Page 132 of Bloom: Part 2

After what felt like an eternity, the footsteps passed the office again, then faded into the distance. Dr. Simms lowered the gun and moved toward the window. He raised the gun, pointing at whatever it was he saw.

“Bastard ruined my whole plan,” he muttered. “I should kill him on the spot. He’s the reason everything is such a mess.”

No, please, don’t.

He let the blinds fall to a close. His face was drawn in a tight, cold mask, the corners of his lips turned downward in a tense scowl. “After they leave, we’ll wait an hour. Then we’ll get out of here. It’s not safe being in Smoky Vale anymore.”

My heart sank. I couldn’t let him take me out of Smoky Vale. Then the chances of being found were even less. I had to fight him. Logan and the bikers had come and gone. I would need to rescue myself.

39

LOGAN

Bloom had been missing for hours, and my composure was unraveling fast. Every second that passed felt like an eternity, every dead end tightening the noose around my sanity. I paced the casino like a caged animal, clenching and unclenching my fists at my sides. The air was heavy and thick from the growing frustration. We’d run out of options and had regrouped back at the casino to plan our next moves.

“I don’t get it.” Mort’s deep voice cut through the tense silence. He had his massive arms crossed over his chest, his frown as grim as the rest of the faces around me. “His cell phone showed his last location was in that building. I was so fucking sure we’d find them at Dr. Simms’s office.”

So was I. Every time Bloom had wanted to find me, he had. Why did the one time I needed to find him prove to be hopeless?

“The good thing is that we have time,” Grimm said. “If Simms wanted to kill Bloom, he would’ve done it right there, same as he did when he shot…”

Max.

Grimm might not have said his name, but we all knew he was thinking about Max who was fighting for his life. The room fell silent, pressing and somber. The weight of Max’s fate hung in the air, unspoken but impossible to ignore. Jamie was a fine doctor, and Max was his friend. He would do everything in his power to save him, but even Jamie had limits. He didn’t control life and death. None of us did.

“Any word from Crowe?” I asked, my voice tight. “Is anyone else at the hospital with him?”

“Chris is there, and Saint went to check up on him but nothing yet,” Gerald said. He’d been plastered to Bay’s side since we’d returned from Dr. Simms’s building. I didn’t blame him. I wanted to hold Bloom in the same way and never let him go.

“No news is good news.” Uncle Mickey placed a bottle of water in front of me. I’d forgotten he was still around. I took the bottle gratefully. My throat was parched.

“Thanks, Uncle Mickey.” I twisted off the cap and took a long sip, savoring the cool liquid as it rushed down my throat.

“No worries. If you want, I can get you more men from New York by morning. We can have them scour Smoky Vale from top to bottom and find that bastard.”

Normally, I wanted nothing to do with my family’s soldiers, but I was desperate to find Bloom. Still, my uncle’s men were the type to kill first and ask questions later. That wasn’t the kind of havoc I wanted to wreak on Smoky Vale.

But if that was what it took…

“If we still haven’t come up with an answer by morning.” I caught Grimm’s frown. He didn’t seem keen on the Mafia invading his territory, but he didn’t say anything.

“What do we do now?” Bay slammed his fist into his open palm, the sharp sound echoing in the room. “The longer he’s gone, the harder it’ll be to find him.”

“We’ve got to find him,” I muttered.

The door burst open, and Noose and Whip strode in, carrying two boxes between them.

“We didn’t think it safe to check through these at Dr. Simms’s house.” Noose set the boxes on the table. “We grabbed what we could from his office. Maybe we can find some clues as to where he could have taken Bloom.”

“Open them.” I stepped closer as Whip ripped the tape off the first box. Inside were personal effects—papers, folders, and a few small, nondescript items. We dove in, sorting through them with desperate focus, every scrap of paper a potential clue.

“What exactly are we looking for?” Uncle Mickey asked.

“Anything that can be a clue. Literally anything.”

We poured over the countless documents, scanning for any hint of an address or location. One by one, pieces of paper were inspected, then discarded onto a growing pile.

Someone stormed into the casino. I looked up, hoping for Bloom, though I knew this was unlikely. Crowe raced toward me, his face a mask of fury. My heart skipped a beat, dread pooling in my stomach.

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