Page 34 of The Italian Reckoning (A New York Criminal Empire #3)

ROCKY

“ S arah!” Kicking down her door, the wood splinters and creaks then finally gives way under my foot. “Sarah, are you here?”

The moment I saw my bike missing, I called Sarah. But she didn’t answer. She also didn’t answer in the thirty minutes it took Domenico and me to drive here. She didn’t answer as I climbed the stairs to her apartment, and she still doesn’t answer as I charge inside.

My heart pounds like a drumbeat in my skull, my hands tremble, and my anxiety spikes too high. It's like I’m about to shake apart at my joints. I can barely breathe as I sprint from room to room, slamming open doors and pulling open any cupboard large enough to hide a person.

There’s no sign of her.

Breathless, I arrive in her study where Domenico stands in front of Sarah’s investigation wall, his face grim.

“Any sign?” I gasp, hoping Domenico somehow found something I missed.

“No,” he says stiffly. “Are you sure she would be here?”

“Yes. Yes, I called her and I told her I was coming to get her. It’s no coincidence that my fucking bike is gone and she’s nowhere to be found.

” My trembling fingers repeatedly miss the redial button until I grit my teeth and glare down at my device.

I hit the button and the call starts, only to end up once again going to voicemail after five rings.

Nothing.

The world falls away and for a few seconds, I exist in a freezing cold vacuum.

Sarah is gone. Did that fucker get his hands on my bike?

But how is that possible? Is it someone I know?

No. I don’t recognize the sketch. But there are too many pieces here that there has to be some sort of connection.

There’s no way Sarah would just go off grid without letting me know.

Not after we?—

“Rocky.” Domenico’s hand lands on my shoulder and grounds me back in reality. “Talk to me.”

“You don’t think…” I glance up at him and when our eyes meet, I see the same thought in his eyes that I can’t vocalize. Saying it out loud makes it far too real, and I can’t stand that. If he has her, if he somehow managed to get his hands on her again, I’ll never forgive myself.

“Facts first,” Domenic says calmly. “Talk me through it.”

“I called her. Told her I would pick her up. That was hours ago. My bike is gone and she’s not here. Is it a leap to think that bastard somehow got my bike?”

“Given the circumstances, I think a leap is what we need right now,” Domenico replies. “This wall is insane.” He moves away from me to Sarah’s evidence wall and tips his head back and forth as he examines everything. “These are his victims?”

“Mmhmm. Sarah included. He’s been quiet for five, almost six years until now. It’s like he finally tracked Sarah down and wanted to remind her that he was the one that got away.”

“Alright, before you panic, we need to rule everything out.”

“Like what?” I snap with more heat than Domenico deserves.

“You need to make sure she’s not with friends or family.”

“Her family is back in Montana.”

“I can make a call. It’ll take some time,” Domenico says. “Anything else?”

“No friends except work—she could be at work!” It’s a long shot and something deep down tells me it’s useless, but Domenico is right. I have to exhaust all possibilities before jumping to the worst scenario. Even though that scenario blares like a siren at the forefront of my mind.

We leave Sarah’s apartment after a search for her cat, but I can’t find Iris anywhere. I hope that’s not a sign.

The drive to the police station is achingly slow and I nearly take the desk sergeant’s head off when he acts like my presence is somehow a great hindrance to the entire police department.

Luckily, Domenico is able to pull a few strings and talk to cops he knows personally, and their answers tell me what I already know.

Sarah isn’t here.

No one’s seen her since she wrapped up her shift hours ago.

Fuck.

Fuck !

Outside, the night air feels thin and no matter how deeply I breathe, it doesn’t seem to be enough to satisfy the air I need. My head spins as too many thoughts collide with one another, and despite Domenico’s attempts to calm me down, they are not enough.

We’ve searched her home and her work. She’s not answering calls.

At the bottom of the steps where Sarah once accosted me for harassing her witness, I stand with my back to the police station and my heart hammering wildly in my chest. He has her.

Somehow. I don’t know how, but I know it’s a fact.

Domenico steps away to take a call and when he returns, the look on his face speaks a thousand words.

His contact in Montana did a check-in with Sarah’s distant relatives. No one has heard from her.

“What do I do?” I scan Domenico’s face for answers but find none.

“You do what you are good at,” he replies, his voice soft. “You find her.”

Finding her isn’t something I can do alone, and the prospect of facing my father and fighting for help turns my stomach. So I call the only person who pops into my head who might help.

Cormac Gifford.

He agrees to meet me at the Black Ox in half an hour, barely needing to hear any details about why I need to meet him so late at night.

He’s thankfully already there by the time I charge through the door and nearly knock Hazel clean off her feet.

“Hey!” She yelps as my shoulder clips hers. I catch her by the waist and duck the tray flying in her raised hands, spinning her into Domenico as I pass.

“Sorry!”

I leave Domenico to apologize properly and make a beeline for Cormac’s table. He greets me with a tight smile and slides a glass of Scotch across the table to me as I sit. I down it in a single gulp which causes him to raise his brow.

“Wow, you’re having a bad night, huh?”

“You’ve no idea,” I gasp around the burn of the alcohol streaking down my throat. “I have no right to ask you this, but Cormac, fuck, I need your help.”

His brows crease with concern. “Talk to me.”

“It’s Sarah. I… I know in my gut that this sounds insane, but that fucking serial killing prick has her. I know he does!”

Cormac’s eyes darken as he frowns. “Tell me everything.”

So I do.

I pour out every detail of Sarah’s history with that fucker and pray she won’t hate me for spilling her secret.

I detail the months she spent working on his case and tracking him until she became one of his victims. I’m light on the details of her torture, but I make it clear that she died by his hands and was brought back by some unexplained medical fluke that makes her the one that got away.

Domenico joins us as I explain the connection between what happened to Mary and Sarah’s sudden disappearance, including my missing bike.

By the time I finish, I’m breathless, and my knee bounces so hard that my thigh aches.

“Shit,” Cormac breathes. “What are you thinking? That he stole your bike?”

“Maybe.” I run my hand back and forth through my hair.

“She knew my bike, man. She knew me and if he turned up like that, I’ve no doubt she’d think it’s me and climb on.

It’s the only way I can think she went with him because there were no signs of a struggle at her apartment.

And she’s careful, she’s so fucking careful, but… ”

“Not with you,” Cormac finishes.

I nod tightly. “Is this my fault? I made her lower her guard, I made her feel safe, and she might have just walked right back into his arms.”

“No,” Cormac replies grimly. “From everything you’ve told me, this guy is calculated. He knows what he wants and he’s clearly been watching her if he’s bold enough to call her. We’re not dealing with a gangster here.”

“And he has what he wants,” Domenico says quietly, his brow furrowed. “Which means he’ll be hiding.”

“Please!” I lean across the table and just refrain from grabbing Cormac’s hand. “I need your help. If anything happens to her I’ll never forgive myself. I’ve already let her down and this is just… please, I need your help. I have to find her because I?—”

I love her .

The thought whispers softly through my mind, and unbearable tension tightens across my chest.

“Of course.” Cormac leans forward and he does take my wrist. “Rocky, you saved my life. Anything you need, I’m here to help.”

“Thank you,” I gasp, and for the first time there’s a hot sting of tears behind my eyes. “ Thank you .”

I love her.

And I’m losing her.

If he hurts her, I’ll never be able to forgive myself.

“So,” Cormac says firmly. “Where do we start?”