CHAPTER 5
AVA
Kilner Investments takes up the top ten floors of a high rise in the buzzing financial district of the city.
By the time I stand outside that modern, glass covered monstrosity I’m already royally pissed after having to ride the subway and walk way too far to get to it, in the freezing fucking cold in nothing but jeans and my shitty, short leather jacket.
I was half frozen and moving even more stiffly than usual since the cold did not agree with my weak muscles and aching legs.
I used to love the buzz and hustle of this insane city when I was younger.
When Colt moved me there form the quiet life I’d been living before, it was like this whole other, amazing, exciting world and I adored it.
Even when I left I’d gone to Chicago because I needed the thrill of a hectic city around me.
I never felt more alive than when I was walking the packed sidewalks, taking in the smalls of the food and the city around me.
Sure it had it’s drawbacks, but they were never enough to take that thrill away from me.
I had been a true city girl. Even after the attack and with the anxiety and issues I dealt with as a result.
Then I was shot and the packed sidewalks were nothing but a damned inconvenience to me as I tried to hobble my way past people to get where I needed to go.
The noise I used to love, hurt my head now and I hated the fact all of my happiness had been stripped away.
It was just another constant reminder that I was no longer the person I used to be.
So yeah, I was pissed as I walked into the polished entry way and made my way to the elevators.
I didn’t even want to think about the epic battle I faced just to get back to where I had left my car in the parking lot of one of Colt’s restaurants on the outskirts of the city, knowing I’d never get parked any closer.
I stepped into the elevator and instantly cringed at the music playing overhead.
It was something classical, not that I knew anything more than that, but I did know it was making my already throbbing head hurt more.
Four people followed me in and I just managed to lean around a suited figure to hit the button for the twentieth floor before three more piled in, instantly making me feel uneasy in such a crowded and compact space.
It wasn’t that I was claustrophobic, but I just felt uneasy when strangers were so close to me, especially in a contained space I could barely move enough to protect myself within.
I was relieved when I stepped out on the reception floor of the company I was ther for and finally felt able to breathe.
“Ava, is it? You’re Colt MacMillan’s sister aren’t you?
” I spun at the voice and came face to face with the suit I’d needed to lean around to hit the button in the elevator.
He was older than me, and closer to Colt’s age.
His hair was brown and greying at his temples, and his suit looked tailored and expensive.
I studied his face hard, knowing it was familiar, but unable to place him.
“I am. I’m sorry. You look familiar but…”
“Oh it’s fine. We only met once at some charity function you attended with your brother years ago, but you’ve barely changed, while I became an old man,” he chuckled.
“I’m Gibb Neaverson. Colt and I went to college together once upon a time.
Is he with you?” Gibb looked behind me like he expected Colt to be there, and I wished with everything in me that he was.
“No. It was you I was looking for though, I think,” I told him with a forced smile. “Do you mind if we talk briefly?”
“Of course. Come to my office. Can I get you anything? Coffee or water?” he offered as he led the way deeper into the building and behind the reception area.
He seemed kind and friendly – the kind of guy Colt usually befriended.
Surely this guy and this company hadn’t sent that thug to my apartment for Colt?
That made no sense, but if it wasn’t about the money, then who was that guy?
And whet on earth did he want with my brother?
I shook my head politely as Gibb ushered me into a huge corner office and imdicated for me to sit on one of two winged back leather chairs that sat before his huge, antique looking desk.
“Thanks,” I uttered as I looked around the office. It was just as expected. Panoramic wondows on two sides overlooking the hectic city, shelves filled with books and filing cabinets. A computer sat on his desk beside framed photos, a stack of files and a pot over filled with pens and pencils.
“So, tell me what I can do for you, my dear? Have I missed a message from Colt?” Gibb asked lightheartedly as he sat back in his luxurious office chair behind the desk.
“I…I found this in Colt’s office,” I said as I unzipped my backpack and pulled the contract I found from it. “You, or at least your company loaned him a lot of money?”
Gibb leant forward to take the contract, barely looking it over before he looked to me.
“What’s going on. Is Colt alright?” he asked, genuinely looking concerned.
“That’s what I’m trying to find out. Can you tell me when you last saw my brother?”
“We had lunch last Tuesday. Colt wanted to thank me for setting this up. We ate at the French place just around the corner.”
“So you did loan him the money he needed?”
“Yes. The I.R.S. froze his assets because of some contrived investigation. He came to me for advice and I helped him get the money he needed to keep everything running until he got his assets back, which he did last week. That was why we went to lunch. He repaid everything he borrowed and just wanted to thank me, not that it was necessary,” Gibb explained, and my stomach sank.
If the guy at my place didn’t want Colt for money, what the fuck did he want him for? “Is Colt in some trouble?”
“I don’t know,” I sighed as I gave in and rubbed at my aching neck tiredly.
I was too worried to worry about how I came across any more.
“He’s missing. He called Mason to say he was coming to visit me in Chicago, but he never arrived and we had no plans.
Now he’s just gone. You’re sure he hasn’t contacted you? ”
“No. I haven’t spoken with him since last week, which now I say it, isn’t like him. He usually texts me at least once a week, even if it’s just about football. Have you spoken to the police?”
“Yes, he’s been reported missing, but they have no leads yet,” I answered. My stomach was churning violently at the realization that I had no idea what or who Colt was involved with. Was he dead already? Was I too fucking late?
“Are you alright. Can I get you some water?” Gibb asked.
“No, thank you. I’m fine. Do you know if Colt had a girlfriend?” I asked as I forced myself to just breathe.
“No, not that he mentioned to me. As far as I know, it’s been years since Colt dated,” he told me.
“Do you know of anyone in his life with he initial K.M?” I pushed rather desperately.
Gibb took several moments to think about my question, which I was grateful for, since it gave me time to take enough breaths to stop my mind from spiraling to the darkest places about what had become of Colt.
“We were pretty close with a Karen in College, but her surname was Bloom. She could have married since though? Last I heard she was working in tech, but I don’t have any more details.
His head chef at Garretts is called Kevin?
I met him last time we were there, but other than that I can’t think of anyone else,” he shrugged as he looked to me with a mix of sympathy and concern.
I grabbed a pen from my bag and scrawled what he’d told me on the palm of my hand shakily. It was likely nothing, but I’d look into it anyway.
“Thanks. You’ve been really helpful,” I told him as I got to my feet and almost fell right back down again. Why the fuck was a shaking so badly now?
“Please call me if there’s anything I can do.
Colt is one of my closest friends. I’ll do all I can to help find him,” Gibb said as he rounded the desk and handed me his business card.
“And please tell him to let me know he’s safe when you do find him,” he added as he placed a hand over my forearm and looked to me with conviction.
I admired his confidence that Colt was safe somewhere, but I wasn’t feeling it right then and I definitely didn’t want to be touched.
“I will,” I assured him, my words wobbly.
“Thanks again.” I barely got the last words out as I rushed from the office as much as I could and straight through the door that led to the stairwell.
There was no way I could get down twenty floors, but I just needed some space because I knew I was coming apart at the seams.
I was barely thinking as I all but fell down the first set of concrete steps to get away from the office above.
I was hort of breath and crying by the time I reached the next set and colla[sed down onto the top step.
I slammed my metal stick to the cold floor at my side and buried my face in my hands.
Right there, in that moment I wasn’t any of the things I pretended to be. I was strong, or brave or fucking capable! I was scared and alone, and the only person I wanted to reach out to – the one person who I ever allowed to see me at my worst like that, was gone.