The Unexpected Lover

Chapter 12: Romeo's Resolve

I stumbled through the dimly lit alley, my body a raw symphony of bruises, cuts, and exhaustion. Each step burned, but I forced myself to keep moving. The pain was a constant reminder of my promise, to find Angel and make Anthony pay for everything.Leaning against a graffiti-covered wall, I caught my breath, scanning my surroundings. The city loomed silent and foreboding, its alleys thick with secrets I needed to uncover.

I glanced down at the phone I'd taken from Paulie, thumbing through recent messages despite the risk. I had no other choice."Where are you?" read the latest text.The number was unlisted, but the timestamp showed it was recent. Whoever sent it was close, and if they were connected to Paulie, they were connected to Anthony. 

 "Perfect," I muttered, slipping the phone into my pocket.I continued down the street, fading into the night's shadows. 

My thoughts drifted to Angel, lying somewhere in a hospital bed, if she'd even made it that far. The thought of her suffering twisted in my gut. She had been my light in the darkness, my reason for fighting. Until I could see her, until I knew she was safe, I wouldn't rest.The flickering neon lights of a rundown diner caught my eye, and I slipped inside, choosing a booth in the back. The place was nearly empty, the quiet hum of a single waitress the only movement around me. She glanced over, took in my battered face, and set down a glass of water without a word.

 "Rough night?" she asked, her voice hoarse but gentle. 

 "You could say that," I replied, taking a sip of the cold water. 

The chill shocked my swollen lip, but I didn't mind. Sympathy wasn't what I was after, just a moment to clear my mind.As the waitress moved away, I pulled out the phone again and scrolled through Paulie's contacts. Most of the names were familiar, Anthony's usual lackeys, but one caught my eye: Liam G.

 I didn't know him directly, but I'd heard enough to know Liam was an information broker, a middleman who sold secrets to the highest bidder.Just one chance, I thought, steadying my breath as I pressed the call button. 

 The phone rang a few times before a sharp, guarded voice answered. "Yeah? Who's this?" 

 I paused, adjusting my tone to sound casual. "I need some information. Anthony wants details on a... hospital situation." 

 There was a beat of silence. "Anthony sent you?" he asked, skeptical. "I don't recognize the number." 

 I forced a short laugh. "Paulie had a rough night. I'm covering for him." 

 The man hesitated, then let out a low chuckle. "Figures. Anthonys always got someone new running errands. Alright. Info isn't free, though."

 "Send me an address," I replied, keeping my voice even. "I'll bring cash." 

 There was a pause, followed by a soft chuckle. "Alright, tough guy. I'll text you the location." 

 I hung up, my chest tight. This was a gamble; if Liam didn't recognize me, things could turn bad fast. But it was the only lead I had.A minute later, my phone buzzed with an address. I committed it to memory, erased the message, and slid out of the booth, tossing a few bills on the table as I left. The clock was ticking. The sooner I met with Liam, the closer I'd be to finding Angel, and staying one step ahead of Anthony's men. 

 The address led me to a deserted warehouse near the edge of town, an area of abandoned buildings and empty streets. I approached the back entrance, tension coiling tight in my muscles as I knocked twice on the metal door. It swung open, revealing a wiry man with slicked-back hair who looked me over, eyes narrowed. 

 "You're the guy?" he asked, sizing me up. 

 "That's right," I replied, my voice cold. "You Liam?" 

 Liam's gaze flickered with recognition, not of me, but of the way I held myself, like someone used to trouble. "That depends on who's asking," he said, crossing his arms. "What's Anthony need?" 

 My hands clenched. "I need to know where Angel is. She's under a fake name, likely in a hospital. It's urgent." 

 Liam cocked his head, a smirk twisting his face. "Urgent, huh? Didn't think I'd be dealing with rescue missions. Info like that... isn't cheap." 

 I reached into my pocket, pulling out Paulie's wallet and tossing a handful of crumpled bills onto the table. It wasn't much, but it was everything I had. 

"This is all I've got. Take it or leave it." 

 Liam eyed the money, then snorted, stuffing it into his pocket. 

"Fine. I'll tell you what I know. Word is, she's holed up in St. Vincent's. Came in quiet, under a fake name. Someone's pulling strings to keep her hidden. Interesting, right?" 

 My heart pounded. Angel was alive. For now."Who's protecting her?" I asked, my voice tense.

 "Not so fast." Liam's smirk widened. "I don't know who. That'll cost extra, if I even find out." 

 I nodded, pushing down my frustration. At least I had a direction now. I turned to leave, but Liam's voice stopped me.

 "Hey," he called, a mocking tone creeping in. "I hear people calling you 'Romeo the Ghost' around here. You know why?" 

 I glanced back, my expression hardening. 

 "They think you're already dead," he laughed, but I didn't flinch. 

 Without another word, I slipped into the night, my mind racing with the new information. I had a lead, but I needed to stay sharp. Anthony's men would be on guard, and every move counted.

The streets felt alive with danger as I made my way back toward the more populated areas of the city. Each shadow could harbor someone ready to pounce, and every sound felt magnified, my own heartbeat thundering in my ears. The city, with its flickering lights and darkened corners, was a reflection of my own turmoil.

The thoughts of Angel consumed me. What condition was she in? Was she scared? Was she even aware that I was out there, fighting for her? The image of her fragile form lying in a hospital bed haunted my mind, each moment spent away from her felt like an eternity.

I ducked into a small convenience store, the bell above the door jingling softly as I stepped inside. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting an unnatural glow on the aisles filled with snacks and drinks. I grabbed a bottle of water, desperately trying to quench the thirst that came from both physical exertion and emotional strain.

The cashier, a weary-looking man with a scruffy beard, glanced at me and then quickly returned his gaze to the magazine he was flipping through. I didn't care. I was too lost in my thoughts to worry about whether I looked like a thug or just a guy down on his luck.

I paid for the water and stepped back out into the night. The air was cooler here, a welcome relief against my bruised skin. But the coolness did nothing to calm the storm brewing inside me.

 I had to find Angel before it was too late.