel better, I will call in Junior too.”
“Junior?” I repeated. I didn’t know Junior personally, but he was the son of a guy who’d done odd enforcing jobs and a woman who worked as a hacker who once exposed cheating husbands, but then graduated to more vigilante-style justice.
“He’s good with computers now,” Fallon said. “And phones.”
“You can’t be fucking serious right now. We need to be out there, talking to people, trying to track him down.”
“Babe, it’s been, what, an hour or two? He’s hardly even late, let alone missing. We can look into this, but give him the chance to show up. If we don’t hear about him before the morning, we can start worrying.”
“Start worrying,” I repeated, jaw getting tight.
“Babe, the fuck are you going to do if you head out right now? Knock on doors? You need a direction to go in. Chris and Junior could give some guidance. I know patience isn’t your forte, but you got to give them a chance to help us out.”
“He’s got a point,” Voss grumbled, voice low enough that only I could hear it.
Hearing it from him, someone who care about Valen almost as much as I did, made some of my rage slip away.
“Besides, you can’t go fucking anywhere with your breath smelling like liquor,” Fallon reasoned.
“Fine,” I hissed, turning away and heading back to the prospect room.
“What are you doing?” Voss asked, coming in behind me.
“Calling some of my contacts,” I told him as I pulled out my phone. “I don’t have a lot of them in the States, but I am going to do what I can do. I can’t just sit here and do nothing.”
“Can do that too,” Voss agreed, seeming—like me—to be happy to have some task to do, even if we didn’t truly believe we were going to be of much use.
And with Valen’s phone taken by Chris and Junior and their varied skills, we had nothing else to go on.
Morning felt like it was forever away.
Voss and I kept bringing each other cup after cup of coffee, despite being wide awake.
And the two of us jumped each time we heard footsteps. I nearly jumped out of my skin when someone opened the door to the prospect room.
“Damnit,” I hissed, seeing Nave walking in.
“Nice greeting, baby,” he said, giving me a tired, lazy smile. “What’s going on?
“Valen is missing.”
“Missing?” Nave repeated, dubious.
“Apparently, someone has been threatening him for a long time. But he never told us. And now he’s gone. Left his phone here and everything.”
“Okay,” Nave said. “Where’s your mind at?”
“Florida. Maybe. Florida crew that may have moved up this way? But, then again, it might be any crew on the east coast. Or, you know, Voss and I are completely off and it is someone in the midwest, for all we know.”
“Hence Junior sitting in the living room, tapping away.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “Does he seem like he’s found anything?”
“Figure, if he did, he would be done with all the typing. How’s someone threatening him?”
“Text.”
To that, Nave’s brow lifted.
“Text,” he repeated. “And you haven’t acted on that yet?”
“Acted on it how?” I asked, shaking my head.
To that, Nave sighed as he reached in his pocket for his phone. Not, I will say, his fancy, brand new smartphone. Oh, no. This was a cheap-ass burner. I had no idea why he would even need to have one of those. But it wasn’t the time to ask.