Page 31 of Brando

My heart races with excitement as I move from room to room, my mind racing with possibilities for our future life together. It’s like that every time I leave the penthouse, which is becoming rarer these days. I miss her every second of every minute that I’m away from her and I find myself rushing back home to be with her again.

A sense of dread settles in the pit of my stomach as I search the entire penthouse and realize she’s nowhere to be found. We talked about this; she wouldn’t just leave without letting me know where she’s going. But the place is locked down tighter than Fort Knox, and there’s only one way she could’ve left; through the front entry.

With each passing moment, my anxiety morphs into a simmering rage. The realization that she’s gone hits me like a punch to the gut. She’s gone.

“Damn it!” I shout, my voice reverberating off the walls. In a fit of rage, I kick over a chair, watching it crash to the floor. Ipace the room, fists clenched, anger coursing through my veins like fire.

My mind races back to the night before, to the way she had kissed me, the way she had looked into my eyes with that haunting vulnerability she possessed. A sickening feeling washes over me as I realization dawns on me. Had she known? Had she known that she’d be leaving me?

My anger boils over as I grab a lamp from a side table and hurl it across the room. It shatters against the wall, a cascade of glass and metal scattering across the floor. I roar until my voice feels hoarse and the sound echoes in the hollow space around me.

I sink to the floor, the weight of my emotions crashing over me like a tidal wave. The realization that she had once again left me gnaws at me, filling me with a sense of helplessness.

I bury my head in my hands, the pain of her absence a physical ache in my chest. I had underestimated her resolve, her strength, her commitment and loyalty to me, and now it feels like I’ve lost another part of myself. Just when I’d found her again, she was gone.

“Mia.”

Her name is a whisper on my lips as I collapse in on myself. I have to call it for what it is. We had agreed that she would not, under any circumstances, leave the apartment alone. For her own safety, as well as her being accessible when we found out anything about her sisters. But for some reason, she’s just left, and I can only imagine she’s running away. From me. From life. From all the worries she’s been plagued with lately. It’s too much for her. I’m angry and I’m mad and I’m resentful that she would find it so easy to pick herself up and leave. Where would she even go?

I feel like I’m kicking my pride in the guts, but I can’t help it. I won’t let her go without a fight. I did that before. I allowed herto get away from me. But I won’t allow it this time. The world around me fades to nothing as I cling to the promise I make to myself; that I would find her and bring her back, no matter the cost.

The door slidesopen and he steps out of the elevator and into my apartment, looking like he’s just taken a beating. Mason Ironside is a sight to behold when he is a broken man. And I’m a bastard, but I can’t help myself; I kick him when he’s down.

“Wherewereyou?!” I roar. He was supposed to be here with Mia this morning. She couldn’t have left if he was here to keep her company. I know I’m being unreasonable and it’s my anger talking, but I’m so mad, I could smash something, so I hurl accusation after accusation at him. When I know that neither of us is to blame. I checked the cameras; Mia walked out of the penthouse and out onto the street voluntarily. With a look of resigned sadness on her face, but she walked herself out, nonetheless.

He pushes me off him when I get up in his face. That’s not something that’s generally acceptable in our circle, but I allow him this one concession as he raises his voice and lets out a string of curses.

He pauses long enough to swipe a finger across the screen of his phone and hands me the device. I look down at the screen, my eyes scanning the message once, twice, then a third time, as though hoping for a different outcome every time I read the message. But each time I read the message, my jaw clicks harder, angrier.

I called him after I lost my shit when I realized Mia wasn’t at the apartment and finally common sense prevailed. I had hopedthat she’d be with him, or possibly back at her apartment. But neither scenario rung true, and it was only after he was on his way to see me so we could strategize her return that he got the SMS from her.

I skim over the message a fourth time, not sure what outcome I’m hoping for.

“I’ve gone to meet with Frank and I don’t know when I’ll be back. He has the twins. A few days and you can expect the girls to be home. I need you to trust that I know what I’m doing, and I’ll be home soon. Don’t fuck this up for me, Mason; I have my big girl pants on.”

“Fuck!”

The fact that she’s gone back to Frank Falcone has ice slithering through my veins. My anger swells, and an all-consuming thirst to hit something, ruin something, envelopes me. I somehow can’t believe that this is happening, and I have to take a step back and think for a moment. Think about everything I know and gather together all the bits and pieces of the puzzle in order to understand how we got here.

But my anger gets the better of me; I kick the nearest wall and dent the plaster. I throw the phone across the room and break a vase when the phone bounces off it. Mason pulls at his hair with his hands, teeth clenched, about to have a nervous breakdown. I realize if I don’t calm down, I’ll probably have to deal with his crazy coming out, but I can’t help it. Maybe crazy is what I need right now.

“How could she fuckingdothis!” I roar, my anger unleashing.

“Brando…”

“The man is a psychopath! How can she not see that?”

Mason walks around the foyer, muttering to himself, seemingly trying to hold on to the last remnants of his sanity. I calm down enough to watch him quietly, my own angersubsiding as I try to understand where his is coming from. He was angry when the twins went missing, but Mia is a whole other ballgame. The man looks like he’s literally about to jump off the edge of a cliff if I don’t calm him down.

I put aside my own torment as I continue to watch him in fascination. He walks to the nearest wall and leans up against it, before sliding down until he’s sitting on the ground, his head between his knees. He is a man defeated. A man that’s come undone. And regardless of my own pain, my own anger, this is a man who’s known Mia all his life. The way he tells it, he practically raised her. The way she tells it, he was more a father to her than her own flesh and blood.

“Mason.” It’s like he doesn’t even hear me. “Mason.” I’m more forceful this time, and he lifts his head to look up, his dull eyes looking through me. In the past five minutes, the man has aged an additional ten years. “I need you to pull yourself together,” I tell him. “We’re going to find her, and we’re going to bring her home. She and the twins.”

He shakes his head, a look of resignation on his face as he rubs at his head.

“You read the message,” he says, and I nod. I did read the message, and I did get the memo. She doesn’t want anyone interfering, but that doesn’t mean we won’t. If Frank Falcone has her sisters, and I have no doubt that he does, because it’s the only scenario that actually makes sense – it means the man is planning something and he has an endgame. He’s more dangerous than we give him credit for. The twins are his leverage over Mia so he can make her go back to him – that means this whole thing was meticulously planned, and there’s a bigger picture here that we’re not seeing.

“I did read the message, but that doesn’t mean I’m giving up on her. You can’t, either.”

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