I glance at my father and see him looking at Jude just as hard as me, but instead of the disapproval he normally wears, he’s staring at him with pride.
Typical.
“Let him go, Jude. He’ll realize his mistake soon enough.”
I chuckle and step back into the hall. This isn’t a mistake, but I don’t bother telling them that. Everyone seems to be so far up his ass they can’t see what I see. All they want to do is please him—make him proud, but this isn’t the way to do it.
Most dads want to see their sons go to college, win a baseball game, or marry and start a family of their own. But not our dad. He only wants to see how far he can push us to do his dirty work.
His sense of pride is based on how long our track record of being criminals is. How many times we’ve bought our way out of arrests, how many lives we’ve taken, and most of all, how much money we make him.
I’m sick of living life under the thumb of someone and only doing what I’m told. I was raised to break the rules, so why is this any different? I shouldn’t have to be tied to someone who only thinks about their own gain and nothing else.
I’m fucking done.
I go back down the stairs, across the foyer, and out the front door. Slipping back into my car, I start it and focus my mind on the only place it’s seemed to be the past few days.
Arloe.
I want to see her. No, Ineedto see her.
* * *
I whip my Bugatti in front of her building and hop out before I fully shift into park. An anxious energy washes over me as need and desire to be where she is takes control. I’ve never felt like this before, hell, I’ve never been allowed to.
I’ve made mistakes, followed my father’s orders to a T, and before now, I didn’t question him. She’s changing me; her infectious personality is the contrast I need from a world of death and destruction.
I hit the button on the elevator, almost ready to curse it for taking so long, but it dings and opens up. Stepping inside, I check my watch then glance at my phone. I find it odd that my dad hasn’t tried to reach out. It’s been less than an hour, but he hates losing control almost as much as I do. I assumed he would be calling, or even have a sibling call to do his groveling for him, but everything has been quiet. Too fucking quiet.
The doors open on Arloe’s floor, and I squeeze out of it, not wasting time waiting for it to open completely. I need her right now. Her touch. Her smell. Her taste. I need to be consumed by her and let go.
When I stop in front of her apartment, I knock, glancing down while I wait to be let in. I kick the corner of her welcome mat, letting the skewed corner fall back to where it belongs. At first, I think nothing of it. A kicked-up corner is insignificant. But as more time passes and she doesn’t answer, fear builds in my stomach, snaking its way to my chest.
“Arloe,” I shout, knocking again softly.
I press my ear to the door and see if I can hear anything. Maybe she is in there and last night was just too much. She’s changed her mind and can’t handle me for all I am. But those thoughts are quickly erased when silence falls on the other side of the door.
I try the knob, but it doesn’t turn, so I take a step back, check both sides of the hall to make sure I’m alone, then kick it in. A crack sounds out when the door is forced open, and small wooden chips fly from the frame.
Straightening my suit jacket, I move inside quickly and inspect her place. Everything seems normal, but when I look at the counter, I see her phone. I search for a purse but can’t find one. So maybe she had someone else pick her up and she just forgot her phone. Maybe I’m thinking too far into this.
I step into the hall, close her door the best I can then ride the elevator down again and slip back into my car. Luckily, the bookstore isn’t far from her place, so within minutes, I’m pulling behind where she left her car parked last night.
I see the other girl who works there peek out the window, smiling as I turn my car off, and it gives me hope I was right. I’m simply overthinking and worrying about nothing.
Hitting the button on my key fob, I lock my doors then stroll through the door of the bookstore. Greer, I think her name is, is already waiting at the counter for me with a smile.
“What brings you in today?”
I raise a brow. “Arloe. Where is she?”
Her smile falls the tiniest bit as her head tips to the side. “She’s off today. I assumed she was with you until I didn’t see her get out.” She points in the direction I parked.
“So she hasn’t been in today at all?”
She shakes her head. “But because she is off, I’m not surprised. Try back tomorrow morning. We have some inventory to do, so she may even be in a little sooner.”
I nod and thank her then leave the same way I came in. As soon as I’m on the sidewalk, heading toward my own store, I dig the cell from my pocket and dial my dad’s number.
