Page 75 of The Italian Reckoning
“You good?”
He narrows his eyes at me as we walk down the stairs. “The fuck kind of question is that?”
“I’m not asking how you feel. I need to make sure you’re not about to tornado into Sarah’s apartment and scare her. She went through what Mary went through, y’know, only he got his hands on her for six fucking days. I don’t need you scaring her, understand?”
Domenico’s brows lift briefly, then he nods. “I won’t scare her.”
“You'd better not,” I mutter, “or we’ll have a problem.”
“At odds with both of the Baratis,” Domenico mutters. “What a surprise.”
“At least we’re on the same side,” I say as we stride into the garage. “This picture could be exactly what we?—”
I stop dead and Domenico walks smack into my back. “The hell?”
My heart plummets down into my gut. “Where the fuck is my bike?”
33
ROCKY
“Sarah!” Kicking down her door, the wood splinters and creaks then finally gives way under my foot. “Sarah, are you here?”
The moment I saw my bike missing, I called Sarah. But she didn’t answer. She also didn’t answer in the thirty minutes it took Domenico and me to drive here. She didn’t answer as I climbed the stairs to her apartment, and she still doesn’t answer as I charge inside.
My heart pounds like a drumbeat in my skull, my hands tremble, and my anxiety spikes too high. It's like I’m about to shake apart at my joints. I can barely breathe as I sprint from room to room, slamming open doors and pulling open any cupboard large enough to hide a person.
There’s no sign of her.
Breathless, I arrive in her study where Domenico stands in front of Sarah’s investigation wall, his face grim.
“Any sign?” I gasp, hoping Domenico somehow found something I missed.
“No,” he says stiffly. “Are you sure she would be here?”
“Yes. Yes, I called her and I told her I was coming to get her. It’s no coincidence that my fucking bike is gone and she’s nowhere to be found.” My trembling fingers repeatedly miss the redial button until I grit my teeth and glare down at my device. I hit the button and the call starts, only to end up once again going to voicemail after five rings.
Nothing.
The world falls away and for a few seconds, I exist in a freezing cold vacuum. Sarah is gone. Did that fucker get his hands on my bike? But how is that possible? Is it someone I know? No. I don’t recognize the sketch. But there are too many pieces here that there has to be some sort of connection. There’s no way Sarah would just go off grid without letting me know.
Not after we?—
“Rocky.” Domenico’s hand lands on my shoulder and grounds me back in reality. “Talk to me.”
“You don’t think…” I glance up at him and when our eyes meet, I see the same thought in his eyes that I can’t vocalize. Saying it out loud makes it far too real, and I can’t stand that. If he has her, if he somehow managed to get his hands on her again, I’ll never forgive myself.
“Facts first,” Domenic says calmly. “Talk me through it.”
“I called her. Told her I would pick her up. That was hours ago. My bike is gone and she’s not here. Is it a leap to think that bastard somehow got my bike?”
“Given the circumstances, I think a leap is what we need right now,” Domenico replies. “This wall is insane.” He moves away from me to Sarah’s evidence wall and tips his head back and forth as he examines everything. “These are his victims?”
“Mmhmm. Sarah included. He’s been quiet for five, almost six years until now. It’s like he finally tracked Sarah down and wanted to remind her that he was the one that got away.”
“Alright, before you panic, we need to rule everything out.”
“Like what?” I snap with more heat than Domenico deserves.
