Realistic or Modern Two Unlikely Hearts

[bubblefly]

Riley Jane Meyer

Riley woke with a pain booming through her head, a clear headache creeping its way towards a migraine; an ideal way to start the day. With everything that was coursing through her mind in the few minutes she had been awake, she didn't want to get up, she didn't want to be productive and she certainly didn't want to go to work. But she knew she couldn't just call in sick after what happened the night before. So instead of laying in bed all day, she got up. She paced herself to the bathroom, taking a long, hot shower, letting the stress flow down the drain as much as possible. And with such low energy and her distant thoughts, she didn't even wash her hair or body, she just stood there, eyes closed and memories burning their way through her heart.

It took her two hours in total to get ready, simply putting her hair in a bun and getting dressed into a casual white tee and jeans, throwing on some chunky black trainers. Before exiting her house, she grabbed her phone and listened to the voicemail left for her. Just listening to Mikhael's voice cast thunderous storms through her head, the guilt of everything bringing all the stress back up. She's never felt such sadness before, the sheer emotions ripping through her being. But she couldn't show that; there was no way she was going to allow herself to even hint towards being in love with the criminal she was investigating, that would ruin her career and her relationship. So she sucked it up, left her house, jumped in her hair and immediately headed for work.

Everyone was running around the station, getting into their uniform, stumbling around with paperwork and answering calls. It seemed like she wasn't the only one having a bad day, which seemed to calm Riley down slightly until of course, she heard the Chief. "Fuck.." She muttered until her breath, heading straight to the lockers to get her gear and change, but before she could even collect all her things, an officer walks up to her seemly annoyed, "Meyer, we tried to call into you last night? Where the fuck were you?" Riley had completely forgotten that she left her work phone at her house instead of bringing it with her to Mikhail's. "I crashed pretty hard last night, had a few too many," It was the first thing that popped into her head as she closed her locker and turned to face the officer "I know I shouldn't have drank when we're so far into this investigation, but I just thought it would be a quiet night for once." While she spoke, she headed to a changing stall and proceeded to get changed as the officer filled her in on everything that happened last night. Riley didn't even listen to what they were saying, she knew most of it anyway and she didn't want to think about it anymore, but with her situation, there was no luck of freedom at this point.


After a few hours of listening to people explaining what she 'missed' around her own case, she filled out countless papers on her undercover relationship with Mikhail and any details she had found out. Riley rarely wrote incriminating things about Mikhail and the tight net of friends he had anymore, she'd simply write any low crime activity or any specific things he said revolving around himself and his activities, but she didn't find out a lot from him personally, it was mainly from phone snooping and patrolling him undercover.

"Meyer, we have a lead." A voice called out to her, ushering her over to his radio. "Seems as though Mikhail Yenin's car was broken into this morning and a few guys saw it happen, his window was smashed in and his radio was removed. Officer Laden and Patt were on scene and they reported seeing the individual who did it. We've tried calling him and even knocking on his door, but no one answered. Do you think you could pop by and get into the apartment, he might know something about it and it doesn't like he wants to cooperate with us." Riley hesitantly agreed and was going to ask for more details, but saw the Chief looking her way, so she fled the station and immediately got into her car. Forgetting she had her uniform on, she made her way to Mikhail's, only realising as she got there. In a panic she took everything off, leaving her in her tee and work trousers, which were thankfully just plain black. She jumped out and headed up to his apartment without acknowledging his car, which now had tape cast around it with a few officers standing beside it, dusting it down and rummaging through the seats.
Once she had reached his door, she knocked a few times before becoming impatient. She instinctively opened the door, confused as to why it wasn't locked. "Mikhail?" She peered her head through the door, scanning the environment, "Mikhail, are you in here?" Dead silence.

With the feeling of being alone, Riley made her way in and shutting the door behind her. A huge scent of alcohol flew straight up her nose, Riley fanning her face almost immediately. "What the.." Her eyes looked over all the mess scattered over his hallway and living room. She felt somewhat disgusted by the sight, but it didn't take long until she noticed the shattered glass and blood on the floor. She rushed over to the table, observing everything and immediately pulled her phone out, calling Mikhail. "Pick up, pick up." She felt frantic, her hands beginning to shake and horrible thoughts rushing through her mind. What if someone followed him home last night? Would he have hurt himself? Did someone else hurt him?

As a million thoughts were racing through her mind, she heard his phone ring. It was only a few metres away from her. "Fucking hell, Mikhail!" She threw her phone onto the couch, shoving her face into her hands wanting to let out a scream. Then she quickly remembered she was a police officer and she had the power to track him through professional means. She picked her phone back up and immediately dialled the chief, the dread of his questions about last night swarming her. "Chief? Hi, it's Meyers. I'm at Mikhail's apartment and it looks like someone may have come over last night or this morning and hurt him. There's blood and glass and an unusual mess. I think someone may have found him.".

 

[Prizzy Kriyze]

Mikhail "Mike" Yenin

So what the hell now? Mike carefully started up the car and rolled out of the alleyway as soon as the squad cars had passed. He was wanted, chased and probably described as armed and dangerous. The destination was already set. Outskirts of town, old discontinued car workshop where a local MC gang allowed Sin of Eden to keep their operations while they used it as a hangout. But once he was there, he couldn't do much more than lie low. If he went home there would probably be police there. If he went to Riley's he'd have to explain why he's on the run, and that wasn't exactly an option. Not like they were currently on the best of terms anyway. He hadn't really done anything wrong, but if the cops were going to arrest him for owning a gun without a license he already knew that there'd be more than one cop in this city that would push up the paperwork until he starved to death in a cell. He couldn't afford being taken in. It would be better to move away, and he already would have if not for her. The only reason he decided to change to begin with.

Still, going to the hideout inevitably meant that he'd be roped into something. No, the problem here wasn't his well-being. It was what loops he'd have to jump through to get back to her. If he EVER showed back to his apartment again he'd have the law to deal with. This was, well, exactly the worst possible scenario. No solutions.

He gritted his teeth.

No legal solutions.

______________________________

It wasn't like the movies. The weather was clear and bright as he rolled onto the sandy outskirts and up before a chain-link fence. A length of chain with a padlock held the rusted gate together, and as he came to a stop he leaned his elbow on the horn. After a second or two he let up, and it didn't take much longer before he saw two old beetles and a hot rod kicking up sand as they rounded the large car workshop building. Guess they picked up the chop shop again.

Mike got out of the car and leaned against the hood to light a cigarette. The cars skidded to a stop and everything waist-down was covered in a nigh-impenetrable cloud of dust. In vain, he tried to wipe some of the filth off his forehead but only managed to smear it. Out from one of the beetles stepped a middle-aged man, white beard stained with oil and clad in a leather jacket proudly proclaiming 'Vipers' in bold red lettering. The grip of a revolver protruded from a holster just under his armpit. He stopped at the other side of the fence and Mike got up to approach him. With a voice coarse in that whiskey and cigarette ways you could only attain with half a lifetime of use behind you he spoke.

"Now who the hell're you, kid?"

"I could ask you the same. Mikhail Cross, here to look for Gabe."

"Can't say I ever heard of any 'Mi-kyle Cross' being around here before. Anyone else here heard that name?" The men that had slowly piled out of the cars laughed and a few 'no's and 'never's were heard, but the sly smile across the older man's face told Mike all he needed to know.

"Alright, I see how it is. This here," he motioned over his shoulder at the car he'd stolen, "is a 2015 Mercedes-benz C-class. Pretty hot for the next couple weeks, but it runs like it's new. It's yours, key's in the ignition. Let me through."

The laughing stopped and the older man looked over the car. After a few moments he nodded, and one of the men walked up and unlocked the fence. As he passed the group the older man put his hand on Mike's shoulder. "Gabriel ain't here, but Dannika is."

_____________________________________________

A free-hanging light bulb swung lightly through the smokey basement. Someone was always to be stationed here, but usually Gabe and a few of the boys were here either getting high or escaping their normal lives. Only having Dannika around was not the norm. The door slammed behind him, but the tapping of a razor blade didn't stop. Flickering in and out, the light landed on the impossibly thin and spindly woman with long, raven black hair hanging in perfect locks on the table where she was eagerly hunched over, tapping away at a mirror. "Eating all the produce, huh. Figure at least a couple of the 'folks back home' would have a lot to say about that." Mika started for the table. With a loud snort Dannika threw her head back and rubbed the bridge of her nose before meeting his gaze.

"You vould too if you knew how good zis shit was." She spoke with a thick Russian accent and a poisonously intimate tone, one that had started making Mike sick. She pushed the mirror with its accompanying razor, rolled up bills and white powdery lines towards him. At first he hesitated, but when she nodded towards it with a satisfied look on her face he couldn't resist. Just a little, enough to coat one finger, he put into his mouth. And it was good shit. That was always the problem with this, wasn't it.

"You must be back to apologize, Mikhail. Vhen you valk in hier as if you own ze place." He sat down and started composing a line with the scattered dust. "Fuck that. I'm here for Gabe. Where is he-" Dannika slammed her hands into the table, sending the mirror rattling and the dope scattering over it once more. "You valked out and left us all hier!" Any earlier sign of hospitality was gone, but Mike had expected it. Instead of giving in to her he simply continued to scrape the dust together again. "Raz is doing time and Eightball is buried in an unmarked grave somevhere in ze dunes, and you zink you can valk in hier as if you vere never gone. And vat, for a girl?" Mike grabbed a bill, pressed one of his nostrils shut and inhaled.

Fuck, that's good.

"Did you never zink of me, Mika? Of vhat zey do to someone like me vhen nobody's around to keep ze order? I never complained vhen you vere vith ze tramps, Mika, I alvays rolled you over on your side so you vouldn't choke, vhy did you abandon me? Vhat did I do wrong? Vhy the fuck? Pizdobol!" There were so many things he wanted to say back to her in that moment. He wanted to tell her to fuck off, he wanted to reach over the table and slap her teeth out, but it wasn't helpful to his situation. No, he'd have to play by the rules if he was to get any sympathy from these people. He leaned forward and grabbed her hands, still on the table and knuckles whitened. He searched for her eyes and it didn't take long for them to meet his. "I know you missed me, a'ight? I didn't forget about you. I'm here now," he squeezed her hand, "that's all that matters. I'm back. But I need your help, Dannika." Her eyes were filled with disbelief, but he knew she wanted so badly to believe. The things she'd done to other people over the smallest of things... He had no remorse in manipulating her any way he wanted. "Vhat, so you can take vhat you need and zen disappear again, you parasite-" Her words were harsh, but she didn't retract her hands. Mike interjected "Sh-sh-sh-sh, no. Listen, you're the only people who've had my back through everything. The ODs, the chases, remember when I got jumped on Fulton? And I've always had your back. It's not been that long, please, just help me out here."

Behind the curtains of black hair Mike could see that Mascara was running slightly. Her eyes flickered back and forth between their hands and his unerring gaze. "... you look like shit, Mika." The tension disappeared, Mike slowly let go of her hands and leaned back in his chair. "Yeah, that's part of what I need your help with."

 

[bubblefly]

Riley Jane Meyer


"Go home. If he comes back, we'll let you know. But you being here in uniform isn't helping anyone."

The investigation behind the scene in Mikhail's apartment was going well, but Riley had refused to leave for so long. She'd been there for almost the entire day, sitting around, watching everyone collect evidence and map out the scene. Her head was spinning and it was obvious to everyone that she couldn't process this. There wasn't any way she could hold back all the emotions she didn't want to show anymore. She was thinking Mikhail got hurt and there was something in her brain telling her it was her fault. If she hadn't have gone home, she'd be here with him. If she had come to check on him before work, she could've stopped whatever happened. "Meyers? Meyers? Riley!" A deep voice came blasting from her side, pulling her out of her thoughts. "You can go home now, we'll let you know if he comes back." The officer repeated, standing right in front of her, blocking the view of the blood. Riley immediately tilted her head so she could see past him "It's okay, I just think I should-" She was cut off immediately as she was pulled from her feet, "If anyone else realizes you're broken up about this, they'll start figuring it out." Riley could feel her face turn red and pain beginning to emerge in her chest. With a large lump in her throat, she spoke: "Figure what out?"

"You know exactly what I mean."

As Riley walked down to her car, tears began to well up in her eyes; one of her coworkers had figured out she had feelings for him. And if he noticed, she was sure others had too. When she got to her car, she slammed her head onto the steering wheel a few times out of pure anger, screaming into her hands and beginning to cry. The realisation that she had to stay away from this as much as she could to hide her true feelings hit her hard. There was no other way to stay involved and not let her feelings for him shine through. Although he wasn't the only one that figured it out, he was the only one she knew about, and that's how she wanted it to stay. She turned her engine on and drove home slowly, wiping her tears away, trying to escape the reality of Mikhail being gone.

When she reached her house, she didn't even hesitate to drive past, continuing to drive, her head fading into the road and full focus being placed on her journey. Raindrops fell on the windshield, the mellow echo bouncing around in the car, creating a calm rhythm. The sky got dim as countless clouds blocked all shining light from Riley's eyes, her mood worsening with the weather. Cars stacked up and the rain became heavier, the sounds of horns and aggressive drives surrounding the road. Every car had the engine's stopped and Riley did the same, sitting and watching the rain battered against her windshield, the sound getting louder and louder, chaos spewing into the sky. The gridlock was a perfect reconstruction of how Riley's thoughts were; stuck in place. She couldn't get the thought of Mikhail being in trouble escape her, she felt forced to think about it, as if her mind was sentenced to life.

 

[Prizzy Kriyze]

Mikhail "Mike" Yenin

A pair of ill-fitting jeans was all that Dannika had managed to scramble together from the hangout itself, and while she was out taking care of everything else he'd asked her to do he took the opportunity to raid the community freezer. It was only ever filled with stolen booze anyway, so in its dim light he stood chugging down a bottle of beer. The frigid breeze that escaped it felt good against the sore cuts on his body, now wrapped in bandages. The tank top and sweatpants combo was thrown in the garbage, it simply wasn't worth the bother to try to wash that out.

Bottle in hand Mike sat down behind the desk and kicked up his feet. His eyes immediately went to the two wrapped white blocks that Dannika had been tearing into. Probably almost two kilos each. Now he knew that there was hardly a lack of product coming in from the south, but how much were they trying to move at once here? Despite their reputation, Sin of Eden wasn't a particularly large group. Maybe thirty to forty members at a time, ten of them integral to the group and then their honorary lackeys who'd never become much more than meat shields and street dealers. Either something had changed or they had finally struck a deal with some other gang, but Mika couldn't think of one that would be rich enough to buy that much at once nor one that didn't already have their own sources.

The advantage of Sin of Eden was something entirely different. Their roots. People respected old organizations, they had endured the test of time. No group in the area had seniority on them. The Vipers and the Rich Street Relegates had their backs with undying faith, being small but old organizations themselves. Small, though not nearly as small as the SoE branch. That probably inflated their numbers in the police reports. Estimated maybe... three, four hundred members? Every now and again they'd have some specialist right from Guadalajara, they usually managed to scrounge whatever information the cops had on them. Maybe even scrub some of their records when someone had been reckless.

He lit a cigarette. He was going to need money, but to do that without causing trouble he'd need to help out. Again. Loud bangs were heard from upstairs as a rainstorm started pelting the aged sheet metal roof.

_____________________________________________________

About twenty minutes passed before there was a creak from upstairs. The hangout was in the basement of a metal shack just outside the workshop, and with its age and rust there was no way to enter with alerting everyone downstairs. Slow steps merged with fast ones as a group of people made their way down, three or four? The door busted open to the sound of laughing and two recruits with hair matted from the rain pushed a third one inside, with the imposing figure of Fletcher coming in behind them. As soon as they laid eyes on Mike they froze up and the one in the back slowly reached for his gun, only to immediately be stopped by Fletcher's hand. "Didn't think we'd ever be seeing you again here, Mike. Here to stay?" The recruits seemed to be eased by this and stood to each side as Fletcher walked across the room.

Mike stood up from his chair and rounded the table to greet him. "I'm back, we'll see how long. Things might be looking up back home." Fletcher got a sly smile and they joined in a handshake. "Aaah, MeHico! I thought you like the entrepreneurial enterprise we kept here." Mike shaked his head. "Not enough to stay in this political climate. What's your business here?" Fletcher took a step back but kept the smile. "Alright, don't tell me. We're just coming through, the snitch that got Raz and have been imposing on our territory have apparently been involved with Rich Street so they decided to sell him out. Trent Walker or something, found his apartment. Grabbing firepower and heading over, you should come."

He hesitated for a moment, but then the recruits walked up to the freezer and pushed it aside to reveal a stash of automatic rifles and shotguns. There were even a couple of polished DMRs, though they made no attempt to grab those. What kind of firefights were they expecting to get into? Rather, why have all that firepower in the first place? The local gangs didn't take killing lightly, and in a wholesome turn of events started attempting to de-weaponize the area around 5 years prior. No honor among thieves. "Yeah, sure. I kind of need a shirt, a holster, and a few more bullets first though." Fletcher clapped his hands together. "Perfect, we'll ride just like we used to!"

Mike nodded, but let his gaze rest on one of the recruits. He was about his height, same hair, same eyes. He knew that they'd been looking into some new recruits just before he left, but he wasn't expecting this. See, no one in Sin of Eden had dental records, none of them had prints scanned, none of them had anything to tie to their body. A safety measure, you might call it. If someone showed up that had roughly your outline, that meant they were to be a body double. That meant someone must have put a target on his back. He looked back to Fletcher who'd already noticed what he'd seen. He just nodded.

_______________________________________

"A car, some pocket change, a burner phone, a change of clothes and a fake passport?" Fletcher repeated back to him as they sped down the highway back to town. Rain peppered the car like a machine gun and the wipers kept their steady pace at beating them away. "Given that both Raz and Eightball is gone with the rest of the counterfeiters in town, at least any of those who'd stick their necks out for us, you'll probably have to wait for one of them Guada hardasses to show up. Or sell your soul to the Changs." Mike leaned against the window and the recruits in the back seemed to know to keep their mouths shut. "Mm, that's not really an option." Fletcher chuckled "Damn right it's not an option."

They crossed the city limits and crossed the overpass overlooking the typical rush hour traffic jam. His thoughts wandered back to Riley. Where was she now? At home, breathing through the hangover? Waiting for him to call? She might not have any idea that he's gone yet. Maybe she'd just think he ghosted her. The thought was like a boulder in his gut, but he had no time to ponder it over. "When's the next visit scheduled, anyway?" He asked. "Two weeks, I think. Ross is sweating hardcore, saying that they're going to be disappointed with the results." Mike furrowed his eyebrows. Ross wasn't a 'bitch', as some would call it. He wouldn't give a fuck if there wasn't something serious going on. It seemed a lot of things had changed since he was last around. "I think he's pretty sure they're going to replace him." That meant kill. Sin of Eden wasn't know as ruthless, but failure to live up to expectations meant execution. They had a certain reputation and class to keep. Everyone knew.

_________________________________

Ross joined around the same time as Mike. El Paso, 2006, they were both thirteen. It's how it usually went, kids with broken homes were plentiful in Guaymas and so they were indoctrinated young and driven up to El Paso to work. Since Mike's mom died and his father was back in Russia again, it didn't really matter much anymore. Ross parents were fully-fledged addicts, and honestly being recruited like that was probably the best future he could've ever hoped for. But being recruited young didn't make you a "recruit", no. Being a recruit was more or less a mock title in SoE, it was those disposable few that the real members brought in just to boost their numbers. Very few ever made it further, Dannika was the only one in the branch. She was a prostitute and a stripper, but after having her around for a while after Wesley died it turned she had a knack for making connections and keeping them quiet, which had proven to be quite the feat in the area.

No, being recruited as a kid meant you were an apprentice to some older member. Wesley was Ross's senior, a man called Leto was Mike's senior. They both went way back, and so Ross and Mike had to work together quite a lot. They even took the initiation together. If it hadn't been for a major fuck up on Mike's part when they were still in Austin they might've been declared Faithfuls, underwent the blood-brother oath and been in charge of the Dallas branch. Would've made enough cash to retire to Galapagos and live out their lives with prostitutes and dope two years back then. Ross never really forgave him for that, but they were still sent together to establish this branch. It went really well too, until guilt caught up to Mikhail and sent him in a downwards spiral. Almost enough to gain Ross's sympathy, but never quite.

____________________________________________________

"Here we are, guns close boys." They'd rolled up to an abandoned parking lot in the Ghetto, surrounded by a plank fence. Mike got out and kept behind the group as they started jogging towards the edge of the lot. "Alright, quiet." Fletcher hissed, before jumping up and heaving himself over the fence. The recruits followed closely behind, but Mike wasn't so sure. It seemed impromptu, careless. Still, he didn't have a better idea. Once the last one had disappeared out of sight he followed. On the other side was an alleyway with a gray concrete building on the other side. Fletcher had already picked the padlock from the door and was leading the silent charge inside. Mike stopped to check the clip in his pistol before continuing, but felt an eerie sensation in the back of his head. Looking down the alleyway he could see the taillight of some parked car, but something drove him to have a closer look.

He took a few steps sideways and noticed the worst case possible. LAPD.

"Fuck."

 

[bubblefly]

Riley Jane Meyer


Riley's car was now parked outside of a diner some way into the city. She didn't know where she was or what time it was, she just wanted to be alone; but in such a huge city, she was no such thing as alone anymore. Her uniform lay on the passenger seat beside her, her radio turned off and phone on silent. Of all things to happen in this moment, she didn't want to face the Chief or being at work at all. The rain was pelting against the roof of her car, the sky only getting darker. Her eyes were glued to the wall outside, slightly stained paint covering the bricks, a faint red light emitting onto it from the diner's sign. As soon as she saw the red light, Mikhail's blood flashed in front of her, the imaginary image of his dead body flashing before her eyes. Her lids slid shut, tears forming and sliding down her face. Her hands kept still, letting everything flow out, a few quiet whimpers escaping her lips.

KNOCK. KNOCK. "Are you okay?"

Riley's eyes shot open and her hands flung up to her face, wiping every ounce of water off her cheeks, before she looked to the left to see a young man bent down and looking through her window. His hair was soaked and his clothes just the same. He was holding a broken umbrella and didn't even have a coat on. "Do you want to come inside?" He asked, gesturing to the diner. Without saying anything, Riley grabbed her police jacket, put it on and got out the car, following the young man into the diner. They took a seat together in a booth by the window, holding the menus in their hands. "I'm just having a bad day." Riley blurted out, not making eye contact with the stranger. Although she wanted to be alone, it was nice for someone to simply ask, she couldn't exactly talk to anyone else about her feelings. "Working for the police seems stressful. How long have you been working for them?" With questions flowing and a distraction working, Riley fell into a conversation about her and his work, drinking coffee and enjoying a small salad. For the most part, Mikhail didn't even cross her mind and was bittersweet for her to forget everything. "If you don't mind me asking, why were you crying in your car?" He asked, leaning his arms on the table, a slight frown propping up on his face. Riley didn't want to answer, she couldn't dare tell anyone, but she could be vague about it. And all she wanted to do now was spill.

With a deep breath and a large gulp of coffee, Riley began to speak, "I have two huge things in my life right now and they are both equally important to me, but they clash, hard. One has been my dream since I was 8 and the other was an amazing, uhm, circumstantial relationship, I guess, and it feels like magic, it really does. But I'm a liar. I've betrayed some of the most important people in my life because I can't stand to mix my worlds together and have my fears of coming clean. And it's not as if I can just pick one and move on, if I do come clean with either of them, I am ruined. Completely and utterly ruined. I could love my job, my house, my friends.. The person I love," She stared off into the distance, trying to think of what to say next, "I can't lose either of them. Never. I'd be crushed.. and so would he."

Her head swung down and fell into her hands, another headache appearing once she closed her mouth. The reality of this whole messed up situation really hit her and she couldn't bare it. "I see.. that sounds complicated. Don't they say 'the truth will set you free'." Riley's head slowly raised and stared this stranger in the eyes. In that very moment, she realised she wasn't being who she believed she was. She thought she was brave, honest, trustworthy. But she wasn't at all; she practically had two lives and she didn't know if she wanted to keep living them both anymore. "Thank you." With that, she got up and left, clutching her jacket to her and getting into her car. She immadiately turned her radio and phone back on, starting her car and heading back to the station.

Only twenty minutes into the drive, a call comes through her phone. She picks it up and puts it on speaker, setting it down on her uniform. "Hello?" She asked, keeping her eyes on the road. "Meyers?! We've been trying to get through to you for almost half an hour! Where are you?!" The booming voice was one of her coworkers, it was clear he was pissed and she knew she was wrong to turn off the electronics, but she just wanted to shut everyone out for a short while. "My phone has been dead. What's happened?" With her training and recent practise, her lie sounds completely truthful and sincere. "There's been a lead in your case. We've had a noise complaint in an apartment building near some recent activity with the group you're investigating. They caller said she thought they had weapons. So we're going to check it out, I can send you the address so you can arrive too." Riley's heart sank slightly, thinking of Mikhail again and her first thought was finding out what happened. "Send it to me."

She hung up the phone, pulled over and waiting for the address, speeding off once it got sent through.