“Is that supposed to scare me?”
“You’ve been one lucky motherfucker all these years. Don’t think that your luck won’t run out.”
I was more afraid of Grace taking matters into her own hands if I didn’t do something about Mateo. She had already killed once to save herself. Murdering Mateo out of pure hatred because he was a pimp was something entirely different. Grace would be the one going to prison. But I couldn’t snitch on Rosario. I wouldn’t do that.
“Grace is fine for now,” I said, walking away. “I appreciate your concern, Ted, but I can handle my own shit.”
“You’re making a mistake, Duke.” He raised his voice over the truck’s loud engine as the driver pulled up to the valet.
I was probably fucking up, but until I could think clearly, I wasn’t making any move to bring Ted into the fold.
26
FALLYN
ALIAS: JOY
My ears were still pounding after a jam-packed night filled with partygoers and drunks. I was exhausted as I climbed the stairs to Duke’s office. Every step required more effort than the previous one. Physically and emotionally, I was one big fucking mess.
I was still processing everything that had happened at the charity gala. I’d been on edge the entire week. If I was serving customers at the bar, I was on autopilot. Too much was happening at once.
I’d heard enough at the gala to know that Mateo had kidnapped Grace Hart and Alexa Mendoza. The BPD gang unit was out looking for Mateo, Rosario was officially in Boston, as of last night, and Duke had made himself scarce.
We knew that Duke and Rosario planned to meet with Mateo, but what we didn’t know was the date, time, or location of the meeting.
On the flip side, I was trying to reel in my emotions. Duke had said a lot to me on the dance floor at the gala, indicating he had deep feelings for me. But we never had the chance to talk about it further. After Grace had been taken, it was like I didn’t even exist to Duke.
Sighing, I knocked on Duke’s open office door then entered.
Sitting on the couch, Vince glanced up from his phone.
I held up the sales report. “It seems Matt gave me the permanent job of being the messenger.” I deposited the paperwork on Duke’s desk next to a sticky note with some scribbled words—two exits,junk,S. Boston.
Vince cleared his throat. “How were sales tonight?”
“As usual for a Friday,” I said. “Is Duke around? I haven’t seen him since the gala.”
“He’s in his apartment. I would leave him alone. He’s been quite ornery all week.”
I anchored my hip against the desk. “Any news on Grace? I understand the BPD is on the hunt for Mateo.”
“Nothing yet.” His nonchalant attitude was a dead giveaway that he knew something. Of course he did.
“I’m sick over Grace’s disappearance. I hope the police find her soon.”
He was cataloging my features, as though trying to read my mind. “We have many folks scouring Boston for her.”
I didn’t want to pepper him with too many questions, or he might become suspicious.
I flicked a thumb over my shoulder, stealing a look at that note again and for anything else on Duke’s desk that might give me a clue. “Do you mind if I see Duke before I head home?”
Vince loosened the knot on his red tie. “Make it quick.”
I wound my way down a somewhat dark hallway, not sure what I had in mind. I knew Duke wouldn’t tell me about Grace or Mateo or anything about his business, but I had to try. Not to mention, I was worried about him. I knew he would go to the ends of the earth for his sister, even die for her, and I wanted to help him. I wished I could come clean and tell him I could help.
I poked my head into Duke’s contemporary bedroom, which had a manly feel and was designed in reds and blacks, from the art on the walls to the bedding.
“Duke,” I called, stepping inside.
