Page 85 of Falling in Reverse

Why did they decide this was a good idea and just keep it a secret? That they could sleep at night knowing that I didn’t know when I’d been on a mission to keep us all out of the drama?

“You are all so high up my shit list,” I ground out as I set my concentration on a box of unopened cookies. “I seriously can’t fucking believe you.”

“Bitch later. We’ll get Levi and he can tell you all about it. I’m not sure how much he wants you to know.”

My face twists. “Obviously nothing since I didn’t know?—”

“Take it up with him, little asshole. I’m tellin’ you that he’s missing.”

I push my cheek out with the tip of my tongue, swallowing my temper, and straightening my spine.

Stepping out of Hot Rod’s hold, I put my big girl face on. “You said Torin Wildes was there?” Hot Rod nods, and a hazy plan formulates in my head. “You know of any places he hangs out?”

“One.”

“I know another.”

He lifts a brow. “You do?”

Yep. He cornered me there one time. Said he liked fresh fruit and shit.

“We can put some heat on the situation; however, how many dudes do you have?”

“Enough,” he deadpans.

Whatever, not going to ask.

“Good.” I meet his dark pools of browns and greens. “I need two.”

“What?” I can’t say that I don’t like the prompt look of surprise on my friend’s face.

I smirk, but allow my words to sink in. I’m getting my best friend back.

So I can kill Torin myself.

TWENTY-FOUR

bay

Loud music—"W.D.Y.W.F.M” by The Neighbourhood—and the screams of guests pierce my ears as I stride right into the Speakeasy Brewery on a mission.

It’s a place I remember Torin talking about starting one day. His ambitions were in the sky, and he told me some of them. Even had the name down and everything. And, throughout the years, I’ve heard about it from random people, so I decided to do a little recon.

Juice walked in, confirmed he was in the building—not sure how, but I didn’t ask any questions—and we all strode in.

The only thing on my mind now is looking for an office, because important people sit behind the doors and let everyone else make the money.

And I want it to be Torin Wildes with everything I have within me.

The pepper of an assault rifle goes off behind me, followed by more frantic screams and furniture being knocked over in fear, but I’ll let Juice and Hot Rod handle all that since, ya know, they’re The Nameless and all that with ski masks on.

I entered without one, appearing like a customer, when two minutes later, all hell broke loose in the middle of my downing a shot of Jack.

And, when I find the basic brown door with all my hopes and fears behind it, I reach around and grab my 9mm to settle in my palm.

Twisting the gold knob of the door, I throw it open, an immediate bark sounding as it flies open and before my eyes can even focus on who’s in the room or anywhere my arm is raised with my weapon on the ready.

There, behind the large oak desk, sits a calm Torin Wildes.

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