by Emma Slate
“Because it wasn’t just Arlington,” Flynn reminded me. “There were two others. Jane had a vendetta, and she didn’t trust Ramsey with the truth of it.”
Secrets, lies, more secrets. We were buried beneath them, trapped.
Doomed.
Chapter 46
I lasted two hours at Alia and Jake’s restaurant opening. Though I was happy for them, believed they’d make the tiny brick-walled restaurant in the heart of Greenpoint a complete and utter success, I could no longer pretend to be happy.
I knew what I had to do.
Tears had been lurking behind my eyes all day. I hadn’t been able to force myself to go to the hospital or talk to Quinn. I didn’t know if she’d seen Sasha; I didn’t know if he was awake. All I knew was that every moment he was still on this earth, he didn’t want to be. That weighed heavily on me. And I couldn’t drink it away, or numb it away, because the truth didn’t die, no matter how hard you tried to kill it.
“You all right, love?” Flynn asked, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.
“Upset stomach,” I lied.
“Let’s go home,” he suggested.
I shook my head. “You stay. This is important.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Take the driver.”
“No, I’ll just grab a cab.”
He leaned down to kiss me. “I’ll slip out of here in about an hour.”
I kissed him again, taking a moment to savor the feel of his lips on mine. “See you soon.” I headed towards the front of the restaurant to the waiting hostess. I was just shrugging into my black coat when Alia spotted me in the corner. She sauntered towards me, high heels clacking on the polished wood floor. Her dark eyes glittered in the dim lighting, her long black hair sleek and shiny.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“Home,” I said. “I’m not feeling well.”
“Headache?” she pressed.
“Stomach.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Not from our food, I hope.”
I grinned. “No. Your chef is very talented.”
“Have some champagne.” Alia thrust her flute at me. “It settles the stomach.”
“I’d love to. But I really just… I need to go. Please don’t be mad.”
“I’m not.”
“Promise?”
She grinned. “You showed up, didn’t you?”
“Ah, that was a not-so-subtle dig at Lacey.”
“What? You mean she couldn’t fly all the way from New Zealand just for this?” She shook her head. “She did send me a video message apology.”
I looked around the restaurant, catching Flynn’s eye and smiling. “You did it, Alia. You and Jake. You said you wanted to and you made it happen. I’m so happy for you.”
Alia leaned down and embraced me. “Thank you.”
I hugged her back before pulling away. “I promise we’ll celebrate, just the two of us, hard core.”
She snorted. “I’ll believe that when it actually happens.”
I chuckled. “It might be late, but I promise. And you know I don’t break my promises.”
“That’s true,” she agreed. “You are a lady of your word.”
With one last hug, I departed, heading out into the dark, cold night. I hailed a cab and gave the cabbie an address. I settled back against the seat, my heart thudding in my ears. It took twenty minutes to get back into the city, the taxi turning down a dark, nearly abandoned street. Half way down the block, the cabbie stopped.
I looked out the window at the deserted street. There were no lights except for street lamps; it was quiet, and no one was about.
“You sure this is the place?” the cabbie asked, looking at me in his rearview mirror.
“Yes.” I handed him a fifty. “Keep the change.”
“You want me to wait?” he asked.
I shook my head and then climbed out. I waited until the cabbie put the car in gear and drove away. When I was sure I was alone on the derelict street, I walked around the corner and found the two metal doors on the sidewalk. Crouching down, I knocked three times and moved to the sidewalk.
A few seconds passed and then the metal doors opened to reveal a set of metal stairs. I carefully navigated my way down them and came to stand on a cement floor.
The metal doors slammed shut, sealing me inside. It was dark and I pressed my hand to a wall as I continued walking. Lights flickered on, low, but enough that I could finally see my way. The hallway opened up into a square room. A man sat in a folding chair, dressed in a dark suit; he was money, he was power.
He was the head of the Chinese mafia with connections to the black market. He had gotten me the same untraceable neurotoxin The White Company used.
He rose when I came to stand in front of him. The man was trim and lean. Handsome. He didn’t say anything and neither did I.
Opening my clutch, I stuck my hand in the slit of the lining and fished out the wad of cash. I handed it to him and waited for him to count it. When he finished, he inclined his head and reached into his breast pocket to pull out a capped syringe.
I took it and put it under the lining of my clutch before zipping it closed.
“Hungry?” he asked, startling the quiet. “My family restaurant makes the best Peking duck in the city.”
I smiled. “Another time. I have somewhere to be.”
Chapter 47
I managed to get into Sasha’s hospital room, sight unseen, dressed like a member of the hospital staff. The guards were nowhere to be seen, and I wondered if Sasha had had anything to do with that.
Gray walls, florescent lighting. No wonder so many people died in hospitals—the decor was downright depressing.
I took a seat next to his bedside; machines beeped, monitors I didn’t understand showing his stats. “Hey,” I whispered.
His eyes opened. Blue. Bright. Filled with anguish. And hope.
“Are you sure this is what you want?”
He closed his eyes, like he was bracing himself. Fortitude. Finally, he nodded.
“Why not Quinn? Why isn’t she doing this?”
“Not strong enough,” he rasped. Every word he spoke took supreme effort.
“Don’t feel guilty,” I said, my voice steel. “For asking me to do this for you. I’d go to hell with you. I’d fight by your side, every step of the way.”
He blinked and I noticed the sheen, but I continued to talk. “I wish I was having another child,” I said. “Boy or girl, I’d have named it Sasha.”
“Barrett,” he whispered.
I got up and leaned over to kiss a swatch of skin on his forehead. “You’ve been… if it weren’t for you…”
His hand reached out, searching for mine. I took it, held on to it, making sure my tears didn’t fall. My emotions didn’t matter. Not now. I could fall apart later.
“Take care of Quinn.”
“I will.”
“Happy.”
“She will be,” I assured him. “Promise.”
He cracked a smile. I brought his hand to my lips and kissed his hand. “I love you. Be at peace.”
He closed his eyes, signaling he was ready. I dropped his hand and went for the syringe in my pocket.
“I don’t want you to stay,” he said. “After you do it… leave.”
“I don’t want you to be alone,” I whispered.
“Born that way. Die that way.”
I glared at him.
“Someone could see you,” he said quietly. “Don’t want trouble for you. I sent my guards away. You have to leave before they come back. We don’t have a lot of time.” His eyes went flinty. “Let’s do this, Barrett.”
I got up and moved on wooden legs to stand by his IV. I uncapped the syringe and looked at it a moment.
“No regrets,” he said. “I don’t have any.”
My eyes flew to his. “Really?”
He shook his head, a rueful pull of his lips appearing on his scorched, terrifyi
ng face. “Can’t regret your own mortality.”
I shot the syringe into his IV line, my hand shaking ever so slightly. “You can curse it though.”
“Da,” he agreed.
When I was finished, I put the cap back on and stuck it in my pocket. I looked at him and then leaned over to brush my lips against his.
“Well, I guess I do have one regret,” he said, his eyes drifting shut.
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“Never got to sleep with you.”
I laughed and headed for the door, wanting that to be the last moment of me he remembered.
Heart heavy, tears finally spilling over onto my cheeks, I made it out of the hospital. I gulped a breath of cold air, choking on it. I shoved my hands into my coat pockets, burrowing in the collar, wanting to climb under the covers and never get up.
“Barrett.”
I whirled to find Flynn waiting for me. “What are you doing here?”
He cocked his head to the side. “Me? What about you? I thought you weren’t feeling well.”
“I’m not feeling well,” I murmured, my gaze dropping from his. I couldn’t do this with him now. I didn’t have the strength to lie to him, to protect him from the knowledge of what I’d just done, of what Sasha had asked me to do.
“So you came to the hospital for a stomachache?”
“Flynn, I…”
“Yes?” He waited.
In three strides I was in his arms, clutching his solid frame and shaking like an alcoholic without a drink. Flynn’s arms came around me and his lips brushed my hair.
“You’re a good liar, Barrett.” When I stiffened, he clarified, “I mean that as a compliment. But you’re also my wife, the mother of my children, and I know you.”
His arms tightened around me, refusing to let me go, not that I wanted to go anywhere.
“You left a good friend’s restaurant opening all in the name of not feeling well. Very out of character. If you’d truly been feeling ill, you would’ve held it in, sipped on club soda, done anything to stay. Because your friends mean the world to you. And then I started to think about what could drag you away from a celebration. Only a friend in need.”
He gently threaded his fingers through my hair, forcing me to look up at him. He stared down at me, eyes clear. The cold air swirled around us. The snow had already turned to brown slush. Nothing like a New York winter to remind me it wasn’t home. I missed Dornoch. I missed my children.
I’d learned to live with my choices, my losses. But Sasha… what I’d had to do for him… I didn’t know if I’d ever make peace with that.
“What did you do, Barrett?” Flynn asked quietly.
“I—”
“Wait,” he said. “Let’s go back to The Rex and then you can tell me.”
Reluctantly, I nodded. Flynn took my hand and led me away from the hospital towards the street. Flynn raised his free hand to flag down a cab.
“Where’s the car?” I asked.
“I wanted to come here alone,” he explained. My phone rang, and I fished around in my coat pocket, wondering if it was a call from the hospital, letting me know that Sasha had passed on. But it wasn’t the hospital—or even Quinn. It was Dex.
“Hey,” I said, trying not to sound short or exhausted.
“Hey,” he said, sounding like he was bouncing off the walls. A diet of Gummy bears and Red Bull probably had turned him into a superhero.
“Bad time?” he asked.
If only he knew…
“No,” I assured him. “What’s up?”
“I think I found something,” he said, voice all but humming with excitement. “I think I found Lila’s boyfriend. A few months ago she was seen with a guy. Andrew. Andrew Schaefer.”
Chapter 48
I came to with Flynn’s arms wrapped around me, blue eyes trained on my face. “Hen,” he said, voice thick with worry. “What just happened? Your hand went slack in mine and you went down.”
“Phone call,” I murmured, closing my eyes briefly. And the hits just kept coming.
“You dropped your phone,” he explained. “It shattered.”
Dex. Phone call. Andrew. This was all about Andrew.
“Help me up?” I asked, putting a hand to Flynn’s chest.
He stayed close, a hand on my back. “What happened?”
“Dex,” I said. “News about Lila.” My head swam, my stomach churned. I gulped in air as I leaned into Flynn’s side.
“Easy,” he said when I pulled away and tried to stand upright. I was wobbly, shaky. Dumfounded. “What’s the news about Lila?”
“She was dating Andrew,” I whispered, my eyes flying to Flynn’s.
His mouth gaped. “Your brother?”
I nodded. Flynn’s mouth continued to hang open. He was completely gobsmacked and it would’ve been completely funny… under different circumstances.
“I can’t—cab,” he clipped, holding his hand up again.
I looked around for my phone, finding it a few feet away. Picking it up, I pressed the power button. Surprisingly, the shattered screen lit up and turned on. And began to ring immediately. Because the screen was broken, I couldn’t see who was calling. Thinking it was Dex, I answered it and said, “Dex, I’ll be back—”
“Not Dex,” came Ash’s angry voice.
A cab stopped at the curb and Flynn opened the side door for me. I made my way towards the car, pinching the bridge of my nose.
“Ash,” I began, sliding into the cab. “Can we please do this another time?”
“No!” Ash growled. “You told Duncan I was pregnant!”
Flynn scooted in next to me, shut the door, and then gave the driver The Rex address.
“I did not tell Duncan you were pregnant,” I said, my eyes darting to Flynn. “I told Flynn who told Duncan.” Ash’s sputter of indignation was loud in my ear.
“Look,” I snapped. “I’ve had a rough day. And this bullshit going on between you and Duncan is childish and pointless. You love him, he loves you. He didn’t fuck Lila or get her knocked up. So forgive him, let him move back in, and get over it!”
I pressed the end button—or what I thought was the end button. The phone went dark, and I shoved it in my pocket.
Flynn didn’t say anything; he didn’t need to. He wrapped his arm around me and pulled me into his side. I cuddled up next to him, pressing my eyes to his coat. I didn’t know what to feel, what to think about. There was so much going on in my head.
As soon as we got back to The Rex, we headed straight for Dex’s suite. I knocked on the door and he answered immediately, looking jubilant and frazzled.
“How long since he’s slept?” Flynn whispered.
“My bet? Four days.”
We sat on the edge of the bed while Dex took up residence in the desk chair. He scrolled through pictures of Andrew and Lila holding hands and standing on the sidewalk kissing.
“Wait,” I said to Dex. “Can you go back to that last photo?”
Dex hit the arrow. My brother’s face was turned to the camera, a content smile on his face as Lila kissed his cheek. They looked happy. And in love. My gaze went to the corner of the photo, my mouth opening in surprise. Even though half the sign was missing, cut off by the end of the frame, I knew it.
“That’s Paddy’s,” I said. “The Irish bar in my home town. Good find, Dex.”
He looked momentarily confused by my lack of reaction. Then again he hadn’t been there when I’d fainted. I got up from the bed. “Promise me you’ll sleep tonight,” I said.
“I will. One more thing,” Dex said as Flynn and I started to move to the door. “Your brother… he’s the father of Lila’s baby.”
Nausea swam through my throat, but I choked it down. Flynn’s arm wrapped around my shoulder.
Dex hastened to reassure me. “We don’t know for sure that he’s the one who—”
“I know,” I cut him off. “Let’s go. Dex, thank you for everything.”
Dex gave a hal
fhearted salute before falling onto the bed, face first. Dramatic, maybe, but I understood what it felt like to run on fumes for days.
Flynn waited until we were in the elevator before he asked, “What are you thinking?”
“What if this has never been about you,” I asked.
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“What if in trying to take you down, Andrew was really going after me?”
The elevator doors opened, and we stepped into the penthouse. I kicked off my shoes and shrugged out of my coat, leaving them where they fell. Immediately, I went for the iPad resting on the coffee table.
“You think this is Andrew’s crazy vendetta to bring you down all because of some nasty feelings from his childhood?”
“Pretty much,” I said, taking a seat on the couch. iPad in hand, I opened a new browser window and searched for Paddy’s. “Think about it. Andrew and Filippi work together, right? Filippi wants to take out Sasha because he took over Italian territory.” I momentarily swallowed a lump of emotion when I thought of my friend.
“But Sasha is also one of my closest friends.” I looked up at Flynn who nodded for me to go on. “Take out Sasha, hurt me. Lila was supposed to seduce you. Drive a wedge in our marriage and that would’ve hurt me.”
“But it didn’t go according to plan,” Flynn said. “Lila appeared to go after Duncan.”
“Yes. They planted the seed that Lila was carrying Duncan’s baby.”
“All that did was hurt Ash and Duncan,” Flynn pointed out.
“On the surface maybe. Ash is my best and oldest friend. Her hurting hurt me.”
Flynn shook his head. “Still seems like a stretch to me.”
I shrugged. “Think what you want. But I know my brother. He’s an angry man who was once an angry child who never felt like he got what he deserved. This is personal. And we keep fucking up his plan.”
“So what are we going to do?” Flynn asked, a slight smile curving his lips.
“May I borrow your phone?” I asked him.
He reached into his pocket and then handed it to me. I dialed the number to Paddy’s Irish Pub.
“Paddy’s,” a gruff voice answered. I could hear music and laughter in the background and I was instantly nostalgic for my hometown. Memories of my deceased parents came at me and I shut them down, refusing to think about them.