“Mister! Mister!” The boy called to Linc, showcasing his gapped teeth, eyes saucer-big as he jabbed a finger toward the alley to his right. All around him, residents of the hill slowed to a stop, staring curiously down the same alley the little boy pointed to.
Linc ran over as quickly as his legs would allow and followed the boy’s finger down an alleyway that was lined with exposed brick covered in graffiti, wobbly fire escapes, and inky asphalt sprinkled with puddles.
A puddle in the asphalt splashed under Lisa’s bare feet as she raced away, her long black hair fluttering behind her as she ran, holding a Glock-22 in one hand.
“Lisa! Stop!” Linc’s heart hit his feet as he flew into the alley, chasing after her, panting out each haggard breath. “Stop!”
She didn’t stop, disappearing around a corner at the end of the alley.
Linc was right on her heels, barreling around the corner seconds later, taking hold of the chain-linked gate for leverage, the steel wire jingling as he did. He caught sight of her just as she made it to the end of that alley and disappeared around another corner. He was on her like glue, and in seconds he’d cleared the same corner just in time to catch sight of her running barefoot down the middle of the street.
Before she could move another step, however, a police cruiser came blaring around the corner, sirens wailing. The wheels of the cruiser kicked up white smoke as the driver came to a sudden stop at the sight of Lisa, blocking her path.
Lisa tripped over her feet at the sight of the vehicle and tumbled down to the asphalt.
The driver of the cruiser threw open his door just as Lisa fell to the ground, jumping out of the driver’s seat and pointing his gun at her over the hood of the car. “Freeze! Drop your weapon, or I will shoot!”
Lisa recovered in a flash, leaping back up to her feet, Glock still in hand as she turned away from the cruiser. Just as she began to run in the opposite direction, she caught sight of Linc, her eyes expanded, and she immediately slowed to a stop.
“Drop your weapon!” the cop in the cruiser demanded again, louder this time, his gun still primed at Lisa’s back.
The moment their eyes locked, Linc lifted his own gun and pointed it at Lisa, gasping softly as tears filled his eyes.
But he didn’t shoot.
Linc implored his fellow officer, “Don’t shoot!”
Lisa’s chest heaved as Linc began toward her, moving on a slow foot. She held his eyes with a shake of her head, tears spilling over her cheeks.
Swallowing thickly, his own eyes glistening, gun wobbling in his hand, distantly aware of the police sirens blaring in from behind him, Linc kept the gun primed at Lisa with one hand while showing her his palm with the other.
“Lisa,” he begged, his teeth clenched, the first tear racing down his own cheek as he continued slowly toward her, always aware of the gun shaking in her own hand. “Put the gun down.”
As her eyes locked to his, a pained gleam dashed across her face, reddening her cheeks and parting her lips. A soft cry escaped her, making her face crumble.
“Lisa!” Linc took his gun in both hands this time, squaring it. “Put. The. Gun. Down.”
Silence.
With heaving breath, Lisa turned away from Linc, faced the officer behind the cruiser, and raised her gun.
Linc jolted. “No!”
The officer fired before she had even finished lifting the weapon, not once, not twice, but three times, sending her barreling back as the bullets struck her chest, her shoulder, and her stomach, sending blood flying and splattering to the broken down streets. Her fingers went limp first—gun clattering to the street—before the rest of her body gave out as well.
Linc closed the space between them and was there to catch her when her knees caved in under her, easing her the rest of the way down to the ground.
A sob left his lips as he sank into the street with her in his arms, teeth chattering wildly as he frantically tried to cover the bullet wounds gushing blood all over her white dress. Every wound he covered, it seemed, caused another to bleed more profusely, making a new piece of his heart shatter to a million pieces every second. For five years he’d dreamed of the day when he’d finally hold her in his arms again, but he’d never imagined it would be like this.
Even as Linc fell apart, Lisa exhaled as if she’d just enjoyed her first breath in five long years. As if there weren’t three bullet holes in her chest and stomach, spurting blood, working hard to steal every breath she managed to take, knowing soon, one of them would be the last.
She blinked slowly, her eyelids heavier, lazier, with each blink, her breathing more hoarse and ragged with each rise and fall of her chest.
She lifted a weak hand up to his cheek, licking her parched lips, trying to speak even as her breathing came slower. Even as every wisp of life slowly left her. “I had to…”
Another cry tore up Linc’s throat, too broken to even speak as he cuddled her deeper into his chest.
“If I’d set Pablo up—” Her voice broke, and after a heavy swallow, came back weaker than before. “His soldiers would’ve killed Emma… as retaliation. It has to look like he and I died as a… as a team…” Her eyes slowly closed, but she managed to fight through it and open them once more. “Do you understand?”
Linc shook his head softly, still unable to find words, still putting pressure on her wounds, his hands and clothes covered in blood. His white t-shirt nearly as red as her dress.
Lisa sputtered out a cough that caused blood to spill from her lips.
“Jesus,” Linc croaked, voice barely audible as the sight shredded him to pieces.
“Last time I saw Emma, she was in London…” She fell into a fit of coughs again, but no blood came that time, even as her body continued slowly shutting down, driving her to choose her words wisely. “You have to—” When the next breath didn’t come as easily, she was forced to gasp it in, her failing lungs making an unbearable sound. She struggled to finish what she was saying through clenched teeth. “Find her. Save her. No police. Just you. You have to… get inside… and do it on your own.” She heaved softly. “Do you understand?”
Linc’s watery eyes searched hers.
She didn’t push for affirmation, knowing deep in her heart that he’d heard her. Even as the last wisps of life left her, she still managed a small smile up at him, the tips of her weakening fingers still caressing his cheek. “Seeing you in that hotel room last night… was the happiest… moment of my life.”
One tear after another raced down Linc’s cheeks as her eyes fell closed, her hand going limp and falling from his face. Only when she’d breathed her last breath did he cradle his sobbing face into the crook of her neck, lifting her lifeless body until every inch of it was sealed to his, her blood soaking through her dress and dampening his t-shirt.
Even as his fellow officers slowly multiplied, surrounding him, approaching on a slow foot, and even as the blare of sirens grew louder from every angle, Linc didn’t release her. His hold didn’t loosen. His cries didn’t slow.
Not even when Lieutenant Chavez’s whispered voice came into his ear. Her soothing hand on his shoulder.
He couldn’t hear anything.
He couldn’t feel anything.
From that day forward, he knew he never would.
27
Later that evening, across town, Gage sat in a chair next to the guest bed, watching Scarlett sleep. He didn’t watch her in a creepy or even adoring way, but with naked impatience gleaming in his eyes. Just how much red wine had she smashed the night before? Was the idea of marrying him so devastating that she’d literally drank herself into a coma? He checked his watch—frustrated to see she’d been passed out for nearly fourteen hours. If he hadn’t already checked her pulse in suspicion, he’d have guessed she’d died in her sleep.
Leaning forward on his knees, which hadn’t stopped bopping for hours, he fought every bone in his body that yearned to lean forward and wake her up. He’d decided, less than five minut
es after her drunk-ass had passed out the night before, that it was now or never. That, while her plan wasn’t exactly sophisticated, it was still better than nothing. Now that he knew Eugene had broken his word, Gage was positive his father would fire him. But he hadn’t done it yet. Gage still had unfiltered access to the Celeste. It was access he could lose at the click of a button—a phone call away. Some part of him wondered why his father had gone radio silent, but another part hoped he stayed that way. At least long enough to figure out if Scarlett’s plan had any chance of working. Whether or not it would work, one thing was for certain.
They had to act now.
Just as he was about to stand and wake Scarlett, the phone in his jacket pocket vibrated. Since he’d taken the jacket off the evening before and had only put it back on five minutes ago, he’d forgotten about the burner phone he’d left in the pocket. Startled by the unexpected vibration, he pulled the flip phone out of his pocket and gave a soft gasp. It was the phone he’d used to call Lincoln Hill the evening before, advising him about his epic failures during his time on the Celeste. The phone he’d vowed to destroy the moment after they’d hung up. A vow he’d forgotten to follow through on.
As he frowned at the phone, his stomach flipped, because it was the first time Linc had ever initiated contact. Gage was still frowning as he opened a text message Linc had sent the night before. The message contained only a username, a password, and a hyperlink.
Gage hesitated to click the link—the same way he would hesitate if he were on his real phone—afraid of viruses. Then it hit him that he didn’t care about that phone and he clicked the link. After a long lag, the link activated the phone’s Internet browser. Another lag as the web page loaded at a snail’s pace. When the site prompted him for username and password, he entered it.
Another lag before the link finished loading, and once it had, Gage’s heart went ice cold in his chest. He immediately recognized the colorful backdrop of Raw Moon, the mail-order-bride website Linc had asked him to look into weeks earlier, asking him to do what he could to find out if his family was connected to the website in any way—but that wasn’t what stole the breath from Gage’s lungs.
No, it was the photo of his mother—a much younger version of his mother—staring back at him from her own profile on the webpage. The profile was dated, probably pulled from a cache or archive long buried, because the stats on Celeste’s profile said she was twelve years old. The smaller photos next to the main one showcased her slim, underdeveloped body in various stages of undress, donning colorful lingerie.
Gage’s stomach fell to his feet, not just because of the nauseating truth staring him in the face, but also because of the smile on her face in the photos. It was the smile that did him in. The smile that, to that very day, he’d never fully understood. The smile that always remained pasted to her face, regardless of circumstance. The smile that appeared even more insincere and half-hearted in those photos than they had his entire childhood. Apparently, at age twelve, Celeste hadn’t yet learned to perfect artificial happiness.
Gage flew up from his chair and zoomed to the bed, taking hold of Scarlett’s shoulder and shaking her. “Scarlett, get up.”
Scarlett moaned, clearly still in the deepest depths of her red wine coma, but didn’t awaken.
The vision of Celeste and the chilling smile on her face moved Gage to shake her harder.
Scarlett squinted one eye open with a mousy groan.
“Get up, Scarlett. Now. We’re leaving.”
More lucid by the moment, Scarlett swept the back of her hand across her drooling lips, grumbling as she pushed herself up from the bed, eyes still squinted and sleepy. “Where are we going?”
Gage reared back when her hot breath hit his face. “To the ship, but for God’s sakes, brush your teeth before we go or no one’s getting seduced tonight.”
At his words, Scarlett’s blearily eyes popped open, bug-eye-big and she gasped, apparently hearing the words she’d been praying to hear. Wide awake now, she threw her legs over the edge of the bed and set her bare feet on the floor, fixing the red dress that had gotten crumpled in her sleep before stumbling toward the bathroom.
Scarlett cleaned herself up, ready to wield her powers of seduction, and met Gage downstairs. Together they left the house and climbed into his Phantom coupe, where he tore out of the driveway and blazed through the streets of Shadow Rock’s most elite neighborhood at top speed.
During the silent drive, Scarlett stared curiously at the muscle that hadn’t stopped rolling under Gage’s jaw since they’d gotten in the car. She wanted to ask him what had caused his change of heart, but some part of her was too nervous to even do that, recognizing that whatever Gage was feeling had him on the verge of explosion.
She peered out of the passenger window when Gage made a sharp right into the empty driveway of his parent’s white stone mansion. “I thought we were going to the cruise ship?”
“I need to speak to someone first. Stay here.” Gage didn’t wait for a response, throwing open the driver’s door, slamming it closed, and racing up to the front door of his parent’s home.
He used his key to unlock the door and hurried inside. It was late, and the staff had turned in for the night, making his race from the door, up the stairs, and down the hallway that led to the master bedroom quick and easy.
Once there, Gage threw open the double doors of the master bedroom, making them slam against the wall.
Celeste gasped from where she sat at the mirrored glass vanity across the room, brushing her hair in a white lace nightgown, her wide green eyes flying over her shoulder. Her straight black hair flew, coming to a fluttering stop at her waist as she snapped her head toward the doors, and she covered her heart with her hand at the sight of him, shifting in the vanity stool.
“Darling.” She laughed softly. “Good heavens, you scared me half to death—”
“Where is he?” Gage demanded.
Celeste sputtered, the smile vanishing from her face, a phenomenon she only allowed to happen when she was alone with him. “Your father? He’s out of town on business. Why? What on Earth has gotten into you?”
Gage remained in the doorway, his chest heaving, eyes filling with moisture. For several moments, he didn’t respond. He didn’t move. He couldn’t move.
“Gage…” Celeste dropped her hairbrush and stood, facing him completely. “You’re scaring me.”
Gage entered the room while sinking a hand in his pocket, coming back up with the burner phone. He flipped it open as he crossed the room to Celeste, pulling up the Raw Moon profile Linc had sent him. Coming to a stop less than a foot away from her, he showed her the screen.
The phone shook in his hand.
But that didn’t stop Celeste from recognizing the sight before her within seconds of looking at the screen. It didn’t stop every muscle in her face from collapsing, including her jaw as her mouth fell wide open. It didn’t stop her green eyes from expanding and filling with tears before she lifted them slowly back up to his.
She made a swipe for the phone.
But Gage pulled it back in the nick of time, his own eyes glowing with moisture.
“My darling,” she breathed, appearing determined to speak whatever words had caused the flash of horror zooming across her face right then, but finding it difficult. “From the bottom of my heart, I swear to you, I will never let anything happen to you, but you have to destroy that phone. Destroy that message. Destroy whoever sent it to you and pretend you never laid eyes on it.”
“What did he do to you?” A chill raced down Gage’s spine. “What the hell is going on?”
“Give it to me.” Celeste tried to grab the phone again, clenching her teeth when he pulled it out of her reach once more. “Damn it, I’m your mother, and you’ll do as I say!”
“You told me… You always told me that you and Dad met through…” Gage couldn’t even finish, his voice and eyes both floating off to a distant place as one wave of heart-churning tru
th after another hit him, realizing it had all been a lie.
Everything.
His parent’s marriage.
How they’d met.
His entire life.
His eyes bulged, moving back to Celeste. “What the hell is going on at the bottom of that ship?”
He could see the moment a cold chill went down Celeste’s spine. The same cold chill that had been bending his own spine backward since the moment he’d gotten a look at that webpage. He saw the moment she realized that he knew much more than she’d previously imagined, and for several breaths, it stunned her silent.
She recovered, managing to speak calmly even as her voice trembled. “I don’t have the faintest idea what you’re talking about.”
“You don’t have the faintest idea, Mother?”
“No.”
“No idea, at all? You have no idea why you had a profile on a mail order bride website at age twelve? One year before I was born? You have no idea that the ship bearing your name has armed guards manning every door in the hull? You have no idea that, the night Veda was kidnapped, the man who snatched her was ordered to take her to the docks where that very ship is parked? You have no idea about any of that, Mother?”
With every word he said, Celeste stepped closer, even as Gage stepped back. She spoke hurriedly, but in a whisper, as if someone who could overhear could be lurking around any corner. “Gage, if your father gets even a whiff of you snooping around in that corner of the ship—”
“He already has.”
“Then he’s proven his love for you by sparing your life once. I guarantee you, dearest son, he won’t do it twice.”
Gage exhaled, not realizing he was backing up until his back hit the wall. His shoulders collapsed, hands falling to his sides, and his fingers went limp, causing the burner phone to clatter to the floor.
Celeste gasped and bent down, taking the phone and flipping it open. With an animalistic growl he’d never heard leave her lips—that he didn’t even know her capable of—Celeste lifted her thigh into the air and slammed the phone down, ripping the two flaps apart. After snapping it in half, the spaghetti strap of her nightgown tumbling off her shoulder and revealing more of her heaving bosom, she raised her watery, shattered eyes to his. She dropped the broken pieces of the phone, letting them clatter to the marble floors, but didn’t speak further
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