Checking the live feeds, I search the building high and low for Jonathan. But I don’t see him anywhere. Rushing to grab my spare walkie, I listen foranyindication that my employees are aware of an escaped prisoner.
But there’s nothing. Just the usual chatter about moving inmates and tedious nonsense.
And no Velle. He’s missing in action.Just like Dascha.
A fleeting thought flutters through my mind…
What if he and Dash ran away together?
No, that wouldn’t make sense. Jonathan is too loyal. Tome, yes, but also to this island.
To hispartner.And his… Harley.
I’m buttoning my shirt back up as I saunter across the hall to my office.
When I get there, I call Kent. “My office.Now, please.”
I hang up, pacing for just a few seconds.
If Dash escaped the prison, he would likely head directly for the ferries. Stow away on one, use it to get him back to New York. It’s the only logical plan, and go fucking figure, one just so happened to be leaving right around the time he got out. Meaning he could beanywherein New York right now.
The reason I’m not freaking out right now—if anything, Imightbe buzzing with anticipation—is because this calamity could be just the thing that gets me what I want…
My pet back.
While I wait for Kent, I call Mateo, and instruct him to go to Dascha’s house and look for him. Not five minutes later, Kent stomps in.
I’m draining a glass of scotch while I tell him, “Dascha Reznikov is gone.”
Kent’s eyes widen. “Do we know where…?”
“Not yet,” I rumble, pouring another drink. “But we will. In the meantime… when Officer Chevelle finally decides to grace me with his presence, let him right in. And I want no interruptions underanycircumstances. Got it?”
I actually witness Kent gulp. It’s as rare a subtle display of emotion as it is a sign of empathy. That evenheknows what my pet is in for.
The punishment of a lifetime. Enough to ensure that heneverleaves my side again.
This is exactly what I needed. Something to bring him back to me.
The sun is setting to the sounds of a motorcycle engine. I sip, and I wait, listening to the whirring engine, imagining him riding that beautiful piece of machinery all over this island.Delaying the inevitable.
And while I wait, patiently brimming with restless need, I think back to when I got it for him…
A prisoner had attempted escape on his watch. Dove off the cliffs and impaled himself. Naturally, I was furious, and there was one person I knew could bear the burden of blame.
Flashes of the memory come in and out…
His uneasy blue gaze is dropped. I grab him hard by the face, forcing him to look at me. Our eyes connect, and I can seeallof it. Every moment that’s led us to right here and now.
“I failed you,” Jonathan stammers. “I know I did. So badly, and I want to say sorry because Iam, not because I have to. I’m sorry, sir. Will youpleaseforgive me…?”
I am purely captivated by the way he’s looking at me right now. Like I could slit his fucking throat, and he might actually thank me for it. Apologize for bleeding on the rug.
It makes me feel like a fuckinggod.
My heart is pumping faster than usual as I remove the collar from my desk drawer and command, “Everything off.”
He hesitates, because I usually leave him in his pants, or boxers, at least in the beginning. But this time I want him bared.
