Smiling, she took the phone and answered, “Hey, Elle!”
“Hey, Chloe. How was your day?”
They continued to talk, telling each other about their day like they usually did.
Lucca had been letting her talk to Elle every night, putting just as much trust in her as she did him. It was a good trade off and helped make her feel more comfortable and less cut off from the outside world.
Her beautiful prison was beginning to feel more and more like … home.
Amo was at Nero and Elle’s place to see if they had made any dinner. It was becoming a habit to come over when he got desperate for food, having nothing at his place since he hadn’t been to the store in a while. He would play up just coming over to talk to Nero, and then, without fail, Elle would ask him if he wanted anything to eat. Amo was beginning to think that Nero was catching on, though.
When Nero had invited him in, Elle was talking on the phone. It didn’t take him long to figure out who she was talking to and begin eavesdropping.
He never thought Chloe would ignore him for this long. Not once since leaving had she sent him a message, let alone called him.
It doesn’t make any sense. Chloe wasn’t the type of girl to hold a grudge. She had proven that when he found out she had known it was him who had called her a freak.
A strange feeling had settled over him after she left, and it only grew stronger the longer she went without contacting him. He didn’t know what it was exactly—the answer just out of reach—but he would figure it out.
“It’s getting pretty cold here,” Elle was telling Chloe. Then her face started to change, a concerning look coming over her face as she listened to Chloe’s reply. “It is?” She paused, listening to the other end, now looking confused. Then she hurriedly said, “Oh, okay then. Talk to you later. By—” When she pulled the phone away from her ear, she stared at it strangely. “That was weird.”
Amo took a step toward Elle, uncaring if she knew he had been eavesdropping, every alarm in him going off. “What is it?”
“I thought California was flooding from all the rain?”
It had been all over the news that California was getting massive amounts of rain. He had even worried about Chloe being in it and had checked to see how much rain she was getting at Stanford.
“Yeah …?” Amo took another step toward her.
Elle’s eyebrows came together, still staring at the phone in utter confusion. “She said it was sunny and pretty.”
The wheels began to turn. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“She probably just didn’t want you to worry,” Nero pointed out.
He looked over at Nero, who didn’t seem worried, then back at Elle. “Did she say anything else?”
“No, she just said she needed to go because dinner was done.”
Amo and Elle clearly had the same thought. Chloe can’t cook. She had a housekeeper back home, Lana, who had made her every meal since her father had become mayor.
“I need to go.” He could almost touch the answer now.
“Elle is about to make some dinner; you sure you don’t want to stay?” Nero asked, stopping him.
Amo didn’t even answer his friend as he flung the door open and left. Picking up his feet faster and faster, he started running, the pieces falling into place around him.
I’m coming, Chloe. I’m coming to save you.
He just hoped he wasn’t too late.
Thirty
The Death of Amo
Chloe was sitting on the floor next to Lucca like she did every night, with his dark jeaned leg touching her arm—another thing she had grown used to over the course of a month. The activity that had started out with watching TV was now their talking time. She enjoyed listening to him talk mostly about his mother and family. His work, they would only talk about every now and then. Admittedly, the mafia fascinated her. A little.
They were talking about future plans for the garden when Drago came rushing into the room with a frightened look on his face. “Get her upstairs. Someone’s here.”
Lucca quickly stood from the chair, but stunned, it wasn’t until Lucca grabbed Chloe’s hand that she was able to move and get up.
The air around her seemed to change then, like she could almost feel the person was here for her. Who’s here?
Holding her hand, Lucca led her to the foyer and toward the stairs.
“W-Who is i-it?” she managed to get out.
“It doesn’t matter. I need you to go to your room and lock the door,” Lucca told her with urgency as Drago went to the front door and looked out the peephole.
“P-Please tell me who it is.” She felt herself dragging her feet, trying to slow Lucca down.