Page 105 of Long Gone

“You say they searched the house?”

“My father’s office and my parents’ bedroom, but there’s no point in looking. They didn’t find anything. I already looked.” Not in my parents’ room, but my father never would have stored contracts in there. I glanced down, taking note of the metal embedded in my skin. A dull pain was beginning to appear, but I knew it was a precursor of what was about to set in. “Maybe we should just take it out. I told you I’m not going to the hospital, and it has to come out at some point.”

“Leave it. I have someone who can take care of it.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Who?”

“You’ll just have to trust me.”

“Trust you?” I asked with a laugh that bordered on hysterical. “I’m still not convinced you didn’t send those guys to find my father’s paperwork.”

His body stilled. “What paperwork?”

“Great way to play dumb.”

He looked like he was about to argue with me, but instead he said, “We need to go. You’re as white as a sheet and about to pass out.”

“I’m not sure I want to go to some dirty backroom somewhere. I’ll take care of it myself.” I got to my feet and swayed, reaching out for the table with my left hand for balance.

“Jesus Christ,” he spat out in disgust. “It’s not a dirty backroom. I’m fucking offended.” Then, before I could react, he scooped me up in his arms and headed for the back door.

“What are you doing?” I asked, trying to push him away, but my left arm was pinned, and when I raised my right one, sharp pain shot through my upper chest. There it was.

“Don’t squirm,” he said. “You’re making it worse.” He headed out the back door, leaving it open as he made his way to the passenger side of my car.

“The keys are in my purse on the kitchen table.”

He went through the back door and came out with my purse, climbing into the driver’s seat, then pulling out of the driveway.

“You must really like driving my car,” I said, sleepiness overtaking me. “You drive it a lot.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t put yourself in situations where you can’t drive.”

“Next time I’ll try to stay away from exploding doors.”

The hint of smile lifted his lips.

“Where are you taking me?”

He darted a glance to me, then back to the road. “Trust me.”

“Trust you?” I retorted indignantly. “You keep things from me. You knew my father owned Hugo’s office building and didn’t tell me.”

“I didn’t tell you because I knew you might not believe it if it came from me. Better for you to hear it from someone else.”

He said it with conviction, and it made sense. I wanted to believe him, which also made me doubt myself.

“Did you know he cleaned out the office before Floyd told us?” I asked.

“No.”

“Did you know he drew up the contracts for Hugo? Or that he was an investor?”

He swore under his breath. “No.”

“Something has him scared. He didn’t want me asking questions.” I released a bitter laugh. “I guess we know why.” But if they came here and didn’t find what they were looking for, they might go to his new house next. Or the law office. “We have to go to my dad’s house.”

“The fuck we do,” he snapped.

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