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“She probably went on vacation and forgot her phone,” my brother snapped. “I don’t have time for this—”
“Make time,” I snarled. “Paradise, you said? What would you do if yours went MIA for a fuckingweek?”
He went silent, and then he cursed under his breath. “He’ll be at least one of them in less than an hour. Hang tight.”
The line went dead, and I placed the phone back in my pants. “One hour,” I announced. “If no one shows up, medical it is.”
The minutes ticked by, and around twenty later, Russo burst through the door to our wing, muttering profanity under his breath. “The fuck you want, Ricci?”
“Fucking Russo,” Durante laughed, and Russo shot a glare at him before he turned back to me.
I gave him a pointed look, the same one I gave him every time I had to cash in a favor. He groaned, running his hands across his face. “Really? You’re going to get me in a lot of shit, Ricci.”
“It’s important.”
“It’s always fucking important,” he let out a harsh breath, his keys jangling as he wrenched my cell door open. “What is it this time, huh? Rival family insult you or some stupid shit like that?”
I lifted my chin. “Would you consider it important if your wife went missing, Russo? Her name is Mia, right?”
His lips thinned.
“Yeah? Feel that fucking pit in your stomach at just the fucking thought? That’s been me this past week. Try stewing with that for seven fucking days, Russo, unable to do shit to help her,” I snapped.
He stepped inside my cell, shaking his head at me, and for the first time, he had sympathy in his eyes. But I didn’t want his fucking pity.
Russo decked me.
My head jerked to the side from the impact, and I smirked, tasting the copper tang of my blood on my tongue.
“If anyone asks, I’m taking you to medical,” he muttered as he cuffed me, looser than usual.
“Us too,” Luca demanded.
“If you three keep this up, they’ll send you to separate prisons,” Russo snapped. “Is that what you want?”
Silence.
“Anyone else’s girl missing?” Russo inquired.
No one answered.
“No? Then shut up and sit there,” he snapped, tugging me from my cell.
Russo’s boots thudded against the concrete floor, and my sneakers squeaked in protest at our fast pace. He led me down the hallway, slamming the isolation wing door behind us as he walked toward medical.
I quickened my pace as I rushed behind Russo. “Sorry about this,” I warned him before launching myself at him, jumping him. I clocked him as hard as I could behind the head, and he let out a harsh breath.
He crashed face-first on the floor. I slipped out of my cuffs, took his badge, and ran for the nearest exit. I didn’t have time for theatrics or outfit changes.
I had to get to her.Now.
I had minutes before they triggered the alarm if I was lucky, but that was if they saw me immediately. It was a shift change that bought me more time than usual.
The guards who liked staring at their phones were due to come on shift, so I had a chance.
I scanned Russo’s card through the doors, going as fast as I could, my heart pounding as my blood ran cold at the possibilities running through my mind.
Was she dead? Had Mark gotten to her? I saw that she had no calls from him in a while. I thought it was because I had scared him off, but apparently, that might not be the case.