any hope of disappearing would’ve been gone because I’d have had no anonymity.”
Nodding slowly again, he murmured, “Makes sense.”
“I left a couple of days later in the trunk of my neighbor’s car, and I kept changing vehicles every eight hours because we didn’t know what kind of intel Cevdet had. Dad knows Alex, so he spoke to him, and he recommended Piersville. Dave and Tabby came to meet me, and I relocated here.”
He didn’t say a word when I finished, and my palms started to get sweaty as the silence dragged on. Finally—effing finally—he dropped his head and sighed.
“What in the fuck is wrong with people? I spent years involved in shit overseas with terrorists and stains on the souls of society, and all the time we’ve got assholes like this here?” His head snapped up, and he glared at the wall behind me. “Do people even watch international news and take it in? Do they even think that with that shit going on somewhere else, it’d be nice to keep their home country clean and fresh?”
I wasn’t sure if he was looking for me to reply or just letting off steam, but I squeaked, “No?”
When his eyes moved to me, and I was now on the receiving end of the glare, I wanted to sink into the couch and hide.
“No, they fucking don’t.” Then he stood up and started pacing. “Like your dad could’ve prevented the guy from slipping. Yeah, he shouldn’t have been up there with her in the first place, but the guy—”
“Cevdet Gjorka.”
Frowning at me, he repeated, “Cevdet Gjorka should be taking a huge chunk of the responsibility for this on his shoulders. He was the one who went into business with the man, and the man was holding the daughter on the roof because of that business. And why hasn’t he been arrested?”
This was the truly fucked up bit. “There’s no evidence that it’s him. He’s been arrested and questioned but was released without charge on all of the occasions. He always had a solid alibi, and nothing was ever found to tie him to it,” I sighed.
“And corruption,” he guessed correctly.
“And we think corruption.”
“Fuck,” he hissed. “So, where does that leave your dad?”
“I haven’t spoken to him in a year, but Dave and Alex have told me that he and Mom are still alive. That’s all I know.” My stomach turned saying it, but it’s all that I was safe knowing.
“Is he still in New York?”
“As far as I’m aware.”
“Jesus Christ!”
I was so focused on watching him walk around in circles that I missed it when Clyde got up and carefully sank his teeth into the bottom of Garrett’s pants, then started tugging on them. Initially, it looked like he was playing, but then I realized he was trying to stop him from walking around. When Garrett did what he wanted, he got up on his hind legs and lay his head on his stomach with a groan.
Looking up at him wide-eyed, I asked, “Is that his training? Like he hugs you when you’re upset?”
Garrett looked just as shocked and confused as I was. “I’ve got no idea, but I have to say it kinda worked.”
“Better than a baby with diarrhea?”
Shuddering, he hugged Clyde back and scratched behind his ear. “Okay, man, we’re good. I just needed a moment to vent and let some steam off. Thanks for the hug.”
With another groan, Clyde was back down again and walking toward me to put his head back in my lap.
I really needed to look the breed up because I wanted to know what he was going to look like once he was fully grown, plus it might give me an idea what kind of personality they had, too.
Growing up in New York, we’d had an apartment with no space or time for a pet. My neighbors had cats and tiny dogs, but I never really had time to learn about what breeds they were, or even dog and cat breeds in general. I wasn’t dumb, they came in all shapes and sizes, their coats were all different, and their personalities were as well.
Still, I could only really name and identify the most common ones like chihuahuas—thank you, Taco Bell—and Labradors. Oh, and German Shepherds.
This time when Garrett sat down, he took his usual seat beside me on the sofa. “So, where does this leave you?”
“With the name Zuri Hadid, working as a phlebotomist at Piersville Hospital, with a cool broken arm—again,” I joked, waving my