Page 17 of Run to Me
Yes, I understand that the pictures and videos sent to our dad look damning, but I refuse to believe it unless I see my sister-in-law with another man with my own two fucking eyes.
They call me naïve.
I’m not naïve. If they paid enough attention, they would realize that I’m probably smarter than the both of them.
They don’t see things the way I do. They don’t have the attention to detail like I do. I can’t help but focus on every single move a person makes and listen closely to every single word a person utters.
Making matters worse, it’s been over one month since I’ve seen or spoken to Robyn.
I’ve stopped following her when she leaves her apartment, I’ve stopped waiting outside her friend’s apartment on Friday nights and watching her walk home. I’ve stopped parking outside the bookstore during the day just to catch a glimpse of her.
I’ve even been keeping the fucking blinds in my bedroom closed so I’m not tempted to try and spot her.
Sure, I still haven’t moved back to the penthouse, but that’s just because it would be a pain in my ass to move all of my things back over.
Keep telling yourself that, asshole.
Truth is, I find comfort being in that apartment, even if I can’t see her, at least I know I’m close to her. The chaos dims a little with that comfort. I could try going back to the penthouse and sleeping in the library I had built, but somehow I don’t think that would have the same effect.
I did have a moment of weakness and sent her flowers for her birthday. But other than that, I’ve been going cold turkey trying to battle my addiction.
So now the only two women I’ve ever cared for are currently out of my life. Robyn, by my own doing.
But Izzy? Izzy has been gone for six fucking days and I’m singlehandedly scouring the city for her since my brothers and Dad have no interest in helping.
Well, they do want to find her. Only, they want to find her to punish her for betraying our family and her husband.
Idiots.
I’m just about to leave the warehouse where I’ve been torturing a member of the Cartel for information on her whereabouts—not that it did any good, the useless fuck doesn’t know anything—when my phone rings.
Assuming it’s one of my brothers I go to decline the call, but when I see the caller ID, I quickly swipe accept and bring the phone to my ear.
“Hello? Izzy is that you?” I say in a rush.
“It’s me,” she says, and the tension drops from my shoulders as I let out a breath of relief.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Izzy. I’ve been worried as hell,” I say and swallow the lump in my throat before continuing, “No one in the family is speaking to me because I told them you wouldn’t do it. I know you wouldn’t, Bella, so what the fuck is going on?”
“Not the time, Enzo. I visited the bookstore the day I was taken…” she says as though I didn’t already know this from looking into every single fucking step that she took six days ago.
“Robyn had bruises around her wrists, you need to protect her,” she says and everything inside me stills as my vision darkens and my ears ring.
Robyn had bruises.
Someone put their fucking hands on my angel.
All because I stepped away, allowing her to live her life.
This is my fucking fault.
“What the fuck do you mean she had bruises?” I growl into the phone as I start rushing towards mycar.
“Just keep an eye on her En… oh fuck!” she cries, and I realize I’ve been so focused on the revelation about Robyn I completely forgot that Izzy has been wherever the fuck she’s been for the last few days.
“Izzy, are you okay?”
“I’m fine, but if you tell Luca I contacted you I’ll slice your neck from ear to ear in your sleep,” she growls and my lips tip up in a smile, thankful to be hearing her threaten me.