Page 23 of Volatile Obsessions

? Gasoline - Halsey ?

Istared at the note on my desk for a good ten minutes, reading the finely scripted message over and over again.

Enraged.

Scandalized.

Befuddled.

I felt a little bit of everything as I sat back in my throne and clenched my hands around the arm rests to keep myself in place. I was ready to run a rampage through the streets until I found this wanker and dragged him to hell.

Let’s chat, shall we?

Was he serious?

Did he think this little charade would grapple my attention in a good way? That I’d be impressed and oh so very pleased to meet with him for a fucking chat?

Piss off with that shit.

How the hell did he expect for us to chat when I didn’t know a thing about him. Not one damn thing. I didn’t even know who he was, for fucks sake.

Clearly, he knew all about me, though. Knew where to find me, how to hurt me. Something that never should’ve happened when I paid Roscoe good money to man the cams overnight.

Where the hell was he during this fiasco?

I didn’t hear a single word from him until 7 this morning and he sounded utterly baffled as he delivered the news. Claimed the alarm system never triggered during the hours Phantom and his boys waltzed right in and destroyed everything.

Because that’s what they’d done, destroyed everything I’d worked so hard to build in under ten minutes, and it all happened in perfect succession, too.

Phantom came into view first, alone. He glanced around, then inched up on his toes to stare into the lens, his masked face cocking around in a creepy fashion. On his signal, the rest of his calvary trickled into the frame, all masked as well. I swear I counted at least thirty bodies filtering in after Phantom somehow bypassed the lock code. Worst part was not seeing how he did it. Smart ass turned his back and blocked out the view. Once the last guy slipped inside, he offered a two-finger salute and slipped his way inside as well, like he owned the damn place.

Cunt.

By this point, I’d watched the footage over twenty times, speculating a little harder and focusing on something else each time around in hopes of finding a clue.

But there was nothing.

No clues.

No finger prints.

No trails.

Nothing.

The more I thought about it, the more my temper threatened to best me. I squeezed the phone in my grasp and counted to ten, silently cussing out Ellie for taking so long to pick up my call. What was she doing out there?

“What’s up, L?” she answered after a beat, slightly out of breath.

“I need Vic and Roscoe in here, stat,” I growled.

“Will d—”

Click.

I slammed the phone down so hard, I’m surprised I didn’t crack the damn thing, my chest heaving like I’d just ran a mile. I hadn’t been this infuriated in a long time. Wasn’t my PA’s fault, I knew that, but the girl was rather oblivious sometimes and I was on the verge of a breakdown. I needed answers and I needed them now.

Time seemed to stand still as I waited for Vic and Roscoe to show their mugs. What part of ASAP didn’t they understand? In reality, I didn’t wait anymore than ten minutes, but that was two minutes too long. Didn’t take that long to walk their asses up the stairs, which led me to wonder where they were and what they were doing.

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