One Good Reason (A Boston Love Story Book 3)

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One Good Reason (A Boston Love Story Book 3) Page 20

by Julie Johnson


  “Nate? It’s Parker…”

  We’re moving. He’s holding me one-handed like some kind of superhero and muttering frantically into his phone. I only catch some of what he’s saying.

  “…snow… blood… shivering… skin is fucking blue… like ice… Luca… okay… see you soon.”

  I hear the distant clanging of my ancient elevator. Feel the warmth of a man’s mouth at my ear, the pressure of his big hands on my back as he whispers words into my neck. I know, even in my disoriented state, that he’s not talking into the phone anymore. He’s talking to me.

  “I’ve got you, honey. I’ve got you.” There’s a pleading note in his voice. “Don’t you fucking leave me. Didn’t even know what I was looking for, until I met you, Zoe. I didn’t even think it was possible to feel like this about someone. So you stay with me, okay? Stay.”

  I open my mouth to tell him I’m still here, that I won’t leave him, that he makes me feel more alive than anyone I’ve ever met, that his presence is enough to remind me why living in this brutal, ugly world is worth it, despite the pain and the heartbreak…

  I find I can only manage one word.

  “Parker.”

  My murmur is so quiet it barely makes it past my numb lips. But he must hear me, because his arms crush me a little tighter against his chest and I hear his voice crack with emotion again when he says, “That’s right, Zoe. I’m here. And I’m not ever letting you go.”

  The last thing I feel before I slip unconscious once more is his mouth ghosting over mine in a kiss that feels like a promise.

  * * *

  When I finally wake up, I’m in my bed. Every lamp in the loft is lit, basking the space in light as if to banish the shadows outside. Blinking to adjust to the sudden brightness, I hear several voices nearby, speaking in low whispers. The hostility in their tones is apparent despite the controlled volume.

  Beneath the mound of blankets swaddled around my body, my hair is wet. They must’ve put me in a warm shower, at some point, but I don’t have any memory of that. Nor do I recall putting on the pair of yoga pants and sweater covering my limbs, which means they probably dressed me.

  I don’t have the energy to feel embarrassed that any number of people potentially saw me naked.

  There’s a bandage of some kind stuck to my neck, taped over the spot where my assaulter’s knife dug into my skin. It’s sticky and uncomfortable, placed at the point where my jaw curves beneath my ear, and I plan on removing it as soon as I can find my way out of the stack of blankets pressing me into the bed.

  The voices are angry, biting words at each other in clipped, quiet tones.

  “…maybe we should take her to the hospital…”

  “…think I know what she wants better than you do, rich boy…”

  “…need to focus on whoever attacked her…”

  I can barely move, what with the seventy-five blankets on top of me, but I somehow struggle into a sitting position. The conversation across the loft goes silent instantly as the three men notice my movement and stride to the side of the bed.

  Parker, Luca, and Nate.

  They’re wearing identical expressions of anger and concern as they approach.

  Parker reaches me first, settling in on the bed at my side and wrapping an arm around my back with such care, you’d think I were made of glass. Luca comes around my other side and stands by the edge of the bed, looking down at me with a mix of disapproval and worry. Nate stops at the footboard with his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes locked on my face, hyper-alert and highly intelligent.

  “Hi,” I croak, attempting to smile at the trio of badasses surrounding me.

  They all frown deeply.

  I sigh and feel Parker’s arm tighten around me. “Are you okay?” he asks intently.

  “I’m fine.” I think. “How long was I out?”

  Parker’s expression is still worried. “A few hours.”

  “Babe.” Luca shakes his head. “Scared us.”

  “What happened?” Nate asks.

  I look up at the dark-haired investigator, straight into his black eyes, and feel my throat clench. Nathaniel Knox is intense. It’s miraculous to me that a man like him could love a woman like Phoebe, who can’t go ten seconds without cracking a joke.

  Sometimes I guess two people really do complete each other — the jagged, broken pieces of their souls aligning perfectly, to create an undamaged whole.

  The thought makes a fluttery, uncomfortable feeling stir inside my stomach.

  “Zoe.”

  Parker’s voice pulls me back to reality, and I realize I’ve been spacing out.

  “Sorry.” My voice feels raspy and sore, so I swallow and try again. “I was walking home. It started raining, then snowing. I kept feeling like someone was following me, but every time I looked back I was alone on the street. And then… he grabbed me right when I reached the doors.”

  They don’t interrupt. They just watch me in silence, waiting for me to finish.

  “I never saw his face. He was big. Strong. Southie accent. That’s all I know.” I swallow again. “He had a knife. He — he put it to my throat so I couldn’t struggle.”

  The air gets a little tense, when I say that. Parker’s arm tightens again.

  “And…” I dart a glance at Luca. “He said…” Breathe.

  “What?” Nate prompts softly. “What did he say, Zoe?”

  “He said to stay away — to tell my boyfriend to stay away. And to make sure he knows if he tries anything, I’ll pay the price.”

  Before I can explain, Luca’s rounded the bed, grabbed Parker by the lapels of his button-down, and hauled him to his feet.

  “What the fuck did you do?” he hisses.

  “Go on, just give me an excuse to hit you,” Parker returns, his voice vibrating with anger. “Please.”

  “Luca!” I yell, jumping to my feet – ouch, every bone in my body aches like I’ve been hit by a truck – and pushing my way between them. “Stop!”

  Thankfully Nate is there to intervene, because there’s literally no chance of them listening to me. Emotions are running too high for either of them to see reason, at the moment.

  “Come on,” Nate says, shoving the men apart with a rough jab to both their chests. “This really how you two want to play this? Upsetting Zoe even more, after what she’s been through?”

  His words snap the two brutes out of it — they back off, but still eye each other with wary glares and angry expressions, each ready to go for the jugular at the slightest provocation.

  “Knew you were terrible for her,” Luca mutters darkly. “Should’ve stopped it. Should’ve locked her up until she forgot about your stupid ass.”

  “Zoe makes her own decisions,” Parker volleys back. “Always will, when she’s with me. That’s exactly why she’ll never be with someone like you.”

  “Enough,” Nate growls. “Both of you. Or I’ll make you leave.”

  They shut up. Grudgingly.

  For a moment, there’s total silence in the loft. I sink back onto the edge of my bed, feeling exhausted down to my marrow from the attack, the onslaught of emotions, everything.

  “Luca,” I start in a soft voice that makes the three of them focus on me. “He wasn’t talking about Parker.”

  “What?” they all say in unison.

  “The man… he was talking about you.” I look at my best friend, hating to see the guilt filling his eyes as he stares back at me. “The factory. He must’ve seen you there, when you went to check it out.”

  The blood drains out of Luca’s face as he realizes what that means — that he’s the one who endangered my life. Not Parker, who he was so quick to blame.

  “What are you talking about?” Nate asks. “What factory?”

  “Does this have to do with the Lancaster case?” Parker adds, sitting down by my side again.

  “Lancaster?” Nate’s voice is dark. “Robert Lancaster? The CEO of Lancaster Consolidated?”

  �
�I think so.” I chew my lip. “Luca and I… well, we were investigating some of the LC financials, after they screwed all their employees out of their pensions and closed the factories without warning. But… I think we found something.” I glance at Parker. “Something bigger.”

  “Explain,” Nate says in a no-nonsense tone.

  I do a quick run-through of my trip to the Lynn factory, the pipes I found, the man who was watching me from across the parking lot as I left.

  “You didn’t tell me about that,” Luca growls angrily. “You never fucking said there was some LC goon keeping tabs you. Jesus, babe, what were you thinking?”

  “I wasn’t sure he was watching me! Not really!” I protest. “How could I know something like that?”

  “Still should’ve told me,” Luca grumbles.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I think…”

  “What?” Parker asks.

  “I think it might’ve been the same guy. The one watching me at the factory and the one who attacked me.” I expel a sharp breath. “I’m not positive. It’s just… a gut feeling.”

  The three of them are silent for a few moments, each lost in their thoughts.

  It’s Nate, who finally breaks the silence. “So, you think Lancaster is covering something up.”

  “I don’t just think,” I say, rising shakily to my feet and crossing to the desk where I keep the file with all my notes from the investigation. “I found a work order, proving the pipes were installed after the plant closed.”

  I pass the document to Nate, and he studies it for a long moment. “Could be asbestos, some kind of toxin he exposed his employees to, while they were working at the factory. No other reason to go in and change out the pipes after closing things down. Especially if he’s just going to demolish it in a few months.”

  “He’s covering his ass,” Parker mutters.

  “That’s the sense I got, when I went to the plant,” Luca says, nodding. “Air ducts had been scrubbed, too. And the water pipes had been rigged to pump shit straight into the bay. Highly doubt that’s compliant with EPA guidelines, but in a pinch, if you’re trying to flush your system and get rid of evidence…”

  “It’s all circumstantial.” Nate shrugs. “We don’t have anything besides the work order and a sense of suspicion.”

  “And the fact that Lancaster is a shitty, corrupt fucking asshole.” Parker sounds pissed beyond belief.

  “Agreed,” Luca mutters.

  “Did we just agree on something?” Parker’s eyebrows lift.

  Luca’s mouth twitches. “Don’t push it, rich boy.”

  “Wait. Asbestos…” My voice is soft. “That would cause medical problems, right?”

  Nate nods. “Anything from mesothelioma to lung cancer to immune system disorders.”

  “Hold on a second,” I whisper, limping over to my computer. It takes a minute, but I pull up the document I was looking for and scroll down until I find it. “There! Right there.” I jab my fingers at the screen and the three of them lean close to read the name on at the bottom of the staff list.

  “Doctor Charles Birkin,” Nate mutters, staring at the thumbnail image of the middle-aged man in a white lab coat. “Who the hell is that?”

  “And why did Lancaster need a full-time doctor onsite at the Lynn factory?” Parker adds.

  “I found an email from Lancaster to his Head of Security, a guy named Linus… he mentioned Birkin in the message, along with some kind of transfer – I’m guessing it was a payoff.” I feel puzzle pieces starting to snap together in my brain. “I did a little digging to see what I could find on Birkin. Turns out, Lancaster was a big proponent of in-house medical visits for his workers. Oddly considerate, since he paid most of them minimum wage. Don’t you think?”

  “He knew they were sick. Or… that they’ll get sick eventually.” Luca sounds disgusted. “I can’t fucking believe this.”

  “He thinks if he makes it look like he fired ten thousand workers because of budgetary issues, he’ll be able to avoid paying out millions in healthcare costs for workers he poisoned.” My voice is dark. “That fucking asshole.”

  “If he gets rid of them now, he’s less liable in their lawsuits when they finally start getting sick and realize what’s happening.” Parker’s hand squeezes my shoulder. “From a business standpoint, he’s covering his ass.”

  “We’ll need to talk to some of the workers to confirm,” Nate says. “See if any of them are exhibiting health symptoms, find out exactly how many times they saw Lancaster’s doctor and what he told them about their health. Maybe get them in to see an actual, unbiased health professional.”

  “Shouldn’t be tough. Most of them live locally,” Luca mutters. “I can start making house calls later today.”

  “Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve,” I remind him. “Not exactly the gift most of them were hoping for.”

  Luca shrugs. “If you had cancer, wouldn’t you want to know sooner than later?”

  “Point taken.” I push away from my computer and start to pace. “Lancaster is not going to get away with this. I’m going to pin that bastard to the wall, so help me god.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Parker steps in front of me and places his hands on my shoulders to stop my pacing. “Let’s keep in mind for a second that literally three hours ago, Lancaster sent some thug from his security team to attack you, right outside your home. If you think you’re still going after him, you’re dead wrong, darling.”

  My mouth drops open to retort, but Luca jumps in before I can.

  “He’s right, babe.”

  I whirl to face my best friend. “You’re fucking kidding me, right?”

  He stares back stonily.

  Parker’s expression is identical.

  “Great! You two finally start agreeing on shit at the worst possible time.” I scream in frustration. “How can you even think I’m going to consider walking away from this? That I’d let Lancaster get away with what he’s doing? It’s my case! My investigation! You can’t take it from me.”

  “No one’s expecting you to let Lancaster get away with this,” Nate says in that deep, intense voice of his.

  I glance at him and see he’s totally serious. My brows lift. “You aren’t?”

  His head shakes. “I’ll take over on the investigative end. Do some surveillance, put ears to the ground and see what I hear. No offense, but it’s what I do for a living, and I’ll find out more in a shorter time frame than you could anyway.”

  I scowl. He’s a patronizing ass.

  Unfortunately, he’s also right.

  “And I suppose you just expect me to sit on my hands and do nothing?” I ask in a scathing tone.

  Nate’s head shakes. “No. I expect you to do what you’re best at — keep pouring through his files until you find things we can use against him.”

  “Nothing I find is going to be admissible in a court of law. Hacking a server isn’t exactly the same as possessing a search warrant,” I point out. “You do realize that, right?”

  Nate’s lips slowly curl into a scary smile. “Who said anything about a court of law?”

  A shiver goes up my spine. This boy does not fuck around.

  “I’ll go get started.” Nate nods at Parker. “Let you know what I find out.” His gaze moves to Luca. “It would be helpful if you could come back to headquarters, discuss some of the shit you found at the factory in more detail with me and my men. I’m sure Lancaster has the area locked down, now that they know you and Zoe are digging into things. We might not be able to get in a second time.”

  Luca nods. “All right.” He glances at me, then Parker, then back at me. “You gonna be okay?”

  I roll my eyes. “Luca.”

  He holds his hands up in surrender. “Fine. Got it. I’m going.” He turns and starts for the elevator, gets halfway there, stops in his tracks, and stomps back to me. Before I can ask what he’s doing, he hooks an arm around my neck, hauls me close, and plants a kiss on the side of my head. “Scared me
today, babe. Don’t do it again.”

  “I’ll do my best,” I whisper, telling myself not to cry.

  He nods, turns, and follows Nate into the elevator. I wave as the doors slide shut and they rattle away. When the sound of the elevator fades, the loft is abruptly silent. Parker Can’t-Stop-Babbling West is uncharacteristically quiet. I look at him, fully prepared to ask if he’s feeling feverish, and feel my eyes widen.

  He’s sitting on the edge of my bed with his face in his hands.

  My feet falter. The words dry up on my tongue.

  I’ve never seen him look so utterly… Defeated. That’s the only word for it. It sends an awful, gut-wrenching sensation through me.

  “Parker?” My voice is shaky as I walk slowly toward him and sink down by his side on the edge of the mattress. “Honey… are you okay?”

  He heaves a sigh and pulls his hands away to glance over at me. “Are you?” he asks in a broken voice.

  I blink. “It’s just a cut. It’ll heal. I’ll be fine.”

  “I’m not talking about the cut, Zoe.”

  “Then…” My mouth gapes a bit. “I… I don’t know what you mean.”

  He looks away. “I talked to Phoebe.”

  A lump forms in my throat. No matter how many times I swallow, I can’t seem to dislodge it. “Oh? And?”

  He looks back at me and his hazel eyes are so sad it steals my breath. “And she told me what happened. You storming out of lunch with the girls.”

  “So, I didn’t want to sit around gossiping over cupcakes. Sue me.”

  “We’ll get to the reason you stormed out of there later.” He straightens so he’s no longer hunched over and stares down into my eyes. “Point is, that was hours ago, Zoe. Phoebe called me at two. I found you at six. Lying in the snow, half frozen to death. You were fucking blue. I thought…” His voice breaks, and it damn near kills me to hear it. He runs a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated, and when he speaks again his tone is low, like he’s barely hanging onto his control. “I thought you were dead.”

  I suck in a breath. With a tentative hand, I reach for his. He flinches when my fingers curl over his knuckles.

 

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