She winked at me. “Told you I’m competitive.”
I rolled my eyes, though I was smiling. “Yeah, sure Gnomes. Go pick up your sprigs. We need to get them in water ASAP so they don’t go into shock.”
I watched her bound away to collect the flowers she had cut and forced myself to take another deep breath.
Everything was fine. Cal would tell me if he was in danger… wouldn’t he?
Knowing how he always took on the role of protector, I really didn’t think he would. But it didn’t matter. I had no idea where he was and had no way of finding him. The only thing I could do was hope that he reallywasalright and would come back as soon as he could.
Knowing this, however, didn’t alleviate the deep, aching feeling of terror that was beating through my limbs.
Please be okay, Cal.
Naomi needs you.
Watching Naomi walk toward me with her arms full of hydrangeas, I realized that Naomi wasn’t the only one who needed him. Not anymore.
Ugh. I was so fucked.
Alexa, play: Eyes On Fire - Zeds Dead Remix - Blue Foundation, Zeds Dead
Ifucked up.
Zanetti was gone when we got back to the movie theater. I didn’t know how that was fucking possible when we had been away for less than twenty minutes. How the fuck this man had disappeared into thin air in the middle of the day, I had no idea.
Vox was pissed.
Okay, maybe not pissed, but he was stressed. We were back in the Wagon, and he was running the algorithm we had planted on Zanetti’s phone to see if we could find where he went.
The man’s wife was even missing, which was either very good or very bad.
“Maybe they just bailed on the movie together,” I muttered half-heartedly, and Vox shot me a vicious glare.
“Yeah, yeah. I know.” I sighed. Dropping my head back against my seat, I groaned.
Fuck.
I shouldn’t have gone to see Ryan.
Damian was going to be so fucking pissed.
Suddenly, my phone buzzed.
Slipping it out of my pocket, I found a message from an encrypted, unknown number.
Flicking it open, my heart sank.
It was a picture of our mark who wasverydead. He had a tattoo machine rammed in his eyes, with the words:Too slow, got him!
“Fuck,” I muttered, showing the phone to Vox. His face went white, and I cringed as he punched the steering wheel in anger.
He rounded on me, shoving a shaking finger in my face.
He didn’t need to speak for me to understand what he was saying.
This was all my fault.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered, feeling like shit. Vox punched the steering wheel again before dropping his head back and running his hands down his face in frustration.
