But I think the time for skirting the truth is gone. Now is the time for everything to be out in the open. Now is the time for her to understand that we aren’t just a choice.
We are inevitable.
I knock on her door.
No one answers, so I pound harder. After a minute of no answer, I kick the fucking piece of shit door in.
“Emmy?” I call out. “Emmy Rose?”
I storm around the apartment, but no one is here. Emmy isn’t here.
I dial Landon’s number.
“She’s not here,” I tell him. “Ask Claire and Tess where else could she have gone.”
“Fuck, shit. Okay, just a second.”
As Landon asks them, I scan the apartment again.
It hasn’t been touched in days.
I pull open the fridge, the freezer. Nothing much there. If Emmy was coming here for some clue about Janie, maybe I can find one myself.
In the bathroom, I root around in the medicine cabinet, but there’s nothing there but a toothbrush and mouthwash. In the drawers, I find more meaningless toiletry stuff. In the bedroom I pause, wondering if I am crossing a line.
“Hey,” Landon says into the phone. “The girls called her, and no one can get through. Tess is calling the hospital and Claire is calling the Detective now. Can you hold a sec?”
“Of course,” I tell him.
I pull open a dresser drawer. Panties and bras fill it, but it doesn’t get me hard, because I have no clue if this is Janie’s stuff or Emmy’s.
Looking around the room, I see two enormous suitcases on the floor by the closet filled with clothes and shoes. Emmy must still be living out of them.
I didn’t even notice them when we fucked here, probably because the only thing I noticed that day was Emmy’s gorgeous pussy.
I push Janie’s underwear aside and root in the back of the drawer. People hide things in underwear drawers, right?
In the back of the drawer I find a glass pipe that wasn’t been touched in a while. Next to it is a small balloon marked with a few Xs. I grew up a mafia boss’s son. I know a stash of heroin when I see it.
This is fucking great. Not only is Janie a lying sack of shit, she’s also an addict.
“Landon, you there?” I ask.
“Yeah, what is it man?”
“Grotto dealing?”
“I have no fucking clue what Grotto does. I thought he was mostly buying up property and fucking with you?”
“Anyone hear from Emmy?”
“Nothing. Want us to meet you somewhere?”
“Fuck, Landon. Where is she?” I ask, my heart beating fast, remembering the photo Grotto showed me of Trenton on the pavement, dead.
“I don’t know man. We have security looking all over the fucking city.”
“Call in more,” I tell him. Another call buzzes in. “Someone is calling me, I’ll call you back.”
I pick up the other line. It’s Stacy, the realtor.
“Hey, Ace, it’s Stacy.”
“Yea, is everything okay?”
“Just wanted to know if you’d been down at the property tonight. Just got a call someone had seen some lights on over there, and wanted to check since it’s getting late.”
I look at my watch. It’s already ten o’clock.
Stacy keeps talking. “When I was there yesterday with your friends they mentioned going back today with you after you got out of ... um ... well, custody, to really think through what you guys wanted to do with the building.”
“Yeah, we aren’t there, haven’t been there all day.”
“Okay, then, I’ll just swing by and turn the lights off,” Stacy says.
Holding the heroin pipe in my hand, my mind is on Grotto. Maybe he’s there.
“You know, I’ll have my security head over and take a look, make sure everything is in order.”
“Thanks, Ace. And is everything okay with the ... um ... arrest? I just know it might put your deal in jeopardy if word got out.”
“It’s under control. Grotto is fucking with me. But I’m taking care of him.”
I hang up, tossing Janie’s shit on the bed. If Grotto has done something to Emmy, I’m gonna fucking kill him.
I always hated the place I came from, but maybe I grew up in the mafia to prepare me for this day. This moment. I won’t let anyone take hold of my woman.
I call Landon to tell him where I’m headed, and to send backup if he doesn’t hear from me in an hour.
When I pull up to the building, I’m struck again by the size of this property, how we could turn this building into a fucking Vegas goldmine, if we just decided on what the fucking business was going to be.
Right now, though, all I care about is finding Emmy.
The parking lot is empty, but Stacy was right, there are lights on.