by Kim Karr
Motherfucker.
“Freeze!” someone shouted.
“Hands up, now!” someone else yelled.
My eyes darted to the door. Agent Blanchet was standing in the doorway with a swarm of agents surrounding her.
No effing way.
She walked over to me. “I want you out of here.”
I stared at her.
“Now, McPherson. Don’t make me take you in and then process paperwork to get you out, because that will really piss me off.”
Tommy never made it to his gun, but his laughter made my ears ring. He was off the floor in cuffs in two seconds flat. Surrounded by five agents, there was nothing I could do to get to him.
“Now,” Agent Blanchet repeated and started shoving me out of the room.
I wanted to deck her but knew that would get me nowhere. With slow strides, I headed for the door.
“Hey!” Tommy hissed.
I turned around.
“Don’t think that girl of yours is any safer with me behind bars. If you were a good boy and followed the rules, there wouldn’t be an issue. Would there? So for her sake, you will stay away from her now because you know I have eyes, and hands, and a few hundred dicks, everywhere.”
“You motherfucking piece of shit,” I growled and lunged for him.
“Get him out of here.” Blanchet’s voice was loud as she pointed toward Tommy.
Hands were holding me back and a weird rush of fear washed through me as I watched Tommy being dragged out of the room.
It was like time stood still and I couldn’t move.
I had no idea how much time passed or when whoever was holding onto me had released their grip but when I blinked, I realized the room was quiet. I looked around.
Agent Blanchet was the only one in the room and she was staring at the doorway. “You can come in,” she said.
As if everything were happening in slow motion, I glanced toward the direction of her voice.
In the doorway was Declan. “Sorry, man, I had to follow you. I wasn’t letting you go it alone.” He pointed to Blanchet. “Turns out, she’d been following us and she nabbed me in the lobby before I could make it to you. She forced me to tell her what room you were in.”
Fuck, I knew she’d been on me. I should have been even more careful.
“Good thing he fessed up quickly.” Her voice was like cold steel.
My eyes darted to hers, and they were swimming with that same cold steel.
“Listen, McPherson, you’re walking a very thin line. My patience is wearing down.”
I scrubbed my hand down my face. “What the fuck more do you want from me?”
She glared at me like I should fucking know.
And I did know. I just hoped to fuck she didn’t know. Know what I’d done—that I’d committed a felony.
Finally, she spoke. “You should have called me when you found out where Tommy was. I don’t want to have to put a tail on you every fucking time I suspect you know more than you’re telling me.”
I stared at her blankly because thank God, she didn’t know that I’d relocated the drugs.
“Next time you pull something like this, I’m going to haul your ass in.” She pointed to herself. “I’m the law, not you. Do you understand me?”
I nodded but tuned everything else out.
This whole thing had just gotten so much worse.
Even behind bars, Tommy wasn’t going to leave Elle alone. As if I hadn’t already known it, he’d told me so himself. And now there was nothing I could do about it.
Elle and I had just forged some kind of commitment and I was going to be forced to break it.
What had happened tonight?
So much.
Way too much.
It was hard to believe that just hours ago I’d crossed the line an attorney should never cross. I’d tampered with evidence. In truth, I’d committed a felony by relocating a shitload of cocaine that had since been confiscated, and people in connection to it arrested.
Not just people.
My enemies. My foes.
Patrick.
His crew.
Now Tommy.
And I had put them there.
I should be happy.
I wasn’t.
I also should be worried about what would happen to me.
I wasn’t.
The only thing on my mind right now was, what am I going to do to make sure Elle stays safe?
Because I was screwed.
Although a lot of the Blue Hill Gang members had been arrested, not all of them had been locked up. There were too many of them. And besides, some would be out on bail within hours. I also knew Tommy was into something else, something drug related, and those connections would go beyond jail. I was certain he would reach out to them as soon as he could.
The fact was—I couldn’t keep Elle safe.
Not always.
Something could happen to her if I stayed with her.
Maybe something bad.
Chills ran through me.
Something like what Tommy had done before to Kayla, a girl I was casually seeing, the girl I made the mistake of bringing back to Boston one weekend, or like what he had done recently to Elle’s employee and friend, Peyton. Although I had no proof, I was certain Tommy had caught a glimpse of Peyton and me together on the street and then later attacked her, sending her to the hospital with an E carved in her stomach.
An E I had wrongly believed was meant to remind me of his dead sister, Emily. Emily, the girl I’d made the mistake of fucking when I was fifteen, which subsequently led to a teen pregnancy and ultimately to her suicide. That event had not only changed my life, but my father’s and grandfather’s lives as well.
Back then, Emily’s father had been the head of the Dorchester Heights Gang, a smaller Irish Mob, and he wanted to be top dog, but my paternal grandfather had held that position in the Blue Hill Gang. The situation I inadvertently created gave Emily’s father the ammunition he needed to make his move and ascend his rank.
Patrick Flannigan was ruthless.
The rule on the street was “A life for a life,” and he demanded obedience.
Regardless of the circumstances, as a consequence of my actions, my father had been providing his legal services to Patrick for the past twelve years. In exchange for my life my father traded his life in service for Emily’s death.
A life for a life.
But that wasn’t enough for Patrick. He wanted more. The details behind my grandfather’s dissent from power were sketchy, but eventually my grandfather handed over his leadership, his gang, to Patrick.
This went against code. This wasn’t a life for a life. But the situation was grave and my family did what they needed to do to protect me.
Patrick didn’t follow the rules, and neither did his son.
Where did this leave me now?
Right where I knew it always would. Having to do what I didn’t want to do—listen to Tommy’s threat and disassociate myself from Elle. It was absolutely the best solution.
“Hey, man, you okay?”
I looked at Declan. Tried to focus. But couldn’t. That weird rush of fear I’d felt earlier was suddenly paralyzing.
“We need to go. Agent Blanchet said you had five minutes to get out of here.”
I looked around. He was the only one left in the room. “Yeah, yeah, right. Do you think I could crash at your place for a few hours?”
Confusion furrowed his brow. “Yeah, sure, but what about Elle? She’s at your old man’s.”
“Miles will bring her home when she wakes up.”
“What are you doing, man? What are you thinking?”
With my heart feeling like it was in sharp, jagged pieces, I forced myself to say it out loud. “I can’t be with her. Not right now.”
His confusion mounted. “What are you talking about?”
“I can’t let her think she’s safe with me because the truth is . . . she’s anything but.”
The disappointed look on his face couldn’t be hidden. “So what? You’re going to walk away from her just like that?”
I nodded. Yeah, yeah I was.
For now.
DAY 10
ELLE
I was on a train.
It was moving fast.
Out the window the earth met the sky, and the two blended together in one giant blur. In the haze, the phrase Catch him if you can seemed to etch itself on the glass beside me. The words were so few that you’d think the thunderous sound of the wheels hitting the track would have drowned them out by now. But no, instead they just kept repeating themselves over and over in my mind.
A phrase I couldn’t seem to escape.
Catch him if you can.
Catch him if you can.
Catch him if you can.
No matter how hard I tried to block out the words, I couldn’t.
It sounded more like the title of a movie than a mantra that had me going on some crazy quest. I could practically visualize the theatrical release poster in my mind. It was as if I had seen it before.
A finely built man with long legs, running, wearing a suit—no, not a suit, a pair of track pants, Converse sneakers, sunglasses, and maybe a knit hat—being chased by a woman. The woman had ginger-colored hair. She was tall but not nearly as tall as him. The image was blurry. It didn’t matter, though, because I could still tell who it was—it was me, and I was running after Logan.
Except I wasn’t going to do that.
I’d vehemently told myself so.
Told myself I had to let him go.
And yet, somehow I found myself on the train headed to New York City with the events of the past two days replaying in my mind until I felt like they were actually taking place all over again.
The sun shining in his bedroom window wasn’t what had woken me. I’d been awake for hours. Waiting. Wondering. Pacing.
Worried, I stared at the faint yellow beams of light.
Where was he?
It took me a minute to gather the courage to get out of bed. It was dawn and he wasn’t back. That wasn’t a good sign.
I’d spent hours talking to his father during the night. If I thought I understood Logan before, now I understood him so much more. His father had told me a little about growing up the son of the mob boss, and how he’d tried to keep Logan away from that life. Killian had, too. Killian wanted the best for Logan and he knew the life he’d led wasn’t it. But then there had been Emily, her suicide, the aftermath, and the attack on Kayla. How Logan blamed himself. He had also told me how happy he was to see Logan with me, caring for someone, letting someone in, but he cautioned me—change didn’t happen overnight. The walls his son had built around himself would take a while to come down. And he asked me to be patient with Logan. I had agreed. Change, for either of us, wasn’t going to be easy. I’d spent the majority of my life avoiding relationships, not trusting men or my feelings. But what I felt for Logan was compelling, riveting, overwhelming. Fierce. And I didn’t want to let it go. Couldn’t.
I heard noises from downstairs and hurried to see if he was back.
But it wasn’t Logan in the kitchen closing the door. It was Miles. He’d just come inside. All night he’d rotated positions back and forth from his car parked on the street, to the family room, to the kitchen.
“Elle, sorry, did I wake you?”
I shook my head. “Have you heard anything?”
Miles looked anywhere but at me. “Declan just called me—”
“What did he say? Is Logan hurt?” The voice wasn’t mine, but it was asking the identical questions I was about to ask. It was Sean’s, and he was standing in the pantry alcove with a can of coffee in his hand.
“Mr. McPherson, sorry, I didn’t see you,” he answered. “Logan’s fine. He found Tommy, and nothing happened.”
Relief coursed through me and I could see Sean visibly sag in his own relief.
“It seems the DEA was following Logan and he didn’t catch the tail. They broke into the room when Logan was with Tommy before Logan could talk to Tommy.”
Step by step, I made my way to the table and sat down.
Sean did the very same thing.
Walking toward the sink, Miles spoke. “Whenever you’re ready to go, Elle, I’ll take you to your townhouse.”
I didn’t have to ask why. I knew what that meant. Logan hadn’t accomplished whatever it was he set out to do. And he had arranged this as his backup plan. The walls had gone up. He wasn’t coming back until I was gone.
I had no choice in the matter.
I was too raw from the night’s events to discuss anything any further. Sitting for a short while, I made myself get my things and let Miles drive me home.
Once there, I escaped to my room. Just wanting to shut everything out, I lay back on my bed. I had Michael to deal with, but it was too early to call him.
Michael O’Shea was the brother-in-law I never knew I had up until three months ago, and his daughter was the niece I fell in love with at first sight. It was because of her that I decided to leave the gypsy-like lifestyle I’d adopted and move to Boston. It was also because of her that I’d done what I’d done and Michael had done what he’d done.
The catalyst for coming to Boston was my missing sister, Lizzy, who still hadn’t returned to her husband and daughter. The last time I saw her was fifteen years ago when she walked away from me. My hope was now that the danger had passed, she’d turn up and maybe we could repair our damaged relationship.
Just as I closed my eyes, my phone started to ring. For one second, I thought maybe it was Logan, but I knew it wouldn’t be. Holding a breath, I looked at my screen. It was Michael’s name on it.
Nerves rattled me. Did he check with the delivery service and know the cocaine had actually been delivered last night? They were one of those third-party services and my hope was that the fly-by-night guys wouldn’t be able to be reached directly. Was I wrong? Did Michael know about Logan? About what he’d done?
“Hello,” I answered, trying to swallow my nervousness.
“Hi, it’s me. I just wanted to check with you and see if you’ve seen the news?”
“Yes, I have.” I kept my response short.
“I’m glad the delivery never arrived. It seems somehow the DEA got wind of it and intervened.”
Details weren’t given on where the product was found, so Michael really didn’t have a clue. “Does that mean everything will be okay and Clementine is out of danger?”
“I hope so. With the Blue Hill Gang behind bars, I think whatever Lizzy did will be the least of their concern.”
I really didn’t want to talk about this. There was so much I wanted to know, but not while lying to Michael. Changing gears, I asked, “Do you think Lizzy will come home now?”
“I don’t know, Elle. Listen, I have to run and get Clementine from my sister’s. I’ll call you later.”
“Yes, of course. Give her a kiss for me.”
He hung up. That was strange. I was worried about my lies, but he seemed so preoccupied, I didn’t have to be.
With that behind me, and while Miles worked on increasing security, I sat on my bed and pondered what I should do about Logan.
I thought long and hard, remembering my conversation with his father—“be patient with my son.” With his words fresh in my mind, I tried to call Logan.
He didn’t answer.
I didn’t leave a message because I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say.
And he didn’t call me back, either.
By ten A.M., I knew I couldn’t sit around anymore. It was Friday, and I had to get to my newly opened boutique, The House of Sterling.
Logan must have been in touch with Miles, because he insisted on driving me to work and spending the day with me. Knowing that, I was certain Logan would call or text or something.
Nothing.
Miles drove me home, and later that evening after he finished working on my security system, he left assu
ring me I would be locked safely inside. I was just about to head upstairs and go to bed when there was a knock on my door. Startled, my heartbeat sped up, but then I chastised myself for thinking it would be anyone who’d come here to harm me. It was probably just Miles. Perhaps he had forgotten something. But a peek through the peephole told me it was Logan.
Right away, confusion clouded my thoughts. He hadn’t called all day. Why was he here now? My heart was already in a tangle and my mind was a web of questions. Seeing him wasn’t going to help me figure out what to do.
I should have known Miles had left for a reason.
Staring at Logan, anger threatening to erupt but need overtaking me, I debated whether or not to let him in. I hated that he’d given up on us so easily. I wanted him to fight his fear of what might happen. Don’t get me wrong, I understood I could be in danger, but I truly believed Tommy was using that fear to further ruin Logan’s life.
“Elle, it’s me,” he said, his voice low, husky.
Uncertain, I stood behind the door considering my options. I knew what would happen when I opened the door. I’d see him—his knowing eyes, his hard square jaw, his even harder body, and just like that, I’d let him off the hook for thinking I was safer without him. I’d melt like the schoolgirl I knew better than to be. It would be that simple. But our situation wasn’t that simple. It was so much more complicated. And I hated that it was.
The knocking persisted until I couldn’t stand it anymore. I longed to see him, to smell him, to touch him. I didn’t want to be apart from him.
“Elle, please.” His voice broke.
My heart stilled at the sound of his tone. He was the stronger one, my protector, and yet right now, the dauntless, fearless man needed me and I couldn’t shut him out no matter how much I knew I should. The truth was, deep in my heart, I knew there was no way this thing between us was going to end well. He just wasn’t willing to accept that he wasn’t responsible for my safety, and that fact was going to continue to eat at him and destroy us.
Still, I couldn’t turn him away.
All I could do was hope that I was strong enough to make this work for the both of us.
With a shaky hand, I opened the door and there he stood, all male, all need, all hard and yet soft. With his head down and his sorrowful, regretful hazel eyes blazing into mine, I was his. Any sense of self-preservation I had been feeling vanished.