Series: Cobalt Empire Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 234
Estimated words: 226965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1135(@200wpm)___ 908(@250wpm)___ 757(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 226965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1135(@200wpm)___ 908(@250wpm)___ 757(@300wpm)
“All of you stay here,” I tell them as Eliot unbuckles too.
He reluctantly nods. “As you wish.”
Beckett locks eyes with me. “Let us know if you find her.”
“Yeah, I will.” The car rolls to a dead-stop, and as I grab the handle, Oscar says, “Wait for your bodyguard. The other vehicle is stuck at a red light.”
I don’t have time to wait. Shaking my head, I open the door.
“Ben!” Oscar yells, and I just barely hear him mutter, “Novak is going to love this,” before I launch myself toward the brick apartment complex. It’s about a third the size of the luxury high-rise I’m living at. Chunky AC units stick out from windows, and the fire escape looks rusted.
Less than a minute later, I’m inside the echoey building and waiting for an elevator. I’m so focused that it takes me a second to realize Charlie has strolled up next to me. Oscar lingers behind, speaking hushed in a mic at his collar.
I frown at my brother. “I told you to stay in the car.”
“And I didn’t. Whoops.” His sarcasm surprisingly doesn’t grate on me. I have a feeling he jumped out of the car so Oscar could follow. So I could have security by proxy just being around him. Still, he’s being eyed by a young white woman who grabs mail from a brass 92 box. I figure she’s trying to place where she knows Charlie from.
He notices her, then holds out his hand to me. “Give me your hat.”
I pull my baseball cap out of my back pocket and unfold it into his hand.
Putting it on, he dips the brim down over his eyes. It’s not a great disguise, but not the worst either. I study him. How he angles his body but strangely braces more weight on his right leg—the one he’s had surgery on. And are his knees wet?
Since he wears black pants, I can’t tell exactly, but glass had been scattered all over the parlor, so… “Are you bleeding?”
“It’s nothing.” His cold gaze is cemented on the elevator.
Oscar sends Charlie a seriously concerned look. I wonder if he’s already spoken to my brother about the issue. Because Oscar remains quiet, then faces forward again. They have a closer relationship than I have with Novak, and it’s not strange to think Oscar might know things about my brother that I don’t, considering he’s with him nearly all day, every day.
We don’t say anything else. Not even when we reach Harriet’s apartment.
I knock on the door, my pulse on a fiery ascent.
Maybe it’s good Charlie is here. If he did something, he can apologize. He can make it right…not that he’s ever been good at either of those things.
No one answers. Shit, she has to be here. I don’t know where else I would search otherwise. I run a hand through my hair and knock again. The door swings open to reveal a tall girl in a polka dot pajama set. Her dark bangs are pinned back with silver clips, and her eyes go as round as her mouth.
“Oh my fucking God.” She’s staring right at my brother, and it’s almost laughable how bad my baseball cap hid him.
He forces a tight smile.
She gasps like he dropped on one knee.
“You’re Eden, right?” I cut in. “Harriet’s roommate.”
Her jaw drops even farther when she swings her gaze to me. “You know my name?”
“Is Harriet home?” I ask as Eden opens the front door wider for us. I step inside, but my brother stays back like he’s some immortal vampire who hasn’t been invited in yet.
“She’s not here,” Eden says, quickly pulling out the clips from her hair. She brushes her bangs down with her fingers.
“Can I check her room just in case?” I ask.
Eden frowns. “She sleeps on the couch.” She points to the lumpy lime-green sofa in the middle of the living room. “She’s renting the pull-out.”
My stomach nosedives. I’m sleeping on a couch too, so I don’t know why Harriet crashing every night on one is driving more worry into me. I also don’t know why I assumed that she shared a room with her roommate. Like a dorm. Bunk beds…I never actually went into the bedroom, I realize.
“Do you know where she could be?” I ask.
Charlie’s leaning a hip in the doorway, listening to everything. Probably analyzing all the ways in which I don’t know Harriet that well. But he’d be wrong. So I didn’t know she was sleeping on a fucking couch? She doesn’t know I’m sleeping on one too. It doesn’t mean anything.
“Noooo,” Eden draws out the word, her eyes pinging from me to Charlie like she’s etching this in her memory. “To be honest, I don’t talk much with Harriet. We kind of keep to ourselves. How do you know her anyway?”
“College,” I say vaguely, then I remember something. Harriet lived out of her car. If she needed to go somewhere more private than a shared living room, I bet it’d be there.