KISS OF HIS BETRAYAL
“Nope. He asked me to be patient.”
She nodded, but her eyes lingered on me longer than usual.
.
.
.
That evening, Damon called me into his study.
A file lay open on his desk — photos, notes, timestamps.
“Rob’s last known location was Bushwick.” he said.
“Used his card at a shady bar there. After that, nothing.”
“Shady bar?” I asked.
“Why would he go there?”
Damon shrugged. “Maybe he was meeting someone. You know, having some fun. That place is known for its wild parties. Precisely secret sex parties,” he said with that dramatic effect.