here?” I ask, feigning annoyance.
He nods and pushes back from the desk, standing. His imposing stature would make a grown man cower, but he doesn’t have that effect on me. At least, he didn’t before. Now that he knows about Brie, I have no idea what the plan is or what the hell he could be hiding from the surveillance video.
“We’re done. Look, I know you’re pissed I’m here. I don’t like showing up out of the blue, but he went off the grid earlier, and when he resurfaced at Philadelphia International, I got here as soon as I could to figure out what the hell he was up to. Now that he’s taken her, however, I’m handing this mess over to you. Find them and figure out how much he knows. We’ll reassess the situation after that.”
None of this makes any sense. How the hell did Adrian find out what I was doing here? And what was he telling Brie? Suddenly, finding her became even more necessary.
“Got it, Boss. You sticking around for this?”
“No, I trust you have a handle on it. My attention is needed elsewhere.” His eyes flick to my cell, and I’m relieved I have the correct one. “Just try to keep in contact at all times.”
The doorbell rings and he glances in the direction of the hall.
“This is where we part ways, Matthews. I’ve got a flight to catch. Be careful, and don’t let me down. I don’t want to have to come back to Philadelphia to clean up your messes.” With a dismissive wave, he picks his briefcase up and strolls out of the room.
My chest deflates as I let out a deep breath. I stare at the computer for a moment, my curiosity wondering what he’s hiding. The computer will hopefully still be here upon my return. Right now, Brie needs me.
With one last painstaking look, I exit the way I came in. As I retrace my steps down the tunnel, I try calling her phone, pleading for her to pick up. It’s a lost cause, but I can’t help it. Over and over again, I get her voicemail, but I keep ringing back as if, one of these times, she’ll pick up.
Then, like a fucking lifeline, my phone vibrates and I breathe out a sigh of relief at her incoming text message. It’s short-lived, however, as she details what she can, telling me most of what I’d already seen on the video.
But there’s one part she tells me that I didn’t know. She was drugged—not by Adrian.
That little tidbit nearly sends me over the edge. I force myself to take a deep breath as I hop in my car, typing out a promise that I’m coming for her. I hope it’s one I can actually keep.
This is a motherfucking mess, and for the first time, I’m not sure how I’m going to get out of it. At least, not with us together. But first things first: I have to get her back.
That’s when I get closer to the shrill of the sirens.
The dot on the screen stops moving.
And when I pull up to the scene, so does my heart.
“ISN’T IT BEAUTIFUL, SWEETHEART?” My mother’s soprano lilt echoes through the dense fog in my mind.
The sound lifts my heart, filling it fully. It’s been so long since I’ve heard her melodic voice. I struggle to open my eyes, wanting to see her after so much time apart but terrified of what awaits me. What the implications of her presence are.
“Gabriella?”
My name on her lips is the most beautiful melody in my previously ringing ears, and it’s the encouragement I need to finally open my eyes. When I do, my breath catches. I’m in the nursery of my childhood home. Confusion settles in, coupled with delight, as I slowly turn and see her—my beautiful, exquisite mother—sitting in the rocking chair next to what was once my bassinet.
“M-mom?” I gasp, reaching my hand out then pulling it back. It’s conflicting, the desire to touch her, to make sure she’s really here, but not wanting to know if I’ve truly met my end. If she’s here to lead me to the other side. I’m not sure I’m ready.
Her eyes are wide and fascinated, fixated on the wall directly in front of her. She tilts her head to the side, studying whatever she’s looking at. I wish she were looking at me. What has her so engrossed when I—her daughter—am right here? Cautiously, I follow her gaze.