Page 72 of The Cleaner

The water runs cold before I finally step out, wrapping myself in a towel. Once again, the house is filled with silence and I hate it. I fucking hate it. I quickly get dressed and pad into the bedroom—our bedroom—and curl up on his side of the bed. It's pathetic, I know, but I can't help myself. I bury my face in his pillow, wishing that I hadn’t washed his scent earlier on. Tears threaten to spill, but I hold them back. I've cried enough. I can’t keep crying.

My phone buzzes from the kitchen but I ignore it. I don’t want to talk to anyone. I close my eyes and pray that sleep will come. Anything to take away this pain I’m feeling.

Two Hours Earlier

Loud knockingat the door wakes me up. Groggily, I slide out of bed. As I walk out of my room, everything hits me.

God, my dad’s dead and Maverick’s gone. A sob bubbles up in my throat, but I swallow it down. I can't fall apart now. The knocking continues, more insistent this time.

"Lisa? Lisa, are you in there?" Travis yells, his voice tight and filled with anger.

I take a deep breath, trying to compose myself, before I open the door. Travis stands there, his eyes wild, his jaw tight as he watches me with concern. "Thank God," he breathes, pulling me into a tight hug. "I've been trying to reach you for the past thirty minutes."

“I was asleep,” I mumble as I step back, gesturing for him to come inside. “What’s wrong?”

Travis' eyes scan the room then settle back on me. "Maverick’s gone."

I shake my head, trying to understand what he means. “Gone?”

“Someone snuck up behind him, hit him over the head, and took him,” Travis tells me, his gaze focused on me, his eyes filled with worry.

My heart stops. "What?" I whisper, my voice barely audible. "How... How is that possible? Who would..."

Travis runs a hand through his hair, frustration evident in every movement. "We don't know yet. The security footage doesn’t show their face. Whoever did this knew what they were doing."

I stumble back, my legs suddenly weak. Travis catches me before I fall, guiding me to the couch. My mind is reeling, trying to process this new information. Maverick... This can’t be happening. I can’t lose him. I love him. God, I love him so much. I can’t lose him. How could this happen?

"Lisa, I need you to focus," Travis says, his voice firm but gentle. "Did Maverick mention anything to you? Any threats, any enemies?"

I shake my head, trying to clear the fog in my brain. "No, nothing. We never spoke about what we do,” I confess. “I didn’t want him to know who I was, what I did. I thought it was easier not to mention his job so it wouldn’t come back to me.” I run my hand through my hair. “I should have done. If I had?—”

Travis rests his hand on my shoulder. “Don’t do this to yourself,” he urges. “We’re going to find him. I have Melissa doing what she does best, and when she has that information, we’ll find him.”

I nod, trying to hold on to Travis' reassurance, but my mind is racing. Maverick's face flashes before my eyes—his cocky grin, his intense gaze, the way his eyes softened when he looked at me. And now he's gone. Taken. My stomach churns with fear and guilt. Would they have taken him if I hadn't kicked him out?

"What can I do?" I ask, my voice stronger than I feel. "There must be something." I need to find him.

Travis hesitates, his eyes searching my face. "Lisa, I know you want to help, but it might be best if you stay here. We don't know who took him or why. You could be in danger too."

I shake my head vehemently. "No. I can't just sit here and do nothing. He's out there somewhere, probably hurt. Maybe..." I can't finish the thought. "I need to help. Please, Travis."

He sighs. "We're waiting on Melissa's intel. Once we have that, we'll make a plan.”

“Have you spoken to his uncle?” I ask, hoping he may give us a lead.

“Yeah, I spoke to Jerry while I was on the way here. From what he said, they have had run-ins with Tommy Jennings and his crew.”

I grimace, thinking back to when Maverick and I first met when I was sixteen. The goons I ended up running over belonged to Tommy. “That still going on?” I ask, wondering how long a feud lasts. Surely being part of the Houlihan Gang would mean that it wouldn’t have gone on that long.

Travis’ mouth tightens. “Yeah, and that fucker’s daughter has risen in the ranks. From what I understand, Tanya Jennings is practically running the show.”

No, surely not. My blood runs cold at the mention of Tanya Jennings. I beat back the memories that flood back. I had hoped I would never hear that bitch’s name again.

"Lisa?" Travis' voice cuts through my panic. "You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

I swallow hard, trying to compose myself. "I... I know Tanya," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.

Travis' eyes widen. "What? How?"

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