The Missing Link (Book 1: Outcast) [CURRENTLY EDITING]

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE: THOSE OF TROUBLED SOULS

For the last sixty seconds, I'd been staring down at Michigan Avenue. The streets were crowded and the clouds in the sky had given space to a warm, cool sunset. Everyone walking up and down the street carried hard looks on their faces, while the ominous outline of Millennium Park Plaza towered above them. It looked like they were all in a mood, or maybe the cold winds were starting to get uncomfortably chilly.

As a waft of wind went by, I leaned for option number two.

Hunter came up with a ticket the parking meter had just given him. "We're all set."

My thoughts dissolved, and I gave him a curious glance. "Are the guys there already?"

"Owen and Dom? I think so."

"What about Caiden?"

His eyebrows creased. "What about him?"

"Will he be there?"

"He didn't answer my texts, which means he'll either show up or he'll stay at some bar drinking his weight on rum. It's kind of his usual behavior—if you haven't noticed already."

I followed him all the way into the building, past the girl on the counter, and toward the elevators. My attention diverted to the neatly polished floors matching the wood panels on the walls, all lit under warm, yellow lights built into the ceiling. I wondered how Gideon's apartment would look, then. Perhaps he tended to lean to the exotic extravaganza like Teardrop Bar, or maybe I'd be surprised to find he lived in a comfortably boring—but still luxurious—apartment like a single businessman in Chicago.

Either way, the unsettling feeling in my stomach only kept on growing.

"I think he hates me," I admitted, earning a laugh from Hunter.

He pressed the button for the last floor, and the elevator gave a gentle pull. "He hates everyone."

"Last time I checked he didn't seem very happy about my presence around you."

"You're overthinking this."

"Lately it feels impossible not to do so," I countered.

With a light ding, the elevator came to a stop. We were greeted by a suited Gideon at the first door to the left, a stern look on his face.

"You're late."

"It's good to see you, too," said Hunter, pushing his sunglasses up and walking past him.

Voices carried out from inside, probably from the guys, but Gideon's strong stance stopped me before I could follow Hunter. His grip was firm, eyes narrowed and steady on mine. The sides of his mouth were quirked, like he expected me to understand an unspoken message he was trying to deliver.

When I said nothing, he asked, "Remember what we spoke about?"

"How could I ever forget?"

He drew his hand back, slowly. "Did you tell Hunter?"