Chapter Twenty-Two

Troy

There’s nothing like driving in the darkness with music blaring, not knowing where you’re going, just driving on through the black nighttime air. That’s what I’ve always done to relax.

And until now, it’s always done the trick.

Tonight, though…well, tonight’s a different story. And I have a feeling that I could drive until the first rays of dawn appear, and it wouldn’t make me feel any better. I’ve never felt so many emotions at once. Or at least, I’ve never been so angry that I can barely focus on the road.

How did things with Joslyn get so fucked up? Over and over. It’s like I can’t even think of other words. Her name keeps running through my head. As my tires churn the Nevada asphalt, my mind churns Joslyn’s angry words.

I know I can’t go home. What the hell would I do? Lie on the couch and pretend like it’s a normal night? The idea seems ludicrous. And as much as I’m tempted to grab a twenty-four pack of beer and see just how many cans I can drain before sunrise, alcohol isn’t going to fix my problems.

Hell, nothing is going to fix my problems. For the first time in my life, I feel like I’m responsible for something horrible that I’ll never be able to undo.

When my phone buzzes in my pocket, I pull over to the side of the road and swipe open the call. I don’t even care – nothing is going to feel the same anymore, so why bother? And I just know that Nixon is going to hear about my colossal blowout with Joslyn and forget about considering me for the vice president job. With my luck, he’ll give me that look of disappointment that I despise.

“Hello?”

“I’m calling for a Troy Cass.” The unfamiliar man’s voice confuses me.

“Yeah. Who is this?”

“It’s Jim Monroe.” Monroe. Joslyn’s father? He sounds panicked. “Do you know where my daughter is?”

“No. Not really. The last time I saw her, she was at the Armónico, standing inside the parking garage and pitching a fit.”

“The security tapes show her leaving hours ago,” Jim says. “She’s not home, she’s not at the studio, she’s not at her women’s shelter. You sure you haven’t heard from her?”

“Why would I have heard anything?” I feel more than a little annoyed. “She probably went home to go yell at someone else.”

“I’m worried something happened to her. And she’d told me a few days ago that she was working with you – training for that American Ninja thing, or whatever. Are you sure you haven’t even gotten a text or social media alert? Do you think she went to stay with a friend for a few days?”

“No, I’m sorry, but I have no idea where she is. Maybe she’s just not answering her phone, or maybe she went out for a run. I know she likes to run in the desert when she’s upset about something.”

And that something is me.

“She spent over an hour in her gym by herself.” Jim’s voice grows more hysterical by the minute. “Why would she go for a run right when she got home? She has to be exhausted.”

“I don’t know.” And I don’t as I grasp at straws, trying to keep my distance. My annoyance starts to fade and my stomach twists when I realize that if Joslyn’s big-wig father leaks panic and fright, something might actually be wrong.

“Can you please try to look for her? Please?”

“Have you called the police?”

“I can’t,” Jim says. “If something happened, trust me, they won’t get involved.”

My heart slows to a dull, horrible thud in my chest, and suddenly, I have the sick feeling that Jim is right.

“You mean you think Dante is involved?” Could it be possible? “Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”

“Please, you have to do something,” Jim begs. “I can’t let anyone hurt her – not again. Please Lord, not again.” His voice breaks. “Please, please say you’ll help me. I couldn’t live with myself if something else happened to my baby girl because of me.”

“Okay. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure she’s safe, and I’ll have her call you as soon as I find her.”

“Thank you.”

I can tell that Jim’s holding back tears and my heart breaks for him as we hang up. Throwing my phone to the side, I shove my car into gear and do a fast spin on the deserted highway, pushing my foot to the gas pedal until it touches the floor.

I feel like I can’t drive fast enough as I race past Vegas and towards the luxury community where Hawk lives. I’m so sorry, Joslyn. I grip the steering wheel with both hands and push my old car faster and faster until I feel like I’m flying through the night. Adrenaline floods my body, and I know that if Hawk can’t help me, I just lied to Jim Monroe. There’s no way I have a snowball’s chance in hell of finding Joslyn without his assistance. A slice of anger bites the inside of my chest, but not directed at Joslyn. I’m infuriated with myself for pushing her away, for not realizing that Dante Giovanetti posed a real risk to her safety.

And now if something happens to her, it’s my fault. For the second time in my life, I will have failed Joslyn Monroe. Plus, I know that Dante doesn’t believe in playing games. If he hurts Joslyn, she likely won’t walk away alive.

I just hope that crazy software is bug-free by the time I get to Hawk’s.

Pulling up in front of his gate, I press the button and yell Hawk’s name until the light flashes and the gate crawls open. My leg itches to kick the gas and break it down just so I can get inside faster.

“Come on, come on.” I shake my fist as the gap becomes wide enough for me to steer through. Before they’re open all the way, I press down on the gas pedal and push through. There’s a loud squeal, followed by the crunch of my headlights breaking, but I don’t give a shit. Racing through the community, I park in Hawk’s driveway and rush up to his door.

Hawk stands in the open doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. “Man, what the hell? What’s going on?”

Grabbing his arm, I drag him inside the house and slam the door behind me. “I have a feeling one of your neighbors is going to call the cops on me for breaking that gate. But that’s not important right now. I need to use that thing – that software – that you showed me last time.”

Hawk scratches at his chin. “If you’re asking to take it to impress Nixon into giving you a private office, it’s not ready yet. And I’ll need some time fine-tuning it before–”

“It’s not about Nixon.” I push past him. “Come on, a woman’s life is at stake here!”

Hawk gives me a strange look but obediently walks over to the wall with the Frank Lloyd Wright print and slides it to the side before punching in the key code. When the secret door opens, I rush downstairs. Hawk follows behind.

“Okay, you have to tell me what’s going on.” He walks over to the touch-screen table and swipes his hand across the surface until the golden map of Las Vegas appears.

“Joslyn Monroe is in trouble.” I examine all the dots. “Her father called me in a panic, he thinks something happened. That Dante has her.”

“Like what? I mean, have you tried calling her?”

Hawk’s calm and rational behavior usually makes me respect him, but right now it’s enough to make my blood boil. I make a fist and slam it down on the table.

“Dante Giovanetti did something to her. And we have to find her. The cops won’t get involved – Dante’s got them all wrapped up in his pocket, so we have to act fast if we don’t want her to get hurt.”

“Okay, okay.” Hawk fires up the software, and I can barely hear the buzzing over the rush of blood in my ears. “Man, calm down – take a deep breath or two, okay? Freaking out over this isn’t going to help Joslyn. It’s like airplanes, right? You’ve got to put on your own oxygen mask before you can help others.”

“Fuck my oxygen mask!” I yell. “Find her!”

Hawk’s eyes get wide, and he nods. He types in her mobile number, and sure enough, the map zooms out, then back in over what looks like an abandoned building on the outskirts of Vegas. There are four golden dots, and three of them are moving around in a circle.

“That’s Joslyn.” Hawk points to the unmoving dot.

I stare for a moment, waiting to see if she’ll move.

“What does that mean?” I ask in a blind panic. “Is she dead? If she’s not moving, is she dead?”

“Man, I told you…you have to calm down,” Hawk says. “And I don’t know. But the warehouse is here.” He scribbles down a set of coordinates and hands me the paper. “And if you want to rescue her sans the authorities, that’s where you’re going to have to go.”

“I have to go.” I yank the paper away from him. It feels like the whisper of hope on a prayer in my hands. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Hawk stares at me, sizing me up. I’ve never shown this much emotion and certainly not over a woman. “What’s going on with you two, anyway? The last time you were here, you couldn’t even say a good word about her. And now suddenly you want to rush in on your white horse without backup? That’s a good way to get yourself killed. Dante doesn’t fuck around. Never has. Remember that, Troy.”

“Forget about that.” I slip the paper into my pocket and start up the stairs. “All that matters right now is that I find her alive.”