Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
SILAS
I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling. That beaded drop of blood on her cheek still burning neon fucking bright in my mind.
Sleep wasn’t comforting tonight. It was hard and cruel, like a mistress who’s touch left me wanting. Wanting and yet unable to have a goddamn thing.
Get the fuck off her!
Gabe’s screams rang in my head as I shoved upwards and climbed out of bed, padding across the room to grab my cell and squinted at the time five a.m. “Jesus Christ.”
But I didn’t drop my phone back down. Instead I glanced at the unanswered messages from Sloane. He still hadn’t responded, and he’d never not responded. One more look at my frantic messages and I looked over my shoulder to the mess of a bed. Sleep was gone with no hope of returning.
I was tired of waiting. Tired of being at the fucking whims of my father’s brother and now my own employee. There was only one thing for it. I was going out to find him.
I strode into the shower, flicked on the light and hit the tap, starting the spray.
Thoughts of our sister pushed into my head.
I scrubbed, then rinsed, hitting the lever once again before I stepped out and grabbed a towel.
The knife was too far. I knew that…and still some part of me didn’t care that I hurt her.
Because the truth justified the means.
I stopped drying. But did it?
The answer was an empty void of nothingness that gave me no peace. I tossed the towel to the floor and strode out into my room, pulling on black jeans and a t-shirt before I grabbed my boots and my jacket.
By the time I walked out of the house, the sky was brightening along the horizon.
I hit the button opening the garage and walked the Ducati out before I climbed on and pulled my helmet low.
Everything fell away when I started the engine and pushed off, idling the sleek machine along the side of the house until I hit the street and accelerated.
I’d never been to Sloane’s house. But as with all our employees it was a requirement to list their name and addresses and personal information in our database. My father always had trust issues, I guess now it was with good reason.
The GPS on the phone led me not far from where the offices were in the city. I slowed the bike, pulling in around the early commuters and pulled outside a darkened two-storey brownstone. My cell said it was the right address, but there was no car parked in the driveway.
I climbed off the bike and pulled my helmet free, running a hand through the still damp strands of my hair.
One glance along the street on each side and I climbed free and headed for the front door.
There were no lights on inside. No hint of anyone from the frosted glass panel of the door, which led me to skirt along the side against the fence to peer into the window.
The place was empty as in not a thing inside.
No furniture.
No photos.
I stepped back as rage rippled deep. I didn’t know what I expected to find…but it wasn’t this. I rounded to the rear, glancing along the long forgotten garden and stopped, picking up a heady rock and hauled it through rear door, listening to the glass shatter instantly.
Shards scratched my jacket as I reached in and unlocked the door from the inside before I pushed it open.
Morning sunlight spilled through the windows as I made my way through the vacant house, heading to the stairs and climbed, taking them two at a time until I stopped at the landing.
Bedroom doors were open on each side of me.
I headed for the first one, stepping inside to an empty room.
The wardrobes were open and empty, leaving me to head across the hallway to the other room which was the same. The sonovabitch was gone…like really fucking gone. “Fuck!”
I shook my head and made my way downstairs and back to the kitchen…then I stopped staring at the item on the bench. “That gutless fucking bastard.” One step and I snatched the ID and security tag from the bench. The same one we all had.
We gave him everything, and at the first sign of trouble the bastard turned tail and ran.
Rage seethed inside leaving me to clench my fists. He’d better run, because if I got hold of him. He was a dead man.
The heavy thud of music from outside pushed into my mind.
I turned my head, slowly drawing myself away from the rage to focus on the thick, heavy beat and made my way to the front of the house.
A car slowly rolled toward the house. The black, lowered Mustang stood out like a neon sign amongst the Toyotas and family wagons.
The windows were down, what looked like Latino guys hanging their arms out of the windows.
Was it them?
The Cartel del Diablo?
I stiffened as fear replaced rage and that icy shiver of realization made me step backwards. Had Sloane run? Or had he been threatened? I glanced over my shoulder to the ID cards on the bench. Either way it told me one thing. I was on my own.
My phone vibrated in my pocket as the black Mustang disappeared. I pulled it free and glanced at the caller ID, then answered. “Yeah?”
“She’s gone.” Gabe’s voice was frantic in my ear. “She’s just gone, Silas! I don’t know what to do. She was here one minute and then…and then I can’t find her.”
Everything else disappeared and all the desperation and rage came flooding back. I was focused now…so goddamn focused on her. “What the fuck happened?”
“I don’t know. She was in the shower and I was making breakfast and then when I came out the front door was opened and she was gone.”
“Her cell phone?”
“She had it with her.”
“Her bags?”
“I don’t know. I just don’t know.”
“Well, fucking LOOK!”
I was already striding for the rear of the house, leaving the abandoned ID cards on the counter behind. I didn’t care about them now. She can’t be gone. She can’t run…not from ME! “Goddamn little fucking bitch.”
Gabe’s heavy steps thundered in the cell as my boots crunched on broken glass and I strode out, hearing around the side of the house once more.
“They…they’re still here.” He gasped. “They’re all still here.”
“So she can’t be running fucking far, can she?”
“No.” My little brother answered. “She can’t.”
“Then start looking. I’m on my way.”
I strode out from the house and headed to where my bike was parked. There was no sign of the Mustang or anyone else for that matter. Right now the Cartel needed to wait. I pulled up my cell, scrolled through and hit the button as I climbed on my bike and pulled my helmet down.
“Silas.” Kieran answered on the second ring. “Any word?”
“He’s gone.” I kicked the bike off the stand and into gear. “And he’s not coming back.”
“Jesus Christ. Did they get to him?”
“Who knows. All I do know is he’s not coming back…not alive that’s for sure.”
Kieran was Sloane’s team leader. The one who did every task set assigned to him, including the investigation into the breech and the Mexican Cartel.
But when I called asking him where the fuck his boss was, the guy acted stunned.
He had no idea Sloane was missing. He did now.
Not only that it was his job to track his boss down.
But now I needed him for something else.
“I have another problem. One more close to home.”
“Shoot.”
“Angelica’s gone missing. She has no bags, so she can’t have gone far. I need you to track her cell.”
“I’m on it. Was this planned, do you know?”
Her bags are here…
“No.”
“Friends and family?”
That weedy, pathetic boyfriend. That’s who set this up. The spineless coward wasn’t going to see tomorrow. Not by the time I was done with him. “Her boyfriend, Penn Hargreaves.”
“As in Sebastian Hargreaves’s son?”
“Yeah.” I throttled the bike and took the corner hard. “That’s the one.”
“Hang tight, Silas. I’ll find her.”
“I’m counting on it.” I muttered and pressed the button, ending the call.
Something didn’t feel right. She had plenty of opportunities to run before, so why now? And if she was so Hell bent on escaping us, why not take her bags with her? I pushed the bike harder, heading back home while I waited for Kieran to do his thing.
I pulled up out front and climbed off before heading to the front door. It opened before I got there, leaving me to stare at the frantic expression on my brother’s face.
“Any word?” I stepped in, scanning the foyer.
“No.” He shook his head, his eyes wide and terrified. “I don’t know where she went.”
I walked inside, heading to her bedroom. Only I didn’t make it that far, stopping outside the open door to Gabe’s room and stared at the messy bed and her t-shirt hanging on the edge. “She stayed in your room?” I turned to face him.
My little brother’s cheeks reddened as he straightened his spine and looked me dead in the eye. “Yes.”
Did you fuck her?
The question roared to the surface. I clenched my jaw, driving the words back down my throat and tried to get a hold of the unmerciful rage that seethed inside me. Gabriel was far too invested, and now it seemed so was I. “What did you… say to her?”
“Nothing.” He shook his head. “I was in the kitchen making her breakfast when I thought I heard voices. When I came out the door was open…and she was gone.”
It didn’t make sense. None of it.
Beep.
I snatched my cell and lifted it.
Kieran: The boyfriend is on the move, sending you his GPS tracking link now.
A second later another message came through, this time with a link for me to click.
“What is it?”
I flinched and jerked my gaze up from the GPS location somewhere outside Benneton Park. For a second I’d forgotten about him…I’d forgotten about everything…except chasing her. “Nothing.” I turned around and started walking, heading for my bedroom. “Keep me updated if you hear anything.”
“Sure and you do the same.” His words followed me as I walked out.
But would I?
Maybe before seeing the messed up comforter entangled with her t-shirt. But not now. No, now I was going to make our brother understand—our lying, betraying fucking sister was mine.