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“Out,” is all Lee says.
“Doing what?” I grit out.
Lee sighs and pulls out another, smaller pocket knife, whipping it in and out of its handle. “He’s down the street at the basketball court workin’ through some shit.”
Working through some shitis code forhis past came back to bite him in the ass. But I’ll deal with that later. Right now, I need to get my girl back.
I take the picture of Maya at her apartment and toss it in the middle of the table so everyone in the room can see.
“I want all eyes on this entire complex. I want to know the property manager, the company who owns the buildings, her roommates—anything you can find. I want it all in my hands by tonight.” I don’t need a bunch of people calling the cops on us when I bust in Maya’s door and take her back. I’ll have to pay them a fortune to keep them quiet, but I have more than enough money to take care of that—she’s worth every single dime.
Everyone in the room nods. I look at Lee.
“Give me the address.”
CHAPTERSIX
MAYA
Well,I’m hungover.
I curse myself as I roll out of bed. The first thing I see is the bottle of wine sitting on my bedside table taunting me for being such a stupid bitch. I glare at it before snatching it off the table and stomping to the bathroom. I keep the light off as I upturn the contents of the bottle and listen as what’s left of the crimson liquid swirls down the drain.
My stomach begins to roil, and my head is pounding. I sit down on the lid of the toilet and hold my head in my hands.
“Why did I do this to myself?” I moan. I’m so glad it’s Saturday, because I can crawl back into bed and sleep this damn hangover off.
No. I can’t go back to bed because I have to pack, which is what I should have done last night instead of getting wasted.
Suddenly, all the events of the previous day come crashing back to me, and I want to curl into a ball and cry. Just when I’ve started getting settled into my new home, I have to leave. I thought it would be different this time. I thought I’d live here for a long time, meet someone new and start a new life, but fate decided it had other plans.
I push off the toilet, forcing myself to get the willpower to pack my things, and to tell Sarah that I’m leaving.
But first, I need food.
And a hot shower.
And coffee.God, I need coffee.
Fumbling in the darkness, my hand skims the cool tile of the shower wall until I find the valve, then I turn it until scorching hot water rains out of the showerhead. I don’t bother grabbing a change of clothes before I strip down and step into the hot spray. I yelp as the water pelts my skin, but after a few minutes, I embrace the sting. I close my eyes and sway, letting the steam ease the ache in my head and the roiling in my stomach.
I want to forget.
I don’t want to think about the days to come, because they’re indeed numbered. It’s only a matter of time before Ezra comes knocking at my door, and I don’t want to be here to answer it.
I’m surprised I wasn’t awoken in the middle of the night from the front door being kicked in, or shattering glass from my bedroom window. That must mean he still has no idea where I live, right? That means I might be able to have at least one last day of fun before I have to leave.
If I’m lucky, I’ll be gone before he’s able to find where I live. I just hope he won’t harass Sarah about me.
Once my headache subsides a little bit, I shower quickly, get changed, then go to the kitchen to make some breakfast.
And coffee. That’s most important.
The clock on the microwave says it’s one in the afternoon, and I groan, my head still throbbing. I didn’t expect to sleep in so late.
I make quick work of brewing a pot of coffee and making myself a small breakfast of eggs, bacon, and buttered toast, which is all my upset stomach can take right now. I don’t get drunk often, but when I do, it hits me hard.
When I’m done cooking, Sarah comes out of her bedroom looking fresh-faced.
