Page 86 of Craving Chaos

Renzo flips through the stack of photos that’s most front and center of the desk, pausing to show me one. It’s me and Devlin hugging.

She was stalking me.

She knew I’d had a thing with him. She was glaring at the necklace because she knew damn well who’d given it to me.

My stomach makes a quick trip down to my toes and back.

Renzo doesn’t ask about the photo. He simply keeps flipping until something else catches his attention, drawing a string of curses from him.

“What?” I crane my neck to see what he’s looking at.

Photos of Conner. Several of them, with and without Noemi.

“This was last week when he was getting ready for the wedding.” My words are paper thin, too shredded from shock to have any substance. She’s still following me and my family. “I don’t understand. Is she a stalker or a mole for the Albanians? What the fuck is going on here?”

He doesn’t answer because he’s equally as baffled. Instead, he flips to the next photo, which has my blood running ice cold. It’s a close-up of Noemi, and someone has drawn a red X over her in fat red Sharpie.

“I don’t like this, Ren,” I whisper.

“Me either. Give Noemi a call and make sure she’s okay.”

I nod and pull out my phone with shaking hands. I select her in my favorites and wait while the phone goes unanswered. The second voicemail picks up. I end the call and dial Conner.

“Good to know you’re alive,” he says when he answers.

“Where’s Noemi?” I demand.

“She and a few of the other ladies who were in town for the wedding went to brunch this morning, which you’d know if you’d made it to your brother’s wedding last night.”

“Where are they?”

He’s quiet for a second. “Why? What’s going on?” Wary concern sharpens his tone.

“I think Noemi might be in danger. There’s not time to explain. Where are they having brunch?”

I have his full attention now. Conner gives me the name of the place, and we all race over. When we find the group, Noemi isn’t with them.

“She saw a friend she hadn’t seen in a while and said they were going to visit for a bit. Why, what’s going on?” They all give us worried looks, but I don’t have time to explain.

“This friend—did you see her?”

They nod.

“Brown hair and eyes, Romanesque features, very striking?”

“Yeah, that’s her,” one of them says warily. “Why? Who is she?”

“Motherfucker,” Conner barks, slamming his fist on the table.

The entire restaurant quiets.

I look back at the ladies. “We don’t have time to explain, but you guys should get home. We’ll let you know when we have her back safely.”

We don’t wait for a reply, barreling back through the restaurant. The second we’re outside, Conner starts pacing.

“Tell me you know where she is, Shae,” he demands. “Where the fuck is my wife?”

Being responsible for the gun theft was bad enough. If something happens to Noemi because of me, I’ll never forgive myself.

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