When we arrive home, I stumble on the front step. My knee buckles, and almost gives out, and Mila grabs me with a gasp.
“I think maybe you should use crutches. At least until surgery.”
“It’s not a bad idea. The damn thing gives out whenever it wants to.” Plus, it’s almost impossible to bear weight… and it gets worse every day.
“I’ll have Natasha stop at a drug store on her way home.”
I nod. “Thanks.”
She heads to peek in on Zu, who should be peacefully sleeping in her bed, and I stop in my study. I pour a glass of scotch, and as I’m drinking it, I notice the mail on my desk. I hate for it to pile up, so I sit down to look through it.
A box is on top. It’s small and wrapped in brown parcel paper. There is no return address.
Intrigued, I unwrap it, and open the top.
A folded note is inside.
Keep this.
Beneath it, there is a loaded syringe of heroin.
17
Chapter Sixteen
I shove it in my top desk drawer, trying to get it out of my sight. Just looking at the needle sends a deep craving pulsing through me. I don’t know why, and it scares the fuck out of me.
But I don’t have time to think on it.
Because Mila is screaming my name.
I scramble as fast I can from behind my desk, and she’s bursting into my office, her eyes wild.
“Zuzu’s gone, Pax. She’s gone!”
“What do you mean?”
“Someone took her!”
Shock slams into me, into my gut, and Mila has a piece of paper pressed into her hand.
“What is that?” I ask and I can’t feel my tongue. She thrusts it at me.
X marks the spot.
Below it, there’s a phone number.
Son of a bitch. Oh my God.
I can’t breathe, I can’t think. I just pick up my phone and call the number.
“Hello?”
Someone answers, and I can’t tell who because their voice is disguised. It’s gravelly and mechanical, and it sends chills down my spine.
“Where is my daughter?” I ask abruptly.
The person laughs and they sound like a devil. “She’s here. Look.”