Page 24 of Smoke

The waiting is driving me nuts.

I grab a pencil from the pen pot and spin it around between my fingers. The screen lights up on my phone. Another message.

THEY’RE ON THE MOVE.

THEY’VE LEFT THE DINER AND WALKING TOWARDS THE CAR.

HER CAR? I message back.

NO, HIS CAR. SHE CAME HERE IN A CAB.

“What the fuck is she doing?” I growl out, snapping the pencil in two.

FOLLOW HER, AND DON’T FUCKING LOSE HER, OR I’LL HAVE YOUR BALLS ON A PLATE.

A BIT HARSH PREZ, BUT DON’T WORRY, WE GOT THIS.

Has this woman got a death wish or something? I thought she might be more street savvy being a news reporter and all that. Doesn’t she know how fucking dangerous it is to get into a dude’s car? Not only one that she barely knows, but a man like Dunne.

I jump to my feet and start pacing. The number of times that I spin around to continue pounding the tiny amount of floor space in my office gets close to making me dizzy and does nothing to quash my mounting temper.

I realize that not only am I mad at her for taking such a damn assed stupid risk, but also the blatant disregard for how dangerous the situation is that she’s carelessly put herself in. This has me with my hands in my hair, gripping chunks of it and tugging with frustration. Beads of sweat pop up on my forehead and a tightness forms in my chest, causing shortness of breath as fear grips me.

Fuck. An overwhelming need to protect her soars through my veins. I turn and grip tighter the phone that Istill have in my hand and press the button to call Cub, then bring it to my ear.

“Prez, I was about to message you.” Cub answers almost immediately. “The car’s pulled up outside what looks to be her apartment block. I guess he gave her a lift home.”

“Can you see what they’re doing?” I demand harshly. Is he touching her, kissing her? My mind is reacting to this situation, a situation that I’ve instigated. My reaction is confusing. I have no right to feel this way. I don’t want to have these reactions, but I can’t deny them. I’m a fucking asshole.

“Too far away, but it looks like they’re talking,” Cub replies, but it does little to dampen my crazy thoughts. “Wait… she’s out of the car and is standing at the entrance of the apartment building.”

“Stupid bitch,” I growl out. “Why the fuck would she let it be known where she lives?” Maybe she’s fallen for the fucking Irish cunt after saying all the right things that led her to trust him. Trust him enough for her to foolishly expose to him where she resides and therefore increasing the risk to her safety. “Is he getting out of the car?”

“Not as yet, but he’s not pulled away. She’s waving at him, like she’s waiting for him to leave, but he’s not moving.” The line goes quiet. While I wait for more, I shrug off my cut and swap it out for my plain black leather jacket.

“She’s turned towards the building and is about to go through the entrance door.” Cub continues with the running commentary as I pull open the officedoor and walk through the common room and outside. Although I trust Cub and Rex, I can’t hang about here any longer. I need to deal with this.

“Is Dunne still hanging back?” I ask when I get to my motorcycle, unhooking my helmet from where it’s resting on the handlebars.

“Yes, he’s just waiting.”

“What the fuck is he up to?” I wonder out loud.

“Not sure Prez, but say the word and I’ll be more than happy to do a drive by, slam a bullet in his head,” Rex’s voice pipes up for the first time. “Other than the apartment building, the rest of Victoria North Street is office buildings. I doubt we’ll raise much attention and could get out of here without being seen.”

“Where did you say you’re at?” I question.

“Victoria North Street,” Cub confirms.

“Wait, don’t do a fucking thing.” I bark quickly down the phone, placing my lid onto the seat of my ride.

“Prez,” Cub eventually grabs my attention. “Dunne’s driving off. Do you want us to follow him?”

“No, keep an eye on the building and tell me when she reappears.”

“That could be hours,” he groans like a teenager. Well, I suppose at eighteen he still is so I’ll let that one ride.

“No, she won’t,” I correct him.

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