Page 74 of Merciless King

“Thanks again for this,” he said.

“It’s fine.” I was starting to feel weird. Kind of heavy. Dizzy. I turned to Terrence and had to throw an arm out to balance myself. He was watching me. He didn’t look sad anymore. He was…smiling. That crawling feeling intensified. I stumbled.

He caught me. “It’s going to be okay.” He slid an arm around my waist and leaned in close.

I wanted to shove him away, but my limbs felt weak, weighted down.

“It’ll all be over soon,” he said against my ear.

I couldn’t make my mouth move, and when I finally managed to speak, my voice came out slurred. He led me to the edge of the street. Then I was in a car, a cab, while he rattled off an address and told the driver he needed to get me home, that I’d drunk too much.

Everything was a blur after that, snapshots of consciousness, before I was sucked back under.

* * *

Van

I knocked on London’s door again. Nothing.

I tried her phone. Again, nothing.

Something was way the hell off.

Pulling the lock pick from my wallet, I quickly got the door open. No London. The bathroom was empty as well. Everything in me said this wasn’t right.

Fuck.

I locked her place back up and, trying to keep my cool, headed back downstairs. Albert was at his desk and looked up when I strode over to him. He stumbled back a step.

What the fuck?

I frowned. “Has London Rivera been back to the apartment building tonight?”

His gaze widened a little then darted away. He shook his head. “I’m, ah, not at liberty to give out that information.”

No one was down there but us and I wasn’t in the mood to pussyfoot around with this asshole. I reached across the desk, grabbed the front of his shirt, and yanked him forward, slamming his head down on the desk. “Has she been back tonight?”

He gasped.

“Tell me. Now.”

“S-she left with a guy. He’d been waiting for her to get home,” he blurted.

“What did he look like?”

“Smallish guy, blond.”

“Does he live in the building?”

He shook his head.

I eased up my hold on the guy and he lifted his head. “Where was he waiting for her?”

Albert was sweating, flushed, that gaze still darting around.

“Where?” I barked.

“Her apartment door.”