Page 106 of Love Her

No hiding, no worrying about anyone taking photos.

I thought about buying some bleach from the drugstore down the street, to give myself a fast disguise, but then realized I might as well keep looking like my passport photo, until I was safe outside the country.

Later on tonight.

It was inconceivable that I’d beaten him here—there was no way that it’d taken him longer to pack, in fact he probably had a go-bag—but maybe he had something to finish up?

I texted him one word:

Hurry.

And he didn’t text me back.

Please.

I added, and then attempted to be flirty.

I’m tired of waiting

I confessed—with a completely non-seductive winking emoji.

Then there was a knock at the door—which would explain why he hadn’t bothered texting—because he was almost here.

I flew to open it—and found a man dressed in black with a ski mask on, waiting.

“No!” I shouted—but before I could say anything else, his arm was around my back, there was something foul smelling in my face, and then the whole world spun away.

65

RHAIM

Ileft Lia’s messages unanswered—because the next time I talked to her, I wanted it to be in person—but I flew through the lobby, and up to Isabelle’s floor.

Once I got there though, I slowed.

Something smelled wrong here—like chloroform—a scent I was unfortunately familiar with, sickly sweet, like rot.

“No,” I growled, storming down the short hall to Isabelle’s place, where I let myself in—only to find Lia’s belongings, but no other sign of my little girl. “NO!” I shouted, not caring who else heard.

My normal phone rang—if someone was going to ask for ransom for her, they would get it—right before I shoved my arm down their throat. “What?” I demanded—and found Rio on the other end of the line.

“Nero sent me to tail you. He wants to be a part of this thing—to tell her he agrees.”

“Get the fuck up here, I’m texting you the codes—” I growled, and then paced in the hall, waiting for him.

He clocked me the second he got off the elevator. “What’s wrong?”

“She’s not here.”

“She…thought better of marrying a man twice her age, like an anchor?”

“Shut up you motherfucker and smell,” I said—and as he did, his eyes grew wide.

“Fuck—did they hurt her?”

“I don’t know,” I snarled—and then called Sable. She picked up on the first ring.

“Rhaim?”

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