“Fucking hell,” I groan, the bright sunlight streaming through the window waking me as it hits my face. Smacking my lips, I make a face at the rancid feeling in my mouth. Ugh. I am never drinking again. My liver does a little happy dance, while my brain rolls its eyes, knowing how unrealistic that statement is.
Patting the bed, my brows lower when I can’t feel Cruz. Cracking open my bloodshot eyes, I scan the room, but it’s empty. It doesn’t look like he slept in here. “Asshole,” I mutter, forcing myself into an upright position. He must have come home, seen the state I was in, and decided to sleep in the guest room.
Next time he’s had a few too many, I’ll do the same to him.
Wandering into the bathroom, I take care of business and brush my teeth, feeling more human now that the fur is gone. A shower helps to wake me up, and after I pop a couple of aspirin, the fogginess and dull ache lifts.
After slipping on a pair of jeans and a burgundy tank top, I tiptoe into the hallway and listen at the door. When I don’t hear anything, I fling it open, preparing to jump on the bed, only to find it neatly made.
Scratching my head, I wander into the kitchen, only then noticing the piece of paper stuck to the fridge with anI heart NYmagnet.
Mi Amor,
You are busy with your friends so I am leaving you this note.
I’m going out for a little while (it’s a surprise), but I will be back soon.
Te amo, Cruz
Icy fingers of dread slither down my spine. I last saw Cruz around lunch yesterday. He was going to work out with the Charon Group and Nate and Eric. I spin around, leaning against the island, my heart hammering with apprehension. No, no, no.
Racing to my room, I throw socks and boots on. Stuffing my phone in my back pocket, I grab my keys and tear out of the apartment. Not willing to wait for the elevators, I bolt up the stairs, my breaths tearing from my lungs in desperate pants.
I pound on Ryan’s door, then Jase and Kian’s, screaming their names. Ryan comes out first, his brows lowered. “Have you seen Cruz?” I shout, grabbing his arm, begging for him to say Cruz crashed on his sofa last night.
He shakes his head and I spin around, pounding on Kian’s door. He comes out a moment later, and I collapse in his arms, sobs racking my shoulders.
“Hey! What is it?” I can’t answer, an invisible band around my throat tightening.
“She was asking if I’ve seen Cruz.”
Kian pulls me away from him, his brows lowered. “Haven’t seen Cruz since yesterday after our workout.”
Sinking to the floor, my breath starts whistling from me. I can’t catch a breath. “Shit,” Ryan says, diving toward me. He pushes down on my back and orders Kian to grab a paper bag.
I breathe into it gratefully, but fear urges me to check the other apartments. I need to make sure he’s not here before I fully lose it.
He left you a note, he hasn’t disappeared again,I reassure myself. But that reassurance is fleeting because if he isn’t here, it means Vincenzo has him.
And I will paint the world fucking red if I don’t get him back.
Ten minutes later my worst fears are confirmed. Cruz isn’t here, and no one has seen him since yesterday. We’re gathered in my brother’s apartment, the girls awkwardly patting my shoulders or back while I alternate between sobbing and seething. Eventually, all of them give me a wide berth, which is for the better. They’re only trying to help, and I don’t want to lash out at them by mistake.
“Please,” I beg, my frantic gaze bobbing between Trey and Eric. “Find him.”
Their eyes meet, a silent conversation running between them before Trey hurries back to his apartment, grabbing his laptop. He’s got some specially made fucker that the government can’t track. Eric gets his out and clears a space at the dining table, which is still sticky from the margaritas we spilled on it last night. Eric flinches, obviously not wanting to put his laptop on it, and Rebecca jumps up to grab some paper towels and a bottle of cleaning solution. Tessa and Susannah help, clearing off bottles and bags of chips and pretzels, then wiping it down so we can all sit at the table.
I should help, but I stand frozen to the spot as conflicting emotions course through me.
Trey comes back and I sit between him and Eric, letting them do their thing. Eric looks up from his computer, glancing at each of us. “When was the last time you saw Cruz?” The latest sighting was around two p.m. His fingers fly over the keys while Trey checks the tracking software.
“Okay,” Eric mutters, and I lean over his arm to see the screen. “Here he is.” I watch on the cameras as Cruz leaves the Waverley Building on foot. He ambles down the street, not seemingly in a hurry. We lose him at the end of the block, and Eric hacks into the street and various store cameras to pick up his trail. As time passes, I pace the room, ready to explode at any moment.
When he’s done, we watch as Cruz wanders into one store, then another, before finally entering a jewelry store. Tessa gasps, her eyes wide as they meet mine, before turning back to the screen. Time passes, but Cruz never leaves the store.
Eric pulls up the blueprints and confirms there’s a back entrance for deliveries. “No cameras in the alley though,” he mutters as he keeps working. A black van rolls past, and the agent in me sits up in excitement.
“Wait! Go back!”
