Split Love

CHAPTER 50

From the outside, the old factory looked abandoned and empty. The few halogen street lights that still worked were the only outside lighting. The sentries used the darkness as camouflage.

The strong light from the motorcycle's headlight illuminated the brick facade of the two-story building for a few seconds before Micah parked it on the side of the construction, not wanting to waste time with the garage in the back. His boots crunched on the boulders as he trudged up to the old wooden entrance door. In the small hall, the upper camera quickly detected his face and released the iron door that he pushed open. The cheerful voice of some drunk lads bothered him. He wanted to put everybody out, but he knew he had more to lose if someone discovered the real reason for his flutter.

- Roman, the Bolivian guy,

- I don't care. - He barked, cutting off one of the men who followed him as he quickly climbed the stairs to his office. The guy stopped halfway and knowing the underboss he shut up.

Furious, he crossed the corridor without paying attention to anyone or anything. He opened the door to his office and for a split second, he stopped watching Irina quickly get up from the leather couch in front of his desk. The warehouse was a place she avoided in every way and her being there on her own surprised him. But that was not a good fucking day.

- I'm not in the mood for fucking jokes. - He slammed the door and walked over to the liquor cabinet. Micah grabbed a glass and a bottle of whiskey.

- She is alright? Jamie is alright? - She sounded worried.

Micah poured a generous dose of the strong liquid and downed it in one gulp before turning to her. The empty glass still in his hand. Irina looked somewhat distressed, her normal big gray eyes seemed bigger, and she moved her hands frantically.

- Someone took her this morning. - He tried to hide his fear by saying that out loud, but he still saw her paling. She sat down again with her eyes on the floor.

- But she was fine last night.

- Yeah, she was. - He poured another dose. - And this morning she went for a run in that damned forest and didn't come home.

- She was at home then. - She stuttered, still not looking at him.

- Of course she was. Where else would she be?

- She she...

In front of the window, he observed the streets and the empty block in front that looked like a black cloth. He looked at everything and nothing at the same time while drinking his whiskey trying to numb that scary feeling of losing Jasmine. He took a deep breath and went to his table. He threw his body into the leather chair and with his elbows on the table, held his head. His fingers grabbed the dark strands of his hair.

- Go home, Irina. I need to think and come up with a plan to get her back. - He said under his breath. His heart filled with distress at not knowing what the fuck was happening to her.  He should have protected her. It was all his damn fault. Fucking stupid.

- So you know where she is? - From the corner of his eyes he saw her approaching the table.

- I can only think of the Irish.

- Who?

- They must be retaliating because of the motherfucker trapped in the basement.

- You have an Irishman trapped here? - Her stupid question made him look at her.

- Go home. - He grunted.

- I'm not leaving until Jamie is safe. Why do you think it was them? How would they know of her existence?