TorrieHe’s late. He’s never been late before.
I check my phone for the fourth time in the past minute, then remind myself: you’ve only met him two times before, and the first wasn’t planned. You’re being stupid, there is no “always” with someone you barely know.
Still, with everything that’s gone down these past few hours, I’d be stupid not to be worried.
I had to block Carlos’ number on my phone, he’s been calling me so much.
I already got his and Clarence’s 20 other panicked messages: that our office was found, that none other than Gavin Pierson and his men came knocking, guns in hand. That Carlos and the others barely escaped at all.
It took all I had to respond merely with: Do what you have to. Get out of there. Will discuss tomorrow, after Carlos basically ordered me home.
I’m n
