Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 111537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
“I don’t have a phone,” he responds.
“When you get a phone,” I allow.
“I don’t know if that would be smart,” he says.
I agree. The less I know about his location, the better. He can disappear, just like we did when he was a teenager. Maybe he can start a new life somewhere else, where he won’t have to look over his shoulder all the time. And maybe Francisco will solve the problem with the Andretti family, and Brandon will be free from that threat.
“I’ll contact you on social media when it’s safe,” I offer.
“Good,” he responds.
We hug awkwardly. It’s been a long time since we were close, and even now, there are so many reasons for being cool toward each other. I have my life, and he has his. Maybe at some point we’ll be able to mend the rift between us, but for the moment, I need to get back home.
I order another rideshare to take me back to the mansion.
“Are you sure you won’t come with me?” I ask my brother.
“No,” he says.
“What are you going to do?” I wonder.
“Walk into town,” he says. “Get a bus. Disappear.”
I sigh. I don’t even have cash with me to give him. I look down at my hands, wishing there was some way I could help him pay for his ticket. I have my wedding ring, but I can’t part with that. Luckily, I’m wearing a bracelet that Francisco bought me. It’s made of gold, so it should fetch a decent price if Brandon pawns it.
I take it off and hand it over. He doesn’t even try to stop me, simply folding it into his pocket for safekeeping. He kisses me on the cheek and waits until my ride shows up. I get into the car, feeling guilty for so many things. I don’t know how I’m going to survive without knowing that he’s safe. But he’s better off on his own, that much is obvious.
CHAPTER 50
FRANCISCO
We drive past the front gate and up to the house before I realize that I’ve got a text from Marlena. Where are you? It says. I figure I’ll just go in and talk to her before taking care of business.
“What do you want us to do with him?” Giovanni asks as we all get out.
“Leave him be for a minute,” I say. “I need to talk to my wife.”
Giovanni follows me inside, leaving Luca to guard the prisoner. There’s not much he can do from the trunk, but I wouldn’t put it past him. I’ll take care of him shortly, as soon as I ease Marlena’s fears. But when I go to look for her in her suite, she’s not there.
The window is open, letting the cool breeze in. I don’t like the looks of that. On a hunch, I lean my head out and see that the bushes below her room have been trampled. Furious, I storm through her room, demanding that she respond. When I can’t find her there, I go to her brother’s room.
He’s also missing, and his doctor is surprised by my visit.
“Where’s your patient?” I demand.
“I think he went to talk to his sister,” the doctor says.
I don’t even bother to dignify that supposition with a response. The doctor isn’t a bodyguard, so I can’t be angry with him. But I can take it out on Marlena’s actual guard, a man who should have known better than to let her climb out the window.
I charge back down the hall to Frankie’s room. He’s there, sitting on his couch, playing with his phone. He looks up, reading the scowl on my face, and gets to his feet.
“What’s wrong?” he demands.
“Is Marlena in here?” I ask abruptly.
“No,” Frankie insists. “I haven’t seen her.”
“Dammit!” I bellow, “Where the hell is her guard?”
“Downstairs, I think,” Frankie says.
I don’t wait for him to finish his thought, storming back out into the hallway and down the stairs. When I find the bodyguard in the living room, watching a game, I haul him to his feet. Before he can even ask me what’s wrong, I punch him in the face.
“You let her escape again!” I scream. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”
The man cups his nose, streams of red poking out from between his fingers. “She’s upstairs, boss.”
“She’s not upstairs!” I shout. “She went out the fucking window!”
“How was I supposed to know she’s a prisoner?” the bodyguard whines, backing away from me.
“She’s not!” I snap, losing focus for a second. “But you’re supposed to keep her safe.”
He doesn’t have an answer for that, and I appreciate his discretion in keeping his mouth shut. We both know that one insult from him would be the last thing he ever said. I look at it from his point of view and realize that he didn’t know he had to protect her from herself. It still doesn’t make things right, but I’ll deal with him later. Right now, finding my wife is what’s important.