Bruno and Paulie exchange a glance.
"What?" I ask sharply.
"Nothing. It's just..." Bruno chooses his words carefully, the way he does when he thinks I won't like what he has to say. "You've been saying she's seeing someone else. But what if you're wrong about that? What if something actually happened to her?"
"Then she can call the police. Or her father. Or literally anyone except me." I finish my drink and reach for the bottle."I'm done being her puppet, done dancing when she pulls the strings."
"Boss—"
"I said I'm done." I stand abruptly, needing to move. "Deal me in, I'm staying here."
We play cards for a while. Drink. Talk about business—the shipping contracts, the usual concerns. Normal conversation that should distract me. But I check my phone every few minutes, unable to stop myself.
No new texts from Liana. Nothing.
She's realized I'm not coming, that I'm not playing her game anymore.
An hour passes, then two. We're deep into a hand when I lose track of what cards have been played. The nagging feeling in my gut gets worse with each passing minute, growing from a whisper to a shout.
What if Bruno's right? What if something actually happened and I'm sitting here playing cards while she's—
No. She's fine. She's probably home by now, probably laughing about how I didn't come running like she expected. Probably planning her next move in whatever game she's playing.
Three hours after the initial text, I can't take it anymore. The doubt has grown into something I can't ignore. I pull out my phone with hands that aren't quite steady.
Me: Are you okay?
I hit send and wait, staring at the screen. The message delivers successfully. But no read receipt appears. No three dots indicating she's typing a response.
I wait five minutes, counting each second.
Nothing.
Ten minutes pass.
Still nothing.
"Something wrong?" Bruno asks, noticing my distraction.
"She's not responding to my message."
"Maybe she's asleep. It's late."
"Or maybe she turned off her phone because she's pissed I didn't come running when she wanted me to." I stare at my screen, willing it to light up. "Or maybe..."
Maybe I was wrong. Maybe this wasn't a game.
The thought sends cold dread through my chest. I pull up her sister, Gia's contact. She might actually know where she is.
Me: Is Liana home?
The response comes back quickly, almost immediately.
Gia: No. I thought she was with you. Why?
Fuck. Fuck.
Me: She texted me hours ago. Said she was at the port. Being followed.
