I didn’t let him come to a full stop before hopping out of the truck. The dorm assistant started to spew some shit, but I wasn’t with it. “Diego Santiago, where?”
“Do you have a pass?”
“Gabriel Russo, that’s my pass. Now, where is he?”
He had the good sense to blanch at the name before typing something into his little device.
“Room three-oh-five, on the third floor, the elevators are right over… Hey, you can’t all go up there at once.” I took the stairs because I’d lose my shit if I had to wait for an elevator, and the others ignored him and followed hot on my heels. I found the room and knocked before bursting in as soon as it was opened.
“Did you make a new ID for Gianna Fontane yesterday?”
“Hey, it’s Gabe Russo, uh, who is that?” I grabbed him up and shook the memory back into his five-foot-four ass. “Okay-okay, chill. The hot little number with the eyes, right?”
“You seeking death?”
“Nope, ah, no, she didn’t want that, said it would take too long, so I hooked her up with someone. It’s messed up what was going on with her, huh.”
“What’re you talking about?”
“Her dad, the guys who were after her.” I have no idea what that was about, but obviously, it’s the story she’d told him.
“Who did you hook her up with?”
“Um, I’m not at liberty to tell you…hey, what gives bro?”
“Gabe, let him go.”
“Talk, or I’ll break your fucking neck.”
“Okay, okay, but it won’t do you any good. It’s like this. One of my connections works with this underground outfit that helps women disappear.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“It’s an organization for battered women. Even if I tell you who, it won’t be of any help. Once she passes her off, she won’t know anything more about her; that’s how it works. One hand doesn’t know about the other and so on.”
“What’re you saying?”
“She could be halfway around the country by now, or anywhere for that matter, if she has the money and resources.”
“Give me the name and number of this contact.”
He started to argue, but the death glare in my eyes changed his mind. Halfway around the country or anywhere. Where would she have gone? I took the paper with the name he wrote without looking at it and turned to leave the room. “If anything happens to her, I’ll….” No, not his fault; this was my doing.
I had that choking feeling again as I headed back down the stairs. The idiot assistant looked pissed that we’d overruled his authority but whatever. “Where to? You still wanna go to her house?” Lance sounded pissed, worried, but pissed.
“No, take me back home; I need my computer.”
I’m going to find you and when I do…. I didn’t give you permission to run away, Gianna. What did you do then, asshole? What did you think was going to happen? My conscience can be a bit of a stronzo.
GABRIEL
Nothing! I spent all night into the morning looking. It’s like she never existed. There’s no way she could’ve disappeared that fast on her own, but then again, she had help, didn’t she? The contact I got from Diego is lucky she does good work for women in need, or I would’ve ended her already. She gave me nothing when I called and even refused to meet with me face to face.
I’ve played around with the idea of holding someone hostage until I get some answers, but that’s the monster in me. I have to keep that shit on lock, he’s already cost me more than enough, but it’s hard not to lose it at every turn. I even paid Felix a visit, but he had no idea where she was and was now spending his days worrying about her instead of the sentence he was facing.
Good, the monster is very pleased that he’s not the only one suffering. Her grandmother had returned home with a promise to come back soon. For some reason watching her go was like losing my last connection to Gianna. Now I’m beginning to think maybe she, Gianna has some monster in her as well. How else could she just disappear from my life like this? I have moments when I wonder if she ever cared, but then I remind myself that I’m the one who sent her away, that it was me who’d thrown her away, or at least that’s how I think she sees it.
Pop wasn’t having any luck finding her trail either, which somehow scares me more than my wasted efforts do. If he couldn’t find her with all of his resources, and the two of us together were coming up empty-handed, I don’t know what that says about the lengths she’d gone to to escape me.
Was she really that hurt? Had I been that careless with her when all I was doing was trying to protect? I run the gamut each day from wanting to wring her neck in anger to just wanting her to come back home or at the very least just reach out and let me or someone know that she’s okay and not hurt in a ditch somewhere.