“What do you mean?”
“You said they blew up the whole hotel—but the first blast came from the upper floors, or I wouldn’t have made it out. I was supposed to be on the eighth floor, but I always change rooms during missions. I book two, under different names. I check into one, then switch to the second in the middle ofthe night. Whoever did this didn’t know that, or they would’ve succeeded. Which means their plan had holes. They got cocky. Didn’t double-check. Thought they were good, but they weren’t good enough. And now I’m coming for payback.”
Chapter 12
Three weeks later
I take off my glasses and rub my eyes, exhausted from researching missing persons, when my phone buzzes with a message. Taylor’s name lights up the screen.
Taylor:Don’t stay up so late.
I smile, heart relieved at being able to do something as ordinary as texting my best friend.
For over a year, I was lost in a sea of worry, trying to imagine where she was, if someone had hurt her, or even if she was still alive.
Taylor Jarvis vanished into thin air.
At first, I thought maybe she’d had enough and just left. But it didn’t take me long to be sure that wasn’t the case. From the time we’d spent together, Taylor never struck me as the kind of girl who’d just walk away from everything. She didn’t even cancel her lease.
And now, almost a year since she was rescued—two years total since she was taken—I’m still working remotely and teaming up with so-calledinternet sleuths, looking for missing people across the country.
I get up to grab a coffee in the kitchen, and while I wait for the machine to brew my espresso, I’m already dreading the second part of my daily search on the unidentified bodies sites—the Janes Does.
It always leaves me depressed. I think about the thousands of families around the world who can’t identify their loved ones. Not knowing is worse than death. Death offers closure, rest, a grave to visit. A disappearance, like Taylor’s, is just a massive question mark. A void.
My friend, like so many other young women across the country, left work the day she got fired from the bar and was never seen again.
But I never gave up on finding her. I wasn’t going to stop until I had answers. Taylor had no one else looking out for her. Despite her millionaire boyfriend, William, showing up to talk to me in the first few weeks after she disappeared, I doubt he kept trying for very long. As far as I know, to men like him, girls like Taylor are disposable.
Leaning against the island counter, I glance at the dark living room and realize I forgot to turn on the light.
The darkness, as always, reminds me of him. Lucifer hasn’t shown up again—and I don’t just mean physically. After what happened that night almost two months ago, when I basically poured my heart out, he hasn’t even been following me.
Yes, I still have men watching me.
I’ve lived with these silent watchers for too long to ignore their presence, but I know Lucifer himself hasn’t been back.
At first, in those early days, I was panicked with worry.
Then I realized that if something had happened to him, the man who’s been watching me—or the men—would have pulled back.
Which means Lucifer is still paying them. He just doesn’t want to see me anymore.
After three weeks of total silence, I tried to move on. I even started dating someone.
It lasted less than five days. He was handsome, charming, sweet—but he suggested an open relationship.
That alone would’ve been a dealbreaker for me, but what really pissed me off was the fact that he forgot to mention a key detail: his suggestion came after he’d already biblically known another woman the day before. As in, lock the door—well, in this case, leave it wide open—after the house’s already been robbed.
I didn’t know whether to laugh or scream, because honestly, I didn’t feel a single ounce of attachment to him. I was already thinking about calling it quits.
Lesson learned: lukewarm isn’t good enough. Either it’s hot, or you’d be better off starving.
Getting hit with the suggestion of an open relationship by a guy whose kiss you barely liked? Peak absurdity.
I’ve decided I’m staying single until someone truly worth it comes along. A man who makes my knees weak and my heart race.
“Like him,”whispers a masochistic little voice.
