Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 81843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
My jaw clenches, and I rub it absentmindedly while taking in the neighborhood. Every block, every turn, is more of the same. Car alarms. Windowless buildings. Doors boarded with plywood and covered in spray paint.
Logic says to return to the expressway and head to the Brewer Group for my meeting with Gannon. I’m already behind schedule, and there’s work to be done. Instead, I whip a left and circle the block, finding a parking spot a short distance from Chloe’s building.
Chloe’s building.
Why in the world does she live here?
I rack my brain, wondering how much we pay her. Surely, it’s enough that she doesn’t have to live in this neighborhood. If it’s not, I just added another task to my to-do list. Pay people better.
I grab my phone and leave Gannon a message. “Hey, it’s Jason. I’m not going to make it over there this morning. Something came up. Have your assistant send me notes, and I’ll respond by the end of the day. Thanks.”
My breath is measured as I stare at the building. I give myself a final chance to back out. But even as I consider it, I know my decision’s already made.
I must make sure she’s okay.
Warm air hits my flesh as I step out of the car. I press the remote on my keychain, and the lock's beep catches the attention of a small group of men gathered around the back of a blue pickup truck. They cast glances at me and then at my vehicle as I pass.
Please don’t be ballsy enough to try to break into my car. I don’t want to kick your asses today.
I make eye contact as I walk by, giving them the slightest nod. It’s enough to acknowledge their presence and not enough to warrant a conversation. The look should be sufficiently pointed to keep them from getting too bold while I’m gone.
I’m bold enough for all of us, it seems.
What am I doing? I have enough problems on my hands. I need to get out of here.
Yet, I keep walking toward the Pliny Building.
My jaw sets as I correct myself.
I’m not walking toward the Pliny Building. I’m walking toward Chloe … because there isn’t any other choice.
Chapter 9
Jason
Despite its bleakness, the Pliny Building is a sensory overload.
Whiffs of stale cigarettes and burnt food overtake me as I enter the foyer. Canned sitcom laughter pours through the walls, drowning out the meows of the cat darting through my legs. Trash spills onto the floor from the bin in the corner.
I stand in a mixture of shock and awe at my surroundings—and at the fact that Chloe lives here.
This isn’t safe.
What the actual fuck?
My anxiety level rises, and my instincts kick in. I want to check for threats and secure the premises. Then I want to get my target out of here.
I rarely fight my instincts. But, today, I must.
The door swings shut in the distance, the sound rattling through the empty lobby. A long hallway extends before me, and another lies to my right. A front staircase splits the middle but is blocked off by yellow caution tape.
I spy a laminated map of the building tacked to the bulletin board by the stairs.
4A. Down the hallway and then up the back stairwell.
My senses heighten as adrenaline pulses through my veins.
Nothing about this feels right—the building, the man with a mustache watching me through an open door on my left, or the fact that I’m showing up to Chloe’s uninvited.
But the idea of Chloe being here feels wrong, too. And that propels me down the hall and up the rickety stairs until I’m standing in front of apartment 4A.
A wreath wrapped with pink flowers and vines hangs in the center of the door. It’s a startling contrast to the surrounding gray walls. It’s so Chloe.
Before I can decide my next move—something I should’ve already done—the door opens, and a woman with short, unnaturally black hair is staring at me.
“Oh.” She looks me up and down. “Who are you?”
Fuck. “I was just, uh …”
“Are ya lookin’ for Chloe?”
“What makes you ask that?”
“Because who else is a man like you coming around here to see?” She chuckles, aiming her head into the apartment. “Heya, Mabel. There’s a man here to see Chloe.”
“A man? What kind of man?” a voice calls from somewhere in the distance.
“A cute one.”
“Well, what are you waiting on, Greta? Send him in.”
“All right. I’m heading out now. See you tomorrow. Call if you need me.” Greta holds the door wide open. “Go on.”
I start to object and blurt out that I am leaving but stop short of it. I’ve come this far. I have to know Chloe and her grandmother are okay.
“Thank you,” I say, slipping by her.
I take a deep breath and assess the situation. A picture of Chloe is on a little table beside the door. In it, she sits next to two women and wears a happy, carefree smile.