THEO
The second I woke up and found that Emmie had replied, I shot one straight back.
I’d slept harder and longer than I ever remember doing, and I actually felt almost normal—until I rolled out of bed and my muscles twisted and pulled, reminding me of everything I’d been through to get here.
I figured it was a minor price to pay if she was going to continue talking to me.
Although, I started to question that when I emerged from the shower to find that not only had my message not been replied to, but it hadn’t even been read.
So maybe I was jumping the gun, thinking something could actually come out of all of this. She was probably just exhausted and delusional and didn’t really know what she was doing.
But then she wouldn’t have replied this morning, dickhead.
Feeling like a fucking headcase letting myself go crazy over a girl, I dragged on a pair of sweats and headed to the kitchen, taking both my phone and tablet with me, telling myself that just checking in on her wouldn’t be such a bad thing.
I fell onto the sofa with a steaming mug of coffee in my hand and opened my tablet. Logging into the app I had hidden, I discovered her room was empty.
And that’s the way it stayed. All. Fucking. Day.
I spent the day doing fuck all and just waiting for Emmie to appear or even to reply. But I got nothing.
In fact, I had no idea the world still existed outside of my flat until my buzzer went off later that evening.
I knew it was going to be one of the guys. It was the perfect time for them to have finished training and to get home.
The only one of us who’s not moved into the building yet is Alex. If I’d been paying attention to anything outside of my own drama recently, I might know why he’s dragging his heels about it.
I’d have thought he’d have been the first one here, seeing as he practically lived with me in my coach house. He never seemed all that keen on going home, so I’m surprised he wants to now.
Pushing from the sofa, I stalk toward my door and open it without bothering to look at the screen. It was one of four people.
Realistically, probably one of three.
I didn’t think Toby would have come to check on me. He’s got enough of his own shit going on right now to worry about mine.
“All right,” I mutter when I find Seb’s blank expression staring back at me.
He doesn’t say a word as I pull the door wider and invite him in.
I know he’s pissed at me. He’s made that more than clear since I confessed to knowing that he and Emmie were cousins.
“Good day at school?” I ask, pulling the fridge open and grabbing two beers, throwing one at him.
“You heard what your dad’s doing?”
“Hopefully finding and torturing Luis fucking Wolfe.”
“Pretty sure that’s on his list after yesterday. But no.”
“Are you going to tell me or am I meant to guess? Because I gotta tell you, where my dad is concerned, it could be fucking anything.”
“He’s organised for Jonas—the non-mafia, loving father version—to have a fucking funeral.”
My eyes widen.
“But he’s not dead. Is he?” I ask. The last I knew he was still sitting in a puddle of his own piss in a cell for Toby to play with whenever he felt like it.
Honestly, I didn’t think Toby would be down for torture, but that motherfucker really has helped him to embrace his inner monster, because he’s so fucking hungry for it. As he should be after the way Jonas treated both him, Maria, and Stella.