A second later, my best friend is on the phone recounting every airline she’s spoken to. “I think that’s all of them, Erin. Would he have chartered a jet?”
I blink. Gerard has never chartered a private plane to my knowledge, but he could certainly afford to. “I don’t know. Maybe. Oh God…”
“Listen,” Mallorie’s reassuring voice soothes its way into my ear. “It’s not ideal that she’s going back to Gerard, but let’s look at the positives… She’s only going for a short while, so she can see that idiot asshole boyfriend of hers. She says in her note she’ll see you soon. And Gerard’s her father. He isn’t going to put her in any danger.”
My teeth gnash. “I didn’t think he would ever put me in danger, but he did, Mallorie. He hurt me.”
“What?”
“He beat me. That’s why I left.”
“Are you actually joking?”
“Mallorie, you know I wouldn’t joke about something like that. I moved back home to live with my mother. You knew it had to be serious.”
“Fuck, Erin. We need to talk about this properly, but right now, for the sake of your sanity, maybe try to trust that he wouldn’t hurt his daughter. And we’ll get her back, I promise.”
“I’m coming home,” I say immediately. “I’m leaving now.”
Behind me, the mattress shifts. Augusto sits up, alert instantly, all sleep burned away.
“What’s happened?”
I hang up and turn to him, my vision blurring. “Paige is gone. Gerard sent her money. She’s going back to L.A.”
The words sound unreal as I say them.
Augusto is out of bed in seconds, already reaching for his phone. “When did she leave?”
I throw open the closet door and pull out my bag. “The early hours of this morning. Gerard sent a cab to take her to the airport.
“Fuck.” His jaw tightens. “I’m coming with you.”
“No, Augusto. The deal… You have to stay here and finish it. I can get back to the city on my own. I’ll be fine.”
His voice dips to subterranean levels. “I know you’ll be fine, but you don’t have to do this alone. I want to help.”
I start throwing clothes into the bag. “The best way you can help is to stay and finish what you came here to do. The rest…” I glance up, “we can figure out later.”
“One of our men can be at JFK within the half hour to do a search. She may not have departed yet.”
Having yanked all the clothes from the closet I start on the dresser. I may as well just sweep my arm across the bottles and jars knocking them into a trash can for all the delicacy I apply.
“How will they know who to look for?” I sound out of breath.
“I’ll send them a picture,” he replies, holding the phone to his ear. Seconds later, he’s talking to someone called Arrow and issuing instructions to haul ass to JFK and to look out for a photograph coming his way.
I have an idea. “I can ask Mallorie to meet him there. She knows Paige and could talk a statue down from a ledge.”
I thrust my phone at him so he can take down her number.
After Augusto has fired off more messages he digs into my bag and pulls out some clothes.
“I just packed those,” I say, exasperated. “I need to leave. I need to find my daughter.”
He glances down once then says, calmly, “You’re not dressed.”
I follow his gaze to the white, fluffy Winter Pines bathrobe I’m still wearing and yank it off with a huff.
