Page 79 of The Woman

“Alright, I may have phoned Anderson and told him to go with a different company, but I didn’t think he’d actually listen.”

I blink, and it takes a moment for what he said to register in my mind. I release his shirt with a shove, turning to walk out the door with Jonah’s flustered words of apology following me.

I start making my way back to where Edison is sitting, but at the last minute, I make a detour over to the table where Jonah’s potential clients are sitting.

“Gentlemen,” I greet with a forced smile. “Did I see you here with Jonah Michaels?”

“You did,” one of them answers jovially. “We’re looking at some of his property along the waterfront.”

The proud look on his face is genuine, and I’m almost sorry to take that away from him.

“That’s good to hear,” I reply seriously. “He must have gotten that rat infestation under control, which is good. Hopefully, it doesn’t come back this time.”

After watching their faces morph into a look of horror, I say goodbye and leave their table, my heart feeling heavy and my hopes of finding Avery before it’s too late fading away.

Chapter 32

Phoenix

My head hangs heavy between my shoulders; my fingers curled tightly around the edge of the counter as I listen to my phone ring once again. It’s my father, no doubt. He has called a few times, probably wondering why I’m not at the office.

I just couldn’t bring myself to go in. It’s Monday today, and she’s been gone since Friday. I highly doubt that if I were to somehow find her now, that she’d be the same Avery – my Avery.

Everything feels incomplete without her, including my heart.

I’ve heard nothing from them, which I still find strange. No questions, no information. Not even to let me know that it has been done and she’ll be returned to me on a specific date.

Will she even be returned to me?

Will I even want her here if she is?

She’ll just be a reminder of what I lost. Someone who vaguely resembles her but doesn’t have the same spark of life in her eyes.

I tried a number of things over the weekend.

I tried to get information from the security department of my building, but they refused to give anything away.

I tried calling the number for reporting a WOUN, but it was only an automated message service telling me to leave all the details of the report on there, and they would take care of the rest.

I thought about making something up and waiting until they arrived to question them. But it went into detail at the beginning of the message about what would happen should someone make a false claim. I’d be in prison before I could ask a thing, which would be of no help to either of us.

I even tried calling my grandfather in a desperate attempt to get any information I could, but he didn’t answer his phone. It’s probably for the best.

I never realized just how many unmarked and inaccessible buildings there are here in the city until I spent a few hours driving around, seeing if I could stumble upon the right place.

I have money, status, and power, and yet it seems to mean fuck all when it comes to matters to do with a WOUN.

Scrubbing a hand over my face and lingering on the longer, unkempt scruff on my jaw, I reject the call and open my fridge. It’s filled with food, but I barely notice any of it. Slamming it closed again, I turn around and lean my back against the door.

I’ve suffered through a range of emotions over the weekend, but right now I’m pissed. I’m fucking pissed. How dare they take her away from me. How dare they walk into the home of a Carsen and do whatever they like. How dare they change her without my consent. How fucking dare they do that to any of them.

WOUN are not a threat to our society. In fact, I can see them enhancing it.

My phone rings again, and I’m tempted to throw it across the room, but this time I grab it and answer, just to stop him from calling.

“What,” I snap.

“You’ve been rejecting my calls,” my father replies calmly.

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