Page 133 of Under Your Scars

Elena is the strongest person I know, and to see her so deep in her depression kills me inside, because I know I am the root cause of it.

Two days before Travis’ wedding is the first time I leave her alone for more than a few minutes.

I’ve got a lead on Valenti.

As much as I don’t want to leave her alone to chase it, I have to. Of course, the only other person I slightly trust with her safety is Gavin, so I’ve given him the most important assignment of his life: keeping watch while I go out for a few hours, under the guise that I’m going to the office.

In reality, I’m headed to the East Side.

I was passing by the security room in the mansion yesterday when I noticed that there was an active call on the same street as the Hellfire Lounge. Or what’s left of it.

The call was regarding two arrests for Indecent Exposure. A nobody with a few extra Benjamins in his pocket was caught fucking a woman in an alleyway. The man is of no consequence to me, but I recognize the woman, even from her mugshot.

She’s the bartender I choked unconscious the night I killed Valenti’s friends. I found out through public records that her name is Riley Lau. If she’s turning tricks in the area, she might know someone who knows someone, who knows a friend of someone else who knows where Valentimightbe hiding.

It’s a big fucking stretch, but at this point, I’m desperate.

Dressed in my Silencer gear, I find a lowlife who looks like he could use some extra money. I shove a thick stack of hundreds in his hand, hold a gun to his head, and tell him to go bond out Riley and instruct her to meet me in the same alley she got arrested in.

He took the stack of money and one look down the barrel of my gun and did what I asked. It’s almost two hours later, but Riley comes around the corner, going rigid when she sees me. Then her gaze turns hungry as she saunters towards me, swaying her hips seductively.

“What an honor,” she says. “I knew you’d come crawling back to me.”

“I’m not here for your services,” I hiss. “I need information.”

She eyes me, unimpressed, and holds out her palm. I slap a stack of cash in her hand. And then another. And then another, until she finally stuffs the money in her bra before crossing her arms.

“What do you want to know?”

“Frank Valenti’s whereabouts,” I demand, like I already know her answer, even though I know jack shit. I won’t get the information I want by asking nicely.

She sighs heavily and sticks a piece of gum in her mouth, chewing it obnoxiously. “I think he’s still on the island. He was paranoid about banks, even offshore ones. He only ever dealt in cash. He kept it all hidden around the Hellfire Lounge. All his money burnt to the ground along with the club, but I’m sure he had stashes in other places too. He was paranoid, but he wasn’t stupid. I don’t know where he is, but I don’t think he would leave the island. All the people in his pocket think he’s still rich and powerful. He can’t buy that influence anywhere else.” She shrugs. “That’s all I know.”

“You’re sure? You haven’t heard anything about where he might be?”

She shakes her head. “Sorry. Maybe ask some of the other girls that were close to him. He kept his dick wet. There was Kate and one other…she wasn’t there long. Elena! Her name was Elena. Short. Brown hair. Really innocent looking. Frank was obsessed with her.”

I scoff.Thanks for fucking nothing.

I leave her in the alley without another word.

I’m bent out of shape about people thinking Elena’s still working for him, but it’s comforting to hear that no one has made the connection between her and the Silencer, except for maybe Kate, but we haven’t seen her since Elena was in the emergency room.

My phone rings with a text. I expect it to be Gavin. He’s meant to give me updates on Elena every fifteen minutes.

But the text is from her.

Elena: I have an emergency.

I’m in such a rush to get back to her that all rational thinking goes out the window. I risk getting myself shot by sneaking onto my own property as the Silencer and crawling through the damn window of our bedroom. I use my administrative override on the security systems to force restart them. They’re down just long enough for me to get inside without raising any alarms.

I’m panting and sweaty when I land with a thud on my hardwood floors, gun raised, ready to shoot anyone that’s not a five-foot-tall brunette.

My eye twitches when I spot Elena standing in the center of the room between two rolling racks of designer gowns. She gives me a sheepish, guilty smile.

“I guess I could have worded that text better.”

I let out a relieved breath. “You fucking think? Jesus fuck, Elena, you gave me a heart attack.”