Page 83 of Sloth
Oh shit.
Tony had not been well during their mission to the black site. He’d been erratic, irritated, sick. His dependency on alcohol and substances had taken a hold of him. She knew as well as anyone that if not kept in check, their sin had a way of sneaking up on them and her heart went out to her brother. With so much going on in their lives, she wondered if he’d had time to talk to anyone about his situation—besides Parker and his bossiness.
She’d been so intent on finding Max that she’d failed to think about Tony’s plight. Only a few short months ago, she’d admonished Wyatt for selfishly abandoning their family, for abandoning her, when he knew she needed him.
She owed Tony more. He didn’t have a mate to balance his sin out. Like Parker and Liza, he was fighting a silent battle—alone. That was fucking hard.
Sloan searched the large training room for Tony. Gym equipment, mirrors, and a central rubber mat for sparring. No windows. A bench on one side. Boxing bags on another. Parker had recently installed a huge flat screen on one wall that was connected to AIMI so they could monitor anything they wanted while keeping themselves fit and fighting ready.
No Tony.
Unconsciously, she tugged on her ponytail with the intent of stuffing the end into her mouth. She was still frowning at her hair in her fingers when Tony entered the room. Honed to perfection, his movie star body was the epitome of buff and a lot of hard work. She knew he kept regular personal training sessions, separate to his time here at Lazarus House. His appearance was picked apart by the tabloids. He had a stylist, a nutritionist, an agent, a publicist, and personal shopper. But he had no entourage, no assistant, no friends. Only brief hook-ups. Their life prohibited close connections and Parker was the first to remind everyone of that commitment.
The Deadly Seven were often vilified in the media. Nobody liked vigilantes taking the law into their own hands, but the lowering crime rates spoke enough. It was just coming to Sloan’s attention that the media also crapped on Tony in his personal life. If gluttony was knocking on his door, he couldn’t eat—he would put on weight and the media would have a field day. She felt bad enough about letting herself go without the paparazzi watching her every move. So if he couldn’t satisfy the urges of his sin with food, he was left with sex and substances, and since being in a relationship where the partner was not his mate seemed counterintuitive, he had to get his sexual kicks from different sources, often.
“Sloan,” Tony greeted as he dumped a water bottle on the side bench. He wore a pair of loose shorts, and a navy blue singlet that hugged his ripped torso. He swept his short, brown hair off his forehead as he flicked his gaze her way. “How’s the search going?”
“Same as before. No leads.”
“That sucks.”
“Yeah, but I have Sara’s old cell. I’m going to try to bring it back to life after this, so hopefully I’ll find something on it.”
“You don’t sound convinced.”
“If I was, I wouldn’t be standing here.” She sighed. “The truth is, it’s a Hail Mary, but I have to keep trying.”
Tony strode to a wall that housed gym supplies. Towels, weights, and a water station. He pulled a towel from a folded pile and returned. “And what about the Nightingale Securities team?”
She frowned. Keeping Nightingale Securities cool about Max’s disappearance had been tough. As professionals, they knew Max would notify them before going anywhere. Parker had told them he’d been tasked with a top-secret assignment and will explain when they get back. They’d retrieved Max’s cell from the side of the road it was discarded and faked a message to his team. It was enough to keep them satisfied. Just. But if Max never—
Don’t go there.
“Sloan?”
“Sorry, was thinking about our excuse with the Nightingale team running into an expiration date. We’ll have to think of something else to tell them soon.”
“What if we bring them into the fold? Can they provide assistance?”
“What can they do that I can’t?” she scoffed.
“I heard one of them was CIA in a past life.”
“She’s not now. Besides, we’re not supposed to know that and I don’t want to go over there. I’m not a good liar and they’re getting antsy.”
He rubbed his chin. “Yeah, Tom-Tom and Daymo served with Max for many years. They won’t last much longer.”
“It’s the woman. She’s the one who’s been hounding us.”
Tony perked up. “A woman?”
Sloan rolled her eyes. “That’s the one who was in the CIA.”
“I didn’t know that.” He frowned. “Is she old?”
“God, you’re hopeless.”
That earned Sloan a sly smirk. “I volunteer as tribute to go over and update them on our fake story. I can say Max has been reassigned somewhere else.”
