Page 25 of Everest

After lunch, Zara and I arrive back at the office. The rest of the day is blurry with one client meeting after another. It’s nearly six o’clock by the time I make it home. I had plans to visit Mom, but when I checked in on her an hour ago, her nurse said she was sleeping and would probably be down for the rest of the night. I told them I’d stop by first thing in the morning before heading into the office to have breakfast with her.

I’m walking through the door to my apartment when my phone chimes with a text. The screen lights up, revealing its Journey. I inwardly groan because Journey texts only when she wants me to switch shifts with her. I’m too beat to work for the club tonight and contemplate ignoring her, but decide against it. If Journey needs me to take her shift, it would be for a good reason, and I can’t leave her hanging like that. But when I tap on her text it’s not what I thought it would be.

Journey:Amara was a no-show tonight. I’m worried about her.

A chill runs down my spine as I read the words.

Me:Maybe she’s sick. Did you try calling?

Journey’s reply is instant.

Journey:Yes. I called and left a voice message, and I texted several times, too. She hasn’t responded.

Me:Did you talk to Tony?

Journey:Yes. You know him though. He said he’d take care of it. I’m worried, Lon. I'll go by her place tonight and see if she’s there.

“Damn.” I blow out a breath. I could try to talk Journey out of going and letting Tony handle things, but I feel she won’t listen. We’ve all rallied behind Amara to help her get away from her asshole boyfriend, and so far, she has shown no signs of goingback to him since he gave her a black eye a couple of weeks ago. Her not showing up to work has me concerned.

Me:Where are you?”

Journey:I’m at home. I’ve got one of the other girls to take my shift so I can look for Amara.

I close my eyes and tip my head back toward the ceiling. “This is a bad idea, London.”

Blowing out a breath, I text Journey back.

Me:Send me your address. I’m coming with you.

Ten minutes later, I head out the door after changing out of my work clothes and putting on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. I follow the GPS directions to an older but well-maintained neighborhood about fifteen minutes outside New Orleans. When I pull into a driveway, I spot Journey climbing down her porch steps toward my car.

“You know Tony is going to kill us if he finds out what we’re doing,” I remark as she slides into the passenger seat.

“What Tony doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Journey replies.

The address Journey has for Amara leads us to a not-so-great-looking neighborhood. Amara once mentioned she inherited her grandparents’ house when they passed. I imagine years ago, this was a neighborhood that thrived, but now it looks run down.

“I think this is it.” Journey points to the small yellow house to our right. I park across the street and cut the engine. Journey and I don’t exit the car right away. I survey the surrounding houses and note that Amara's is the only one that looks kept up. The grass is cut, and a small flower bed is out front. The house is not much to look at, but Amara has taken pride in her yard. The sun has set, but there is no porch light on at Amara’s house, and the streetlight I’m parked under doesn’t work.

“What are you thinking?” Journey asks.

“I don’t know. I say we knock on the door and see if she’s home.”

Just as we are about to exit the car, the front door to the house swings open, and two men wearing suits walk out.

“Fuck,” I hiss. “Get down.” Journey and I crouch down.

“Shit, Lon. You think they saw us?”

When I chance a peek out the windshield. A black SUV appears out of nowhere and rolls to a stop at the end of the driveway. Then I watch the two men who just came out of Amara’s house climb into the SUV.

“I don’t think they saw us. They’re gone.”

Journey sits up. “What now?”

“We get the fuck out of here,” I say. “I don’t know what’s going on with Amara, but I don’t have a good feeling."

Suddenly, a shadowy figure appears at my driver’s side window, causing us to scream. The figure leans down, showing their face.

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