(Jason)
(Two days later)
I paced around my apartment, checking my phone every few minutes. Rick should have called by now. He was supposed to update me about Alina yesterday, but nothing. Radio silence.
The guy was an i***t, but he was reliable. Always called when he said he would. This wasn't like him.
I tried his number again. Straight to voicemail.
"f**k," I muttered, throwing my phone on the couch.
Maybe he got spooked. Maybe Damian's people caught him. Or maybe he just took my money and ran. Wouldn't be the first time someone screwed me over.
I grabbed a beer from the fridge and was about to open it when someone knocked on my door. Hard knocks.
I looked through the peephole. Two cops stood outside. A man and a woman, both in plain clothes. Detectives.
My stomach dropped.
I
