57 Bronson

Me: I need you to track down Nikki.

Rand: Got it

Me: And Rand?

Rand: Sir?

Me: If she is upset, and no longer wishes to come back home…. I will understand.

Rand: Yes Sir.

Blowing out a necessary deep breath, I place my phone down and stare at the crackling of the fireplace. The orange and red flames carry over like waves through a surfer’s board.

I take another pull of my bourbon and rub my temples when the damning headache returns with a powerful thud. Sitting up to place my glass down on the small coffee table, I groan when I feel the pain of sitting in this chair for over three hours resonate through my back.

It has been hours since Nikki has left, and Mr. Gilsh has made me aware. Hours of wondering if she has chosen to leave this place and go back to her original home with the criminals, she calls the Bandits. I haven’t slept. I cannot, not when I know she isn’t safe, safe here, in this building. Down the hall from me.