Page 92 of Nothing to Lose: Lost Trilogy: Part 1
“Do you need me to come get you?” he asks, making me smile. He’s like my older brother, always ready to come to my rescue.
“I’ll be fine,” I assure him. “I’m leaving Devereaux’s house. “He wants me to keep an eye on Emily. Her ex wants her money, so I guess he’s been around.”
Sully starts laughing. “That’s convenient, yeah? You wanna be with her, and her father basically gives her to you to take care of?”
He sounds so amused when he says it, he’s making me laugh.
“Whatever, catch ya later.”
I hang up the phone, then pull my texting up to send Emily a message, and realize she texted earlier to see if I was going to her house tonight.
Me: hey, babe, I’m coming over tonight. Bringing pizza, so let me know what you want on it
I tap the stirring wheel as I wait for her to reply, but after two full minutes that feel like an hour, I finally leave Devereaux’s driveway. It’s still early afternoon, she may be close to finishing her shift.
I decide to go home first, at the house I’m sharing with Sully and Wrecker. That reminds me that I need to start referring to Wrecker as Dylan. He blew his lid the other day and screamed his head off that he was Dylan now, Wrecker was dead.
I wish I could say that Puck is dead, but I hate my legal name, so Puck it is. I sometimes think of the day when Wrecker, er, Dylan, asked me what I wanted my club name to be since no one else had any good suggestions.
I’d been carrying my lucky puck around from the day it saved my life, so it was a no brainer. In hindsight, I realize that I could’ve gone with Lucky, but that wouldn’t have been as meaningful.
I should look up Brandon Karlsberg now that talking to him would not bring any criminal activity to his door. I allowed myself to do one search of his name one night when I had a good buzz going and sleep was eluding me. The fucker really made it to the pros.
The closer to the house, the more I have this bad feeling building up inside of me. I have no idea what it is, but it’s there.
I grab my cell phone and call Emily. No answer. On a whim, I look up the hospital and call there.
“This is Morgan, how may I help you?” a very proper voice answers the phone when I am finally transferred to the floor where Emily works.
“I need to speak with Emily.”
“Is this regarding a patient?” This chick’s tone does not allow for any sweet talking, I can already tell.
“No, personal,” I chuckle, which seems to irritate her if the little tsk she lets out is any indication.
“I’m sorry, Miss Stewart is not available,” her predictable answer comes over the line. “Please call her personal phone during hours when she is not on shift.”
“I’m just trying to find out if sheison shift,” I snap at her.
“I apologize, sir. I can’t give out personal information about any of my employees. Have a wonderful day.”
“Bitch.” I throw my phone in the cup holder, frustration seeping out of my every pore.
I’m finally home. I throw the truck intoParkand rush inside to grab a change of clean clothes. As I’m throwing stuff in a small travel bag, I call in the order for the pizza, that way it’ll be done by the time I leave here.
I then go downstairs to where I have a small office area set up. Two large computer monitors take most of the desk area, and a stack of notes is to the side. I’ve been messing around on the dark web ever since we got here, constantly looking for clues and making sure there is no chatter out there about any of us, or anything that would lead back to the clubhouse.
I grab the one laptop I stole from Shortie’s room on the night that we left. I haven’t been able to get into it yet, but I am getting closer, I can feel it.
“Okay, I think that’s it,” I mutter to myself right before I also remember to take the one notebook where I keep track of my tries to log in. Since I can’t sleep at night anyway, might as well work while Emily is snoozing.
I get back on the road, with my stomach reminding me that I haven’t eaten all day. Thank God I went with the extra large pizza. The smell of it is killing me when I pick it up, and I wonder if I’ll be able to make it for the twenty-minute trip to Emily’s house.
The sky is darkening by the time I enter the town of Sunny, Montana. It really is cute as fuck.
As soon as I turn onto Emily’s street, my eyes zero in on her house, which is still a couple hundred feet away. I see a car other than her own parked out front, but I can’t tell yet if it is in her driveway or her neighbor’s. It’s almost like an optical illusion of sorts.
“What the fuck,” I mutter when I realize that there is indeed a second car parked in her driveway. It is one of those SUV’s that are not necessarily expensive, but they make them look like they’re high quality. Until you drive them, and it all falls apart en route.
