Chapter 10
I’d been a little disappointed. When I’d imagined a gang hideout, I’d pictured abandoned crack dens. Empty cellars. Even maybe a dilapidated old house, strewn with glass and the shredded memories. But this was little more than a large warehouse.
I watched them from the rearview window of the car, watching them skid to a halt, leaning their bikes against the rusted wall. I was fidgeting nervously. Was coming here a stupid mistake? I didn’t know why I was being so impulsive, all I knew was that the thing I wanted the most right now was to see him and make sure Cay was okay. Horrific images ran through my mind, mainly scenes I’d watched on CNN about mob shootouts. I pictured the blood, heard the screams and imagined the dead bodies littering the ground.
What if Cay became one of those bodies?
My fingers were shaking so badly I had to fight to keep them still.
How badly was he hurt? Was he still conscious? Would he be able to talk to me?
“Are you okay, Lady Moore? You look awfully pale.”
I gave a weak smile.
“I’m fine.”
“Do you want me to get you some water?” he suggested. “I think I saw a coffee shop half a mile back.”
With my eyes still locked on the rearview mirror, I nodded mechanically, unable to really process his offer. Sam smiled again, stepping out of the car, locking the door behind him.
“Don’t open the door for anyone. I’ll be back as soon as possible.”
Then he was gone and I was sat alone in the silence, still watching the warehouse from the rearview mirror. I immediately regretted sending Sam away. Now that I was alone, I was feeling a lot more intimidated. I wondered again if I was stupid for coming here. When I’d come, I thought I would see Cay, he would see me, our eyes would meet, and I would finally know in my heart the answer to the question that had been asked for a millennia.
But that’s just a fantasy.
Somehow, my thoughts lingered to Cay. I thought of his cute messy hair, his yes, his smile. Even that little scar on his upper lip seemed sexy. I blushed. What would kissing those lips be like? I touched my lips – no, Poison Ivy’s lips – and I imagined what it would be like for Cay to press his mouth against mine. I blushed, embarrassed by the thought.
I heard the sound of several motorbike revving. Pressing my face against the black tinted window, I could just about make out the distant shapes of three motorbikes speeding away. Damn it. My only lead to Cay was gone, and Sam had gone, so I couldn’t even follow them.
I jumped when someone rapped against the window. I squinted, but the sky outside was dark and the face was blurred by the tinted glass. Still, I assumed it was Sam. About time, too. I’d been thinking about it and had realized that coming here had been a bad idea. If any, it would have been far too embarrassing to let Cay know I’d been here, let alone worried about him. I would see Cay tomorrow, anyway. Surely it could wait that long.
But if Cay didn’t come in tomorrow, I would definitely look for him.
I rolled down the window.
“Sam, I really think we should leave –”
The words died on my lips. It wasn’t Sam.
“Are you lost, babe?”
It was a guy, about my age bearing the unmistakable marks of a recent fistfight. He had a black eye and his lip was busted, but otherwise he would have been passably attractive, tall with dark hair and eyes.
