Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
The vehicle begins moving and he pulls on my seat belt as though he truly cares.
Why on Earth would Doc Junior care about me?
I guess I’m about to find out.
Caius
I know I look like a fool carrying a doll, but it’s evidence. It’s hers. This is the closest I’ve been to her in twelve years. I’m so close I can taste it.
Once back outside, my phone buzzes. I expect it to be S, but it’s Romy instead. I’ve missed a call from her as well while inside the restaurant inspecting the doll.
Romy: Come back. Help me. Theo drugged me.
I read the message several times. Her text doesn’t make any sense. I’d left both her and Kaitlyn asleep. Theo wasn’t there.
How long have I been running around seeking answers, though? A lot could’ve happened.
Whatever it is, I need to get back. I try ringing her, but she doesn’t answer.
Me: What do you mean he drugged you? Explain.
The message remains unread, which has dread pooling in my stomach. I try to call my brother, but he doesn’t answer either. What had been a brisk pace is now a jog as I head back toward the hotel. The second I get a chance to change shoes, I’m putting something a little more comfortable on. Running around the city wasn’t in my original plan when I left early this morning.
I pull up the tracker app I have on Romy and see that she’s still at the hotel. It gives me peace of mind that I’ll be able to solve her mysterious text soon. Just as I’m about to put my phone in my pocket to focus on not slamming into someone, I see the dot begin to move.
She’s leaving.
What the hell?
Is Theo taking her somewhere?
I take off in a full-on sprint, ignoring my blisters that are probably bleeding at this point. Wherever he’s taking her, I’ll find them. I don’t know what’s going on, but I don’t have time for this shit. Not when I am hot on Calista’s trail.
Her movement isn’t quick like in a car. She seems to be walking somewhere. Maybe she was just feeling off from our endless night of fucking. Theo probably did show up and the three of them are off to have a late breakfast. He most likely got past her grumpiness by offering to get her that pumpkin-flavored shit she drinks.
That’s it.
They’re just going to breakfast.
Even though my brain is trying to assure me, my chest feels tight. Something’s wrong. Deep down, I don’t believe that’s what’s happening at all.
I see her dot move on the app, taking her past a diner that would’ve sufficed for a breakfast stop. She also goes past a coffee shop. Wherever she’s going, she’s in a hurry.
Then I see her go into a pawn shop.
Why would Romy need to go to a pawn shop?
I nearly stumble once my brain unravels the most likely reason. The engagement ring. She’s pawning it. Why?
Cash, dumbass.
Was the text about Theo a ruse to trick me?
Did she assume I’d rush back to the hotel to check on her, only to find an empty hotel room? By then, she would’ve pawned the ring and been out of town in no time flat.
Unbelievable.
Last night, she had me convinced. There was something deep within us both connecting us. And she could just sever it like it was nothing?
That can’t be right.
But she’s at a pawn shop.
The hotel is in sight, and even though I want to rush up there, I ignore that need, going toward the pawn shop instead.
Once I reach the pawn shop, I’m panting heavily, but thankful to see the dot is still there. I nearly crash into an abandoned grocery cart filled with random crap some homeless person left. With a curse of frustration, I sidestep it and then fling open the pawn shop door.
Where is she?
I look for her blond hair and lithe frame.
Nothing.
What the hell?
A man in many mismatched layers of holey clothes and who reeks of body odor eyes me warily. I narrow my eyes, zeroing in on the phone sitting on the glass countertop between him and the pawnshop worker.
It’s Romy’s.
“Where did you get that?” I demand, stalking over to him. “Answer me, dammit.”
The man holds up two filthy, glove-covered palms. “Don’t know what you’re talking about, man. This shit is mine.”
Right.
“You mugged my fiancée?” I hiss, shoving him backward. “Where is she? What did you do to her?”
“I found it,” the man counters back. “Didn’t touch no bitch for it either.”
I snatch the phone off the counter, ignoring the protests of the homeless man, and take off back out the shop door.
Please be at the hotel, love.
My mind races the whole way back. I don’t bother trying to call her since I have her phone, but I do blow up both my brother’s and dad’s phones, to no avail.