Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
We had some time in, even if it wasn’t traditional.
And once we started getting intimate, yeah, there was no denying what was between us.
It was something real and rare and worth confessing, even if it was new.
So, yeah, I was fucking floating the whole way to pick up Goya from Brio.
He’d taken the dog to Central Park to blow off some extra energy along with a few of his own dogs.
“Sorry I’m so late,” I said as I walked up.
“Yeah, been late for woman reasons before too. I get it. And congrats, man. She’s a keeper.”
“Yeah, she is,” I agreed, taking Goya’s leash. “How’d he do?”
“Doesn’t seem to understand that little dogs can’t play as rough as he does. But he’s a good listener. Though, yeah, the squirrels are his arch enemies. Bout took my fuckin’ arm off. Which gives me an idea…”
“On that note,” I cut him off. I appreciated that the Family needed someone like him. But I generally preferred not hearing all the depraved torture techniques he had up in his head. “I gotta get some dinner for Blair.”
“Yeah, yeah, go enjoy your love nest, man.”
I was eager to get back to the safe house, to eat our food, curl up with Blair, and talk about our plans for the future.
So I swung by the Chinese place then we made our way back up the stairs toward the apartment.
“Excited to see Mom, huh?” I asked as he sniffed and scratched at the door when I reached for my keys. “Alright, bud. Calm down,” I said, opening the door.
Goya lurched forward, rushing into the apartment and going right behind the door.
My gaze slid to the table, finding Blair had set it.
But something felt wrong.
It wasn’t until I watched a stream of hot wax slip down the stick and land on the table, piling onto more steadily drying wax that I understood why the feeling was there.
Because Blair, lover of all things clean and organized, would never let wax drip and dry on the table.
It was then that Goya whined, making me turn to see him still behind the door, sniffing something on the ground with his tail tucked.
“What is it?” I asked, stepping closer.
But then I saw it.
Blood.
“Blair?” I yelled, running through the apartment. But I knew. I already knew she was gone.
The bag of Chinese food fell from my hands as I ran back through the house.
Reaching down, I grabbed Goya’s leash and pulled him with me out of the apartment as I reached for my phone.
“I’m working on it, man,” Zeno greeted on the third ring.
“Zen, she’s gone. I need the footage from the camera at the safe house.”
“Blair’s gone? Maybe she just took the dog for a walk.”
“I have Goya. And there’s blood on the floor.”
“Fuck,” Zen hissed. “I’m working on it.”
“I’m on my way to you,” I said, hailing a cab and climbing inside. “I need to call everyone. But if you find something, call me back.”
With that, I gave the cab driver Zeno’s address as I called Leo.
“Yo.”
“They took Blair,” I said.
“Fuck. Okay. I’ll spread the word. What do you need from me?”
“Meet me at Zen’s.”
“Okay. Will do. Listen, we’re gonna find her.”
“Yeah. We have to.”
I let Leo handle the rest. Then I just sat, mind racing, for the whole drive back to Zeno’s place.
“Zen!” I yelled, banging on the door when I arrived.
He slid the locks and let me in.
“Look, it’s not good news.”
“Zen, I don’t want to hear that.”
“I saw the shadows coming up the stairs, but they must have clocked the camera before they came all the way up. All I saw was a ducked head in a baseball cap before the feed cut.”
“God damnit,” I snapped, swinging an arm across his desk, sending paper coffee cups flying.
“I’m working on it,” Zeno said, dropping into his chair as Goya walked around the room, whimpering for a moment, then dropping down onto his bed, looking defeated. “There’s gotta be cameras on the street around there.” He was mostly talking to himself.
“Sorry, bud,” I said, walking over to Goya to give his head a pet. “I’m gonna find her, okay?”
Goya huffed, putting his head back down and refusing to look up again.
Feeling useless, I paced Zeno’s apartment as he clicked and mumbled, trying to find me something.
Half an hour passed.
“Hey, we’re gonna get her,” Leo said, appearing at my side. His hand shot out, grabbing my shoulder, and giving it a squeeze.
“We have to,” I said, jaw tight.
Leo was on a constant loop of phone calls as Gav and Cesare showed up, offering their assurances.
But they were all empty.
None of us could do anything.
Except Zeno.
Who had a wild look on his face as he hit roadblock after roadblock until…
“Got it!” he declared, making my stomach flip as I rushed over toward his desk.