Even so, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Adriano Dombruso and I were destined to cross paths again someday.
3
Adriano
That little asshole! I couldn’t believe he’d stolen from me. And of all the things to take, of course he’d chosen my most prized possession. Well, why not? It was the most expensive thing in that chest by far, though I really didn’t get why he’d left the rest of my watches and cufflinks behind. It made no sense.
Also, he’d chained me up—and I’d fucking let him!—just a few hours earlier. Why hadn’t he robbed me while I was incapacitated? He could have slapped some duct tape over my mouth and taken his time completely wiping me out. But instead, he’d set me free, slept by my side for a while, andthenhe robbed me.
Okay, so maybe it had been a spontaneous thing. Maybe curiosity got the better of him on the way to the shower, so he’d looked in the chest, seen the watch, and made a snap decision to take it.
I was almost as mad at myself as I was at Jack, because leaving the mahogany box sitting out like that was totally on me. Usually, it was kept in a safe. But I’d brought it out earlier this evening, so I could select a watch and a pair of cufflinks. It was my first night at a singles bar in almost five years, and I’d wanted to look good.
Then my fucking ex-boyfriend called, and I’d gotten so wrapped up in fighting with him that I’d forgotten all about locking up the box again. In fact, I hadn’t given it a second thought—not until I saw it sitting there wide open, with an empty slot where the Rolex should have been. How could I be that careless?
With a sigh, I turned and started trudging uphill, back toward my rental. I’d been out here for what felt like hours, combing the neighborhood, but Jack had disappeared. He’d only had a few seconds head start too, which was the time it took for me to chuck the unloaded gun in the drawer, follow him off the balcony, and untangle myself from the hedge.
He was really fast though, and I just wasn’t. The only reason I even knew which direction he’d gone was because I’d caught a glimpse of him in the distance. He’d been running down the middle of the street, but as soon as he reached the neighborhood beyond the park, he'd ducked into the shadows and that was that.
It was time to pack it in. If some cops should happen to roll up on me, I’d definitely be questioned. It was beyond late, and I was sweaty, barefoot, and in nothing but a pair of shorts, which I’d ripped on the bushes that had failed to cushion my fall. Looking like this was bound to attract attention.
Not that I was giving up. I’d track down that little thief if it was the last thing I did, but not like this.
Once I got back home, I tried the front door. It was locked, of course. With a dramatic sigh, I plucked the plastic trash can from the side of my neighbor’s house and tried to use it as a step to help me climb up onto the balcony. On my first attempt, it rolled out from under me, and I ended up landing back in those fucking bushes. During attempt number two, the plastic lid folded inward, and I dropped into the bin like a huge bag of trash. The fact that there was something squishy under my bare feet made me shudder.
This was Jack’s fault. I was already furious with him, and this just added fuel to the flames.
Finally, I managed to brace the can against the building and climb up onto its rim. From there, it was just a matter of swinging my leg up high enough to get a foothold on the edge of the balcony, then heaving myself up with a death grip on the metal railing.
The whole time I was doing this shit, I kept waiting for the sound of police sirens. If any of my neighbors saw this, they’d definitely report it as an attempted break-in by the world’s most inept cat burglar.
Somehow though, I managed to flop onto the balcony without a SWAT team arriving on the scene. Then I crawled through the open doors and collapsed in a heap, breathing heavily and sweating onto the beige carpet. Even though I worked out religiously, I obviously needed to add more cardio to my routine. I wasn’t nearly as fit as I liked to think I was.
Eventually, I got up, closed and locked the double doors, and pulled the curtains. When I crossed the room, I expected to find the mahogany box totally emptied out. After all, I’d left the doors open and this place unguarded for the last couple of hours, and there was plenty left to steal. Everything else was still there, though. Surprisingly, Jack hadn’t doubled back and finished the job.
I closed the chest and stuck it in the closet. There was no hurry to lock it back in the safe, since the most important thing I owned had already been stolen. The rest was just stuff.
Next, I went into the bathroom, stripped down, and stuffed my torn shorts into the trash can before stepping into a hot shower. I took a long time scrubbing myself down, since I was a grimy mess. Afterwards, I toweled off and spent some time dressing my cuts and scrapes with antibiotic cream and bandages.
There was one more thing I needed to do before bed. I pulled on a pair of black cotton pajama pants, went downstairs to the home office, and took a seat at the desk, which I’d never actually used before. Then I began to sketch Jack on a sheet of copy paper, while the memory of him was still so fresh in my mind. I’d always been good at drawing for some reason. My mom called it a gift, but so far it had proven to be useless. Maybe now it’d finally pay off.
It took four attempts, but after I finished a sketch that captured his likeness, I wrote down everything I knew about him. It wasn’t much. Under the (probably fake) name he’d given me, I noted his approximate height and weight, age, hair and eye color, and where we’d met. Beneath that I wrote in big letters: $2000 reward for any information on the whereabouts of this man. It was tempting to offer a huge amount to really motivate people, but I figured I could end up with multiple tips and might have to pay several people, so it was best to keep the amount manageable.
I added my phone number and looked it over, and decided that was about the best I could do. Then I ran off a bunch of copies on the combination printer/copier/fax machine in the corner and stacked the papers neatly on the desk. Tomorrow, I’d visit the bar where we’d met, and every other place like it in the city, and I’d leave those with bartenders, bouncers, valets—anyone who could potentially have some information.
Jack had seemed perfectly at home in that singles bar, so this was probably a good way to find him. I just hoped it happened quickly, before he sold the watch for pennies on the dollar and it was lost forever.
Now that my little art project was done, I left the office and went in search of my phone. It was right where I’d left it—on the nightstand in the guest bedroom. I picked it up and scowled as I looked around. The bed was rumpled, there were condoms all over the floor, and the shopping bag had tipped over and spilled sex toys onto the rug. What a fucking mess.
I took one of the pillows and held it to my nose. The faint smell of sex and Jack and his cologne still lingered. Damn it, I’d really liked this guy, before he proved to be a snake. I’d even planned to ask him out, take him somewhere nice for dinner, maybe see if this could turn into something. But he just had to go and betray my trust.
Before leaving the room, I untangled the handcuffs from the headboard and put them in my pocket. If and when I found that little shit, they might come in handy. Then I shut off the lights and closed the door behind me. I’d have to remember to clean up in there before the maid service was in on Tuesday, but there was no way I wanted to deal with that tonight.
I went back upstairs and climbed into bed, and then I tried searching the name Jack had given me on my phone. There were about a million Jack O’Donnells on social media. I wasn’t even sure of the right way to spell it. Besides, it was probably an alias. Why wouldn’t it be? He’d said as much, something along the lines of lying to the men he met in bars, because that was what you were supposed to do.
Eventually, I gave up and put the phone down. My mind was still racing, though. By the time I finally drifted off, the light of dawn was filtering in around the curtains.
* * *