Page 43 of Like An Animal
Bronwyn knew a very different Jeremy Borza. If she thought I was demanding and obsessive before, she won’t know what to do with the man I am now. With those changes comes a strength I lacked. Sure, I viciously killed strangers for just looking at her, but I sometimes hesitated. That caution is gone along with my willingness to handle disobedience.
I will kill anyone to reach the end goal I seek and that goal is my little ghost…and she’s fucking missing.
Massimo and Xavi were really pissed when they found out that it was Bronwyn that framed me, but it didn’t last long. They’re always considered her one of us and just like me, they knew that there had to be a reason.
They’ll be just as determined as I am to find her and bring her home. She might come back kicking and screaming, but shewillcome back.
I switch off the water and dry my hands. I pop my head out the door before muttering, “Get someone to clean this up. I’ll be out in a few.”
“A please would be nice, Borza.”
I close the bathroom door without saying another word before stripping off my clothes.
I don’t give a fuck what I have to do. I will find her.
CHAPTER 19
THE SHADOW
Ipush open the door, wrinkling my nose at the environment. Arnold, the hacker I pay to do whatever I need, is a filthy pig who can’t take care of himself. He can’t even be bothered to pick up his trash, but he doesn’t seem to mind the mess or the rancid smell. The one time I asked about the state of his place, the dirt and rotten food all over the place, he said it had something to do with a mental illness. It’s still gross. There’s a difference between someone who struggles to clean up after themselves and shower due to mental illness and someone that is just lazy. I have the feeling that Arnold’s situation is pure laziness.
Once a month, his mother comes and cleans up the place for him. She should be coming by in another week.
“Arnold,” I grumble under my breath as I walk into his office, shoving my hands in my pockets. I carefully step around all the trash as I make my way to his desk.
I swear, I need to hire a live-in maid for him. No one should live like this.
I’ve demolished human bodies with my bare hands and nothing has ever disgusted me like this.
“Yeah, boss?” he responds while taking a big bite out of what has to be a frozen burrito.
“I’ve got a job for you. I need you to find someone for me.”
He nods as he taps away on the computer.
“Give me a name, boss. I can find anyone on the face of this Earth, unless they have truly gone off grid. I can’t help you there, but let’s see what we can do.”
I expect answers from everyone, but I give Arnold leeway because I know he gives his all with every task I give him.
“Bronwyn Durst.” I rattle off all of her personal details, including her social security number. I doubt that will be very helpful though. If a private investigator couldn’t find her, she probably assumed a new identity, which is why Arnold is the only person I can come to with this.
“Feel free to have a seat. This may take a minute,” Arnold offers, motioning to the arm chair next to his desk, but I wrinkle my nose at the stack of old takeout boxes in said chair.
“I can stand,” I mutter, trying not to let my judgment show on my face. I was lucky enough to never live in squalor. That is the only good thing that Kathy ever gave me. Our house was never dirty, stinky, or filled with insects.
“Huh. That’s bizarre,” he grumbles.
“What?”
“All I’m finding is records from five years ago. Do you happen to have a picture or some footage of her? I can use my facial recognition program to look for her. It might be a few days before it catches her. There’s a lot of records to comb through.” I know if she’s anywhere to be found, he’ll find her. If not, I’ll be joining her in the unknown place between life and death.
There has only ever been one purpose of my life and it’s always been her. If she’s not breathing, there’s no point in me staying. Life has only ever brought me pain anyway.
Reaching into my pocket, I pull out a folded up photograph of Bronwyn. She had no idea I stole one of her school pictures so I could look at her face whenever I wanted. It’s not the real her. The real Bronwyn doesn’t smile like that. Her smiles are genuine and small while this one is big and fake to cover up all the fucked up shit we went through. No one can see you breaking if you smile big enough or laugh hard enough.
She felt like she had to hide it, but I never did. Everyone knew I was damaged goods by looking at me.
Arnold takes the picture and barely glances at it before placing it on the desk.
