Truth or Dare

Adrian Ralston

Where the fuck is she?

The words hit harder every time I thought them. Harder, because this wasn’t just anyone. It was Jo.

I didn’t wait for the stairs to fully lower. I just descended, tense, my coat unbuttoned, and my mind already racing ahead.

The cold Manhattan air slammed against my face, the kind that wakes you up and pisses you off all at once. The jet’s engines were still cooling, and the smell of aviation fuel was sharper with the wind. Unpleasant. Like how I felt.

I said it out loud this time, because silence felt like lying to myself. “Where the fuck is she?”

London had been a blur—meetings, dinners, and countless conversations. Every second away from Jo felt too long. I could still hear her laugh in the back of my mind — sexy, teasing.

How it reminded me to wind down when we were together.

To be present and enjoy even the little things.

Now I was back, and she still wasn’t answering any of my texts.

She said I love you. I looked down at my phone, and there it was, all lit up on my cell’s screen.

I replied not right away, but I did.

I love you too.

There it sat.

Unopened.

Unread.

I should’ve said it sooner. In person.

Texting 'love' after she did felt weak, like second place.

None of it made sense. Something was wrong. I felt it before I could explain it.

Then the knot came. That feeling when you know something isn’t quite right. Next, I'm cancelling key meetings, leaving unfinished business, so I could get back to find out what’s going on.

Steve waited by the Suburban, his phone gripped in his hand. His face held that professional calm that only meant bad news. I knew Steve well. His shoulders were squared and oozed tension.

“She’s still not answering,” he said as soon as I reached him.

There it was. Not the answer I wanted.

“What do you mean, not answering?”

He didn’t blink. “No calls. No messages. Her phone’s turned off, sir. The last ping was upstate—Buffalo.”

Buffalo.

My instincts flared.

Red. Fucking. Alert.

I knew it!

How many times did I ask her gently?

Tried to get her to trust me with the truth. Whatever the hell that meant. I was willing to listen.

“Of course it was,” I said to myself.

That city had become a secret between us.

Steve waited, silent. Smart man. I was fuming, and underneath, the worry was deep.

Fuck. Even my pulse was all wrong. Too fast. Too hot. Logic didn’t stand a chance in these conditions. My feelings were clouding my judgment.

What should have happened.

I’d get off the plane and have dinner with Jo at the Condo. I’d hold her hand and look into her eyes and tell her I love you.

But that wasn’t going to happen. Not now.

“She wouldn’t go there,” I said finally, even as the words left my mouth, I knew they weren’t true.

“Take me home,” I ordered.

Steve opened the Suburban’s door, and I climbed in.

The city moved by outside the tinted windows. I tried to piece together every moment before I left—the way she kissed me at the door, before she left, like everything was fine. Normal. But it wasn’t because I had no idea where she was?

It stung. Anger blended with something too close to fear. Yet, I could feel my gut turning into steel. Me forcing it.

I took a long breath. Tried to frame scenarios like I always did—calm, cool, collected. Rational.

London had been about strategy.

Jo was the one thing I couldn’t calculate.

I couldn't control this.

Vulnerability felt like weakness I’d spent years avoiding, and now it was crawling around inside me like a beacon I never thought I'd have to face.

And Buffalo.

Jesus Christ—Buffalo was the one place that could still make my blood boil and my pulse spike.

It wasn’t just where she came from.

It was Alex.

My brother.

The accident.

The fucking city that changed everything. None of it was good.

The drive from the airport felt longer than the flight.

When we arrived at the Condo, the quiet hit instantly.

I’d given the staff the evening off, thinking I’d be home with Jo. Sharing one of those nights where her laughter made warmth reach places I rarely acknowledged, where desire shut out the rest of the world.

But, Jo wasn't here.

The throw she loved was folded neatly on the couch.

The book she’d been reading was on the coffee table.

All mere remnants of her.

Why?

Steve followed me in but stayed by the door. “Sir?”

“Wait.”

He hesitated, then nodded and stepped into the hall.

I crossed to the bedroom.

The sheets were ice cold.

She usually stayed here the night before I came home from a business trip.

Warming up the place.

Warming me.

A memory came. Jo curled up on my side of the bed, her hair on my pillow, smiling when she heard me come in.

I felt that ache.

Longing.

Missing.

I turned toward the mirror.

For a second, I saw a man I barely recognized—creased suit, eyes darker than they should be, power with nowhere to go.

This was what losing control looked like.

I walked back to the living room. “Steve!"

He reappeared instantly.

“Sir?"

“Take me to her Condo. Now."

*****

The car slowed in front of her building, a sleek tower of glass owned by Ralston Enterprises. I should feel proud, but I felt empty. The unknown was tormenting me rather than exciting me, as it usually did.

The doorman stood when he saw me. “Mr. Ralston. Miss Wilde hasn’t—”

I cut in. “When was she last here?"

"Two days ago. She had a small suitcase." He hesitated. “She looked upset.”

I nodded as some acknowledgement, and then stormed through the lobby to the elevator.

The Condo was neat—a goodbye disguised as tidiness. A single orchid stood on the counter, still blooming.

Behind me, Steve’s voice came from the doorway. “Sir… should I call Marcus?”

I turned. “Not yet."

"Then what should I—"

"Find her.”

His brow furrowed. “Sir, if she doesn’t want to be found—”

I stepped closer. “Then we find the reason she doesn’t.”

He nodded, all business again. “Yes, sir.”

You run, and I’ll chase.

I never thought I’d think that.

But here we were.

Steve’s breathing seemed louder as I looked out at the skyline through her window. Manhattan in its glory sat right in front of me—cold, unbothered, endless.

Down there, anyone could disappear.

I took a long breath and straightened my tie.

Control. Order. Purpose.

“Where are you, Jo?" I said quietly. Then I turned toward the door.

“Steve," I called. “Get the car."

"Yes, sir. Where to?"

"Teterboro. We’re going to Buffalo.”

He nodded and disappeared down the corridor. I glanced back at the empty space behind me before I shut the door.

Vulnerability.

Now I knew what it looked like.

Correction. What it felt like.

Somewhere between loving her and losing her, I’d find the truth—no matter the cost.

Negative. Positive.

The burning question?

Which way would this go?

*****

Welcome back to The Dare Series.

This is Book 2 – Truth or Dare the continuation of Jo and Adrian's story.

If you haven’t read Book 1 – The Double Dare, I highly recommend starting there first — it’s where their fire began, and every secret in this book was born.

Thank you for diving back into this world of power, passion, and dangerous truths.

Buckle up — the dares only get darker from here.

💋 — E.G. Patrick

********

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