each of her scars memorised, but I wasn’t sure anymore. I wanted to taste them on my tongue, trace them with my fingers, replicate them on my own flesh, just to feel closer to her.
My phone started ringing and for a moment I almost let it go to voicemail, not caring who was calling me or why. But then my brain kicked into gear and I remembered it was the middle of the night and very few people even had this damn number.
I checked the ID and my frown deepened at the unknown caller. The last time I’d been contacted from an unknown number it had been Hernandez setting me up in that fucking nightclub. If it was him again, I’d be sure not to fall into any traps this time.
I answered the call, pushing myself to sit up in the bed and swivelling so my feet landed on the floor.
“What?” I barked. It was four am after all and I could have been asleep.
“Erm...Is this Nicoli Romero?” a hesitant female voice came down the line and my frown deepened.
“Who’s asking?”
“My name is Elsa...we kinda met a few weeks ago outside a bar in the lower east side? The Satin Press?”
I scoured my brain for a moment then realised that was the name of the bar where I’d had to see Enzo getting his dick sucked. I was still sporting the mental scarring, but I had been trying to block that night from my mind forever.
“Me and a few other girls were working that night and you gave us a pay-out. Asked us to call you if we found any information on a guy called Duke Polinsky...?”
My pulse quickened at the sound of that scumbag’s name. I’d had to forget my hunt for him while my savage girl was still missing, but I abso-fucking-lutely wanted to know where that motherfucker was if she had the information.
“You know where he is?” I demanded, not caring that I was close to shouting and probably freaking her the fuck out.
“You still paying for that info?” she asked in reply, a slight shake to her voice but a dollop of determination too.
“How much?” I asked.
There was a long pause where I guessed she was trying to figure out how much she could get away with. But whatever she said, I’d happily pay it twice to get my hands on that son of a bitch. He was the last man left alive who had put his fucking hands on my girl and I’d be damned if I wasn’t going to squeeze the life out of him just as soon as I could.
“A thousand,” she said, almost making it a question as her fear for me coloured her words.
“If you can lead me to him then it’s yours,” I agreed and I almost felt bad as she actually squealed with excitement.
“I’ll text you my address and you can come give me the money. I’ll tell you everything then,” she said and I could tell she was afraid of making demands on me like that, but it would have been a dumb move on her part to give up the information I needed before the cash was in her hands.
“I’ll be there within the hour.” I hung up with my heart pounding excitedly. Finally, there was something I could do for Winter even if I still wasn’t any closer to finding her.
I pushed myself upright and tugged open the top drawer of my desk, grabbing a thousand dollars in cash and hesitating as I looked at the rest of the money in there before grabbing that too. It was over ten K but I didn’t care. If Elsa pulled through on this for me and I got my hands on Duke Polinsky then she’d be getting a ten thousand dollar tip when I was done and she’d have Romero protection for life as a bonus.
The text with her address came through and I wasn’t surprised to see that it was out in the lower east part of town, some old apartment block which had a reputation for the clientele being up for sale.
I pulled on a shirt and a pair of jeans, grabbing the nine millimetre glock from my nightstand, followed by the hunting knife which I strapped to my belt before kicking on a pair of solid boots. I didn’t care about looking the part of the sophisticated mobster tonight or dressing in my best Romero style, designer label suit. If Frankie hadn’t stolen all of