Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 76022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
My arm lowered.
The fire was still burning, still threatening to consume me, but after a few deep breaths, the flames weren’t licking at my mind any longer.
“Konstantin, I’d apologize, but it sounds like he has reason to be pissed at you,” Slash said.
He got a shrug from the Bratva boss at that.
“Stas, I feel bad for the town if you’re back,” Slash went on. “Coach, let’s go.”
When Slash used that tone, he was brooking no argument. I followed him out.
“You’re out of your fucking mind,” Slash said once we were outside. “But if Nyx was missing, I guess I would be too. So I’m not gonna chew you out too much about this. But I need to know you’re rational enough right now not to be a fucking risk.”
“I’m working on it,” I assured him.
“Okay. I’m assuming you checked out her place?”
“Yeah.”
“Alright. Is her car there?”
“Yeah.”
“Does she have any friends in town?”
“Just the club.”
“Could she have gotten sick? Called an ambulance?”
“I don’t know… maybe.”
My fucking mind was racing. I didn’t know anything for sure. Except Este was missing and Trix was sick.
“Okay. I’m calling Rook in on this. Let’s see if he can find any ambulance or police records about her. Or security or CCTV footage of her. See if we can get a direction to go in.”
“Alright,” I agreed.
If there was anything to be found, Rook could find it. But I couldn’t fucking stand around waiting to see.
“I’m going around to check abandoned buildings,” I said.
“Turn your fucking phone on.”
I reached to do that, checking to make sure there was no word from Este or and update from Colter.
Then I was heading off to check out all the hidden places in Shady Valley someone could hold another person.
If she was being held against her will, there were a lot of buildings in town to do it—places no one would think to look.
But I was looking.
At some point, I saw Slash heading off to do the same on the other side of the street.
It wasn’t long—maybe an hour or so—before my phone was buzzing in my pocket.
Not Colter with an update yet.
Rook.
“Tell me you have something,” I demanded, kicking a milk crate out of my way inside a spiderweb and rat-infested old building.
“Saint mentioned she went to college in West Virginia.”
“Yeah.”
“Did she happen to play soccer?”
“Yeah. Why?” How the fuck did that factor into this?
“Because I found something.”
“What is it?”
“An old restraining order.”
That gave me pause.
“From college?”
“Yeah.”
“Against who?”
“George Dover.”
Who the fuck was George Dover?
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
PAST
Este
I was excited and terrified as I slipped into my blue and yellow shorts and t-shirt, half-listening to the chatter of conversations around me in the locker room. It seemed like some of the girls knew each other from before college or had simply become besties since showing up on campus.
I was still trying to figure out the layout, how to get my books, and get to know my roommate. I hadn’t even attended a party yet.
Before I could shake off my uncertainty and strike up a conversation with one of these girls who would become integral parts of my college career, everyone was moving out onto the field.
Nerves skittered through my belly.
This would have been bad enough if I was walking out to greet the kind, warm, amazing coach who had recruited me, who had been with me through orientation and fitness testing.
But the team had all gotten word that our former coach had a family emergency and she’d needed to leave ahead of the season.
So now I had no idea if the new coach was going to be that warm and supportive or someone who was going to ride me and degrade us.
My grandfather’s words sounded in my head. You get what you get and you don’t get upset.
Words to live by.
Whoever they were or however they treated me, I would make the best of it. I had to. My college career depended on it.
“Alright, team,” a voice called, making me try to glance over the head of one of the taller girls standing in front of me. “I’m Coach Dover. I know the timing of this isn’t what anyone expected. You thought you were starting the season with Coach Tyler, and now you’ve got me. Change isn’t easy. But here’s what I can promise you: I’m here because I believe in this program… and I believe in you.”
Annoyed that I couldn’t see, I moved around the crowd to spot the man speaking.
He was a big guy.
He had to be over six-five and carrying around a fair amount of extra weight.
He had thinning hair and a round face with almost see-through blue eyes and ruddy cheeks.
“I’ll push you hard because that’s what it takes to—” he continued.
But the words stuttered and fell as his gaze landed on me.
It was like watching a mask fall.
He went from reasonably sure of himself to sweaty, shifty, and stammering. “I, uh, um…”