Page 174 of On Edge

Two weeks pass, and I’m still fine, but I’ve thrown myself into work that doesn’t involve this house or her and her damn family, and Mundel stops complaining.

But really, it’s anything to stop thinking about the way she bites her lip when she’s nervous, the way her pink tongue dartsout begging me to kiss her when she’s concentrating hard—that crease in her brow when she’s mad at me, even. The chirpiness of her voice, no matter how horrible I may be to her. Her goddam beautiful pussy just asking to be devoured….

Fuck, there I go again.

Honestly, all I need is to walk past a vase of lavender, and I’m ready to get on my boat, find her, and drag her back home. There was a day I actually got halfway across the lake, until I cut the engine.

Ishouldhate her.

And I need to stop using that wordshouldbecause every time I do, I think of her, then I want a drink, and then that turns into a bottle. Before long, Mundel has banned me from video calls and external meetings until I start shaving and turning up for work sober again.

Two weeks turn into three, and I stop doing anything Ishouldbe doing. The phone rings with unknown numbers, and I ignore them. The messages pile up, but I don’t care to read them; there’s nothing anyone can say that will bring her back. Kathy continues to bring me meals I don’t eat; they all taste like cardboard anyway. Mundel brings reports, but I barely skim through them; nothing seems to catch my attention.

At least Ben has stopped waiting by her door.

At least, he’s given up.

That’s when I realize, I haven’t. And I need her like blood in my veins. Without it, I’m slowly turning into a corpse.

“I’m going after Richard.”The words come out flat and final. If I can’t have her, then I’m going to kill the bastard who took her from me. I should have killed him years ago, but I was keepinghim for last; he was the reason I was breathing, living, going through the motions. And now, he’s the reason I can’t fucking function anymore.

I’m going to carve him six ways from Sunday.

And I’m going to enjoy it.

Mundel looks up from his tablet. He’s playing that stupid fucking game again, Roadkill Crossing, or whatever the fuck it is. “Oh, when?”

“Tonight. I’ve let this drag on long enough.” I pull out my case of razors, all six since the seventh is in the damn lake. “The deal is dead. Grayfleet is gone. Nothing is holding me back from cutting him to ribbons.”

“Don’t you think we should plan it like the others?”

“No.”

“What about…”

I turn away before he can say her name. I don’t want to hear it. Can’t.

“She’s out of the way and safe, that’s all that matters.” I know she went to her friend’s house in Whitechapel. I have a satellite that can take aerial shots, and a few days after she arrived, I caved in and looked. She was fine, walking on the common with a friend. She doesn’t need me at all.

I’m shoving my weapons into my bag when my phone buzzes. This time, I look at it. It’s another missed call from an unknown number.

It rings again.

I’m about to silence it when a text comes through.

This is Laine. Sage’s friend. Pick up your fucking phone.

My blood goes cold.

I call back immediately.

“Finally!” I don’t know Laine, but her voice is edged with panic. “I’ve been trying to reach you for weeks!”

“What happened? Is she alright?”

“Gone. Her father took her.” The words hit like a storm, turning my world upside down. “A week after she arrived, some men just showed up at my house and took her. I called her house, and her mother said Sage was having a breakdown and needed to come home. I would have sent Jaxon, but he’s away for work. My cousin is detained. You’re the last one I could think of.”

“Address?”