I slam my hand on the desk and stand. Time to do something more productive with my day and get my fucking money back, since I’m having no joy in the other department…
I exit my office, stalking across the courtyard where Galina is hanging out laundry. She turns and watches me, a crease forming between her brows. This is the first time she’s seeing me in three days.
I’ve been locked away in my office tracking Joy’s GPS. She’s in Venice Beach. Hasn’t really moved around much since.
I could drive to her, bring her back here and lock her to my bed—it won’t take me fucking long to get her screaming my name again.
But my gut clenches every time I consider jumping in my car. My own body is telling meno.
And I’ve never properly understood that word until now.
My chest pulls in foreign places. Loving someone means letting the person go if that’s what brings them happiness. And I’m slowly starting to accept that.
“Joy?” says Galina, clutching the laundry basket to her chest. Her features are pulled back in fright. She takes a step back under the line.
I’m used to people doing that, and it normally satisfies me.
“Where is…?”
“Alive.” I finish the sentence for her.
Galina exhales with relief, taking a step closer. “She got out?”
I give Galina a curt nod.
The terror disappears from her face, replaced by confusion. “You look sad, Mr. Valerian.”
“Joy is safe. There’s no need to worry.”
“You… different around her, Mr. Valerian. Brings a good side out of you.”
I fold my arms across my chest. Interesting observation to make.
“Joy has much thinking to do,” continues Galina. “She decides if you are good enough for her.”
She already made her bed with that one. I’m not good enough for her. She knows that and so do I.
“See you later, Galina,” I say, walking past her to head indoors.
That’s when my phone starts ringing. All the blood rushes to my head at the thought of this being Joy.
But I see Niko’s name on the screen instead.
“What is it?”
“I finally found Igor’s location,” says Niko, “he’s at the top of the San Bernardino mountains.”
That’s what he’s been doing for the past three days—taking a fucking hike instead of getting himself to my place so we can talk.
I clench my jaw. “Is he alive?”
“According to the built-in heart rate monitor on his watch, he is.”
I sigh with relief down the phone. “Send me his location and meet me here. We’ll go together.”
A half hour later, we’re making progress up the mountains. Fresh air slaps me in the face when I wind down the window. I haven’t felt that in days.
Keeping my hand fixated on the steering wheel, I turn to Niko, “The mountains is the last place I expected Igor to go.”