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I can’t. I can’t stay here. With him.
He orchestrated it all. Had to.
Why else would he have threats that haven’t been sent?
And Amelia? Did he actually threaten and try to harm my cousin?
But she wasn’t mentioned on that piece of paper, nor were the brakes on Dad’s car.
Fuck.
No.
I can’t be here. I can’t.
“But he’ll find you.”
The words tumble from my lips.
He clearly wants me here for a reason, one that has nothing to do with sex, and everything to do with power. But if I stay here, he’ll seduce me, or maybe I’ll actually try to kill him. And I honestly don’t know which is worse.
And he knows my address.
“Lacey?” Does he know about her?
I have keys to her apartment in Columbus Circle. I quickly pack a bag and call to let her know I’m heading there, leaving a voicemail when she doesn’t answer. “Lace, I need somewhere to lay low. I’m coming to your place.”
And with that, I leave Malone’s and don’t look back.
During the morning rush hour, it takes me almost forty minutes to get from SoHo to 59th Street. There are delays and the subways are crowded. When I get out to finally breathe the fresh air, there are five missed messages on my phone. I don’t recognize the number, but they’re all from the foreman.
I call him back as I make my way to Lacey’s building on 62nd Street.
“Ms. Hanlon, sorry to bug you. But I’m looking for your father.”
“I thought he was there or at the main office.”
“No one’s seen him. Or your uncle.”
That uneasy feeling returns, twisting my gut. “Can I help you with something?”
There’s a pause, and the noise and shouts from the working dock filter through as I twist the key into the lock on the front door of Lacey’s building. I climb the stairs to her tiny third-floor apartment, waiting for him to answer.
“Did they say where they’d be?” he finally asks.
“I haven’t spoken to them.” And I haven’t. Not since before we saw Amelia. Guilt pummels me along with the unease, leaving a slick, ugly residue inside of me. “But I’m going to head to Dad’s shortly.”
I hadn’t planned on it, but now… now I think I should. Check to see if Dad left a note, or I don’t know, if he’s so snowed under he needs my help.
But it’s also not like him to ignore me, and I can’t imagine why he’d ignore the foreman.
What if something happened to Dad?
I remind myself those threats came from that liar Malone, and if the intent was to hurt him, he’d have already done it. No, he’d need to keep my dad alive; otherwise, he’d have no leverage against me. The man’s trying to manipulate us. No. He’s not fucking trying. He already has. And it ends now.
“Can I relay a message in case he’s there?”
“Sure.” The guy sounds pissed off, but I give him a pass. His job’s to make sure things move quickly and smoothly. So, if there’s an issue he needs Dad or Grant for and they’re not available, I don’t blame him for being salty.
