“Yes, please, I know,” I cut her off. “But this is life and death. Please, help me,” I pant. Exhausted from the physical exertion and emotional strain. The young woman with bright green eyes and olive skin stares at my face alarmingly before finally giving in.
I touch me cheek tensely, and it stings the moment I make contact.Shit, I idly wonder if it looks as bad as it feels.
“How can I help you?”
“You have a guest, Gerard Parish. Can you please call him? I don't know what room he’s in.”
As she looks Gerard up, I sneak a peek at my face in the mirrored wall at the end of the desk. I wince at what I see. The entire side of my face is swollen and red and already showing signs of bruising. Dima’s pistol whip was no joke.
“I’m sorry, miss. There’s no answer.”
“Can you try again?”
“I tried three times.”
“Fuck.” I ball my hands into fists and press them into my forehead.
“Is there someone else I can call? The police, perhaps?” She treads lightly, concern written all over her exotic features.
“No, they can’t help.”
“Is there anything I can do to help you?”
I stop and stare at her. “Do you know where I can get a burner phone?” The request is preposterous, I know, but I had to try.
Her concern morphs to suspicion. “I, unfortunately, do not.”
“Thanks, anyway.” I back away, realizing her patience and compassion for me is running thin.
I walk out into the center of the lobby at a loss. All the people coming and going are making me dizzy. I don't know what else to do. Where else to turn. I’m drowning in quicksand, and I have no idea how to save myself. Or Damon, if he’s even still alive.
Resting my hands on my knees, I breathe deeply, heavily. Attempting to calm my racing pulse and fanatical thoughts.
“Livey, honey? Are you all right?” For a second, I think I hear my father.
“Daddy,” I nearly cry, but when I look up, it’s Gerard I see. I fall to pieces as soon as our eyes meet.
“They took him.” I collapse into his arms.
“Took who?” He catches me, whistling into the air. Gerard helps me to the nearest lounge chair and crouches right in front of me. When he gets a clear look at my cheek, he curses. “Liv, what the fuck happened?”
I cover my face and sob, trying to explain everything with broken sentences. “Knuckles took the money . . . and we figured it out too late . . . Lev and Dima took him . . .”
“Oh, shit, call Ky,” Gerard orders. I look up to see who he’s talking to. Fender is standing beside us with his phone by his ear. “Do you have any idea where they might have taken him?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know their pattern. My father would be the one—” I stop when a recollection hits.
“Give me your phone.” I reach up to Fender. He looks at me like I'm nuts.
“It’s kind of in use.”
“Tell Ky you’ll call him back.” I stand and snatch it from him, disconnecting the call.
“Hey, now. I’m going to get my ass chewed for that.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll take all the blame.” I search the app store like a lunatic until I find what I’m looking for.
“Can you please?” I hold up the phone to Fender so he can approve the download. With a facial scan and double-click I have it.
