Page 72 of I Would Beg For You
“Carson.” I give him a head nod. “What are you doing here?”
He waves my words with a slow sweep of his hand. “Later. She’s in upstate New York. At a place called Pineridge.”
“Which is?” I look from him to Anya.
She bites her lower lip, a mask of fury descending on her features. “It’s a mental health facility.”
I blink. This doesn’t make sense. “What?”
“Her father has her on a seventy-two-hour psych hold,” she says, nostrils flaring with rage. “I couldn’t reason with him. I tried—”
“You knew?”
I’m taking a step toward her when she puts up a hand and pushes my shoulder.
“Of course I didn’t, you asshat. You think I’d let this happen?”
“No need to resort to name-calling,” Carson states drolly.
Funny how I’ve heard this line twice today. Once in jest, now in… I don’t even know what.
“What happened?” I bite out once more. “Naomi doesn’t have any mental health issues.”
That I know of… Could it be I missed something?
“It’s not a voluntary commitment,” Carson adds. “We know this much.”
“The bastard,” I mumble. “Wait until I get my hands on him!”
“Get in line. Declan is already frothing at the mouth, too.”
I squint at the man, and it suddenly clicks. “You work for him, too.”
“It’s a long story, but yes.”
“Gentlemen, can we focus?” Anya asks as she moves to the living room where she settles on the couch next to Carson. With a chin nod, she indicates the seat across from them.
I sit down on the edge and lean forward.
“How do we get her out?” I say.
“Declan’s working on a plan. And it involves you,” Carson adds with a glare over the top of his glasses before I can jump up and say this is happening over my dead body.
“What can we do now?” I ask instead.
“Declan will be in touch soon. Until then, we wait.”
Right. As if that’s gonna help anything. I slam my fist into the side of the armchair, the pain radiating in my fingers a welcome distraction. Everything inside me is churning, waiting to upchuck itself, for the upheaval that will change this status quo.
I sneak in a deep breath. “Do you know what happened?”
“I think so,” Anya says.
“Go on,” I urge. Anything to pass the time, to get closer to the minute Reeves will call.
“Now that I think of it, Naomi’s not really been herself lately.” She pauses and fixes me with her stark gaze. “Nothing struck you as unusual?”
I force my mind to think back. Nothing did… “Her texts have been a bit sporadic.”
