The Final Goodbye

by Brittney Sahin

  Ben’s hand connected with his jaw before he realized he’d swung.

  Daniel stumbled back, and Ben closed the short gap between them and fisted the fabric of his shirt. He whirled his hand back and kept his knuckles hovering before the guy’s face.

  Daniel jutted out his chin as if daring Ben to punch again.

  Anger blurred Ben’s eyesight, and his arms started to shake. He wanted to kill the bastard. He wanted to ram his fist so far down his throat he’d cough blood.

  “When you’re gone, I’ll be back in her bed, and you’ll be back in her memories where you belong.”

  Ben blinked a few times, trying to find his control. But all of the years he’d spent missing Riley suffocated any sense of reasoning.

  “Do it. Hit me. Let her feel bad for me and hate you even more,” Daniel whisper-yelled.

  “I want her to be happy,” Ben said in an even tone. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” He slowly released his shirt and lowered his hand to his side. “But it won’t be with you.”

  Daniel rubbed his jaw. “You’re wrong about that.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “You look like shit.” Riley folded her arms and eyed him. If she was angry at him for the way he ended things last night, she didn’t show it. Her gaze was soft and relaxed.

  He pressed a hand inside the doorframe, his Ray-Bans lowered, meeting Riley’s eyes. “Thanks,” he grumbled.

  “Have too much to drink last night?” She lifted a brow.

  Something like that. “I want to be at your office for your appointment.”

  “My admin will be there with me. I won’t be alone.” Her almond-shaped eyes tightened.

  “And last I saw, she didn’t resemble a former UFC fighter, or appear to be packing heat. So, I think I’ll be coming along.”

  “And what about your friends at the airport?”

  Ben shifted his focus to her bottomless brown eyes. He could get lost staring at her. He used to lose focus whenever they did homework together.

  She’d be reading from a textbook or discussing how to solve chemical equations, and his mind would wander—he’d explore her heart-shaped face, from the freckles that dusted over her nose and beneath her eyes, to the slight dimple in her right cheek that appeared when she smiled.

  He’d always imagined what it’d be like to press his mouth to the soft crook of her neck and breathe in her intoxicating smell.

  Whenever she’d caught him losing focus, she’d make a funny fish face at him, which had had him laughing his ass off.

  “I had to adjust my plans when I learned you’d be alone with a potential serial killer.” He pressed his sunglasses back in place. “My parents are picking Ava and Aiden up as we speak.”

  She glanced over her shoulder at the sudden sound of clicking heels. “Let’s go before my mom comes.”

  Once in the car, he started up the engine, backed out of the driveway and began the short trip to her office.

  He lazily draped his arm over the steering wheel as he drove. “I had a run-in with both Bobby and Daniel last night. They were arguing, and I stepped in.” He lowered the country tunes in the car, a song by Florida George Line playing on the radio.

  “Jesus. Did anyone get hurt?”

  He arched his shoulders back, a tight band of pressure traveling up his spine and into his neck. Thinking about that asshole sleeping with Riley had him wanting to knock Daniel in the face again.

  “Maybe a little. I wouldn’t worry about that, though.”

  “And what should I be worried about?”

  “I have a bad feeling about your ex.” He could understand Daniel murdering Lydia to prevent Riley from finding out about an affair—crazier shit had happened. But Ralph . . .? “Why’d you say you and Daniel broke up again?”

  She pushed back into the leather seat and cast her attention out the side window. “Are we really talking about him and not Bobby, right now? Or even Jeremy for that matter?”

  “Yes,” he said quickly.

  Her shoulders sloped down. “Daniel gave me an ultimatum: move to Cleveland with him or it was over. I’m Ralph’s only family, and so I can’t . . . I mean, I couldn’t leave him.”

  “Ralph was why you said no? Did you tell Daniel that?”

  Was it possible? Was Daniel sick enough to take out any obstacles that would prevent him from being with Riley?

  “I might have mentioned that, but honestly, I just wasn’t ready to take our relationship to the next level regardless.”

  “And when you said no to moving, what happened?”

  “He apologized for the demand and turned down the job offer he’d received . . . but it was too late for me. I knew we weren’t destined to be together, and so I insisted we go our separate ways.”

  “How has he acted since the breakup?”

  “I still don’t understand what you’re getting at.”

  He parked in front of her little brick office building. A row of southern magnolia trees lined the property, capturing the spirit of the region. The trees were taller than her office, and the dry limbs with rust-colored undersides stretched out, begging for spring, so the flowers could blossom.

  Ben had a vivid memory of Riley sitting beneath a magnolia at Swayze Park when she was sixteen. He’d found her resting against the tree trunk, with her knees pressed to her chest. She’d been reading one of her mom’s romance novels. Her cheeks had bloomed red when he’d snatched it from her and read a few of the more colorful lines.

  When death had tried to steal him in the war, he used to drag up memories like that; he’d hang on to them to stay sane. Riley had kept him alive during those eight years. He only wished he’d had the nerve to reach out to her when he’d left the military to become a ballplayer.

  Then again, he’d had his reasons, hadn’t he?

  “Ben?” She reached over and removed his sunglasses.

  This wasn’t going to work, was it? He could try and push her away all he wanted, but his walls were paper thin around her.

  How had he had such resolve to hold back as a teenager? How was it that in his thirties he’d become less powerful in fighting his feelings?

  Fourteen years should have deteriorated his desire for her, not increased it.

  “I think Daniel has a motive. If he saw Ralph as hindering the progression of your relationship, maybe he killed him.”

  She clutched his Ray-Bans in her lap now, chewing on her lip in thought.

  “Maybe he really was having sex with Lydia, even while you were together. Bobby said Daniel didn’t treat her well.”

  “And you believe everything he says?” She sighed. “Band of brothers, huh?”

  “Ri, this isn’t about me.”

  “You sure about that?” She handed Ben his glasses back, and he tightened them in his hand, nearly breaking them.

  “Just think about it, okay? What if Lydia threatened to tell you about the affair, and so he decided to kill her, too?”

  “This is a stretch. He’s the first man to get me to open up since . . .”

  Daniel’s words from last night flew back into his mind, and his skin crawled at the thought of him ever going near Riley again.

  His hand settled on her thigh atop her red dress slacks. “We’ll figure this out. I’ll protect you.”

  “Yeah?” She leveled him with her gaze. “And who will protect me from you?”

  * * *

  “And you called his cell and house?”

  Riley pressed her palms to her admin’s desk. It was quarter past nine, and Jeremy was still a no-show.

  “His cell is going to voicemail, and there’s no answer on the house line,” Lonnie said and shrugged.

  Riley slowly turned around and faced Ben. “What do you think this means? Jeremy never misses an appointment.”

  “Maybe he got spooked after the police questioned him yesterday.”

  “We should check his house. Some of my patients canceled, so I’m free until lunch.” She turned her back to him on
ce again. “Transfer my calls to my cell. And, Lonnie, be safe. Lock the front door, okay?”

  Lonnie nodded. She was probably in her mid-fifties, and she seemed vaguely familiar to him, even before he’d met her yesterday. Maybe she’d been a mother to someone he’d gone to school with. The way she was eyeing him made him think she didn’t like him, though. It was the general vibe he’d been getting from most people in town since he’d returned.

  “You’ll be staying with your parents while I go to his place,” he said once they were outside.

  “No way. He’s my patient.” She halted outside the door and crossed her arms.

  “And I don’t know this guy. I’m not willing to put you in danger.”

  “It’s not up to you. I’ll go with or without you.” She held firm, and his stomach twisted at the idea of taking Riley along with him to interrogate someone. Because that’s what this would be—an interrogation. And aside from him hating the idea of Riley being caught in the crossfires if anything went south, he also knew himself.

  He knew what he was like when questioning a suspect. He could go dark. He slipped into a different persona, and it’d probably scare the hell out of her. He’d learned to do it as a Marine, and he’d kept his training with him while running his security firm.

  “Then we let my friends look into him first. I need to have my bases covered. I need to know what kind of situation I’m walking into.” And I need a sidearm.

  “And what if we don’t have time to wait?” She edged closer to him.

  “You’re not going to back down, are you?” He lifted a brow, pissed at her stubbornness, but also slightly turned on by her determination and confidence.

  She shook her head, and he tipped his chin skyward. “Fine. But give me the details about him on the way, and if I sense trouble—we’re out of there, got it?”

  “Deal.”

  They strapped into his SUV a minute later, and she rubbed her hands up and down her thighs as if a sudden nervousness had set in.

  Was he making a mistake? Was he letting his feelings for her cloud his judgment?

  “Jeremy lives with his grandfather, Franklin Stanton.”

  Shit . . . “Are you kidding?” This wasn’t what he needed right now. Please tell me Beth is—

  “Pretty sure you also dated his granddaughter, Beth,” she cut off his thoughts. “Took her virginity, right?”

  He scrubbed a palm over his prickly beard. Had Nate told her that? He’d never mentioned his sex life to Riley back then, and frankly, he’d gone out with a lot of girls to try and erase thoughts of Riley from his mind.

  It had never worked, though.

  And after all these years, it looked like it still hadn’t worked.

  “Um.” He coughed into a closed fist. “I don’t remember her having a brother.” He decided to ignore the whole virginity subject.

  He didn’t need Riley to give him the address anymore, either, so he pulled out of the parking lot.

  Everyone knew where Franklin Stanton lived. It was the only house in town that resembled a castle.

  “Beth and Jeremy are cousins,” she answered.

  “He didn’t grow up here, right? I don’t remember him.”

  “Moved here a couple of years ago and got into trouble right after.”

  “Who was it that he tried to kill?”

  “I can’t remember who. I only remember why, since we have to talk about it in our sessions.”

  “And is that something you’re not allowed to discuss because he’s your patient?” He raised a brow. “I need to know what we’re walking into—remember?” He slowed the car a little, prepared to change directions if needed.

  “No, it’s public knowledge from the trial. Some guy harassed his girlfriend at the bar, and he lost his mind.”

  “Anger issues, huh?” He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “What else do I need to know?”

  “I really can’t say—I’d get in trouble.”

  “This is me we’re talking about. I need to know, or I stop driving.”

  “He’s, uh, got a drug problem. Well, I think so, at least. He hasn’t admitted it, but he’s got all of the signs.”

  Great. “So we could be showing up to this guy’s house while he’s high and holding a gun.” He pulled off to the side of the road and faced her. “I can’t do this. I can’t bring you with me.”

  She looked out the passenger window, her body tense. “Whoever killed Ralph and Lydia—they did it in private and with a knife. If it’s Jeremy”—she faced him—“he won’t try and kill me at his own house and with you there.” Her shoulders lifted slightly as her gaze skated down his chest. “Besides, I’m pretty sure you can take him if need be.”

  If it were anyone else, he’d have said no and turned around.

  “Damn it,” he said through gritted teeth and pulled back out onto the road.

  “Beth lives with Jeremy, by the way,” she noted as they rolled up to a large black gate a few minutes later.

  He cursed under his breath at the thought of seeing Beth.

  Riley had the story wrong about her. He hadn’t taken her virginity. No, she had taken his. And he had regretted it right after. He’d even thrown up. A sick feeling of guilt had twisted his insides as if he’d betrayed the one woman he’d actually cared about.

  The window scrolled down, and he reached out to press the intercom. “Ben Logan here to see Jeremy Stanton.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “He left town yesterday afternoon.” Beth dropped back onto the massive leather sectional in the entertainment room. “He was worried the police were going to try and pin the murders on him.”

  “Yeah, pretty sure skipping out on your parole officer won’t buy you any love, either,” Ben responded.

  Riley’s lips twitched as she eyed Beth. She’d never liked her back in high school, and watching her wet her lips and pull on the strands of her bleached-blonde locks as she gaped at Ben had Riley hating her even more.

  When Nate had casually mentioned that Ben had slept with Beth, she’d become so sick that she’d had to leave school. She’d told her mom she had a stomachache and spent the next two days in her bedroom, avoiding both Ben’s and Nate’s calls. It wasn’t until Ben had shown up at her house, demanding to see that she was still alive, that she had come out of her room.

  Ben had looked different to her, too—like somehow having sex had turned him from a boy to a man.

  It had hurt her. Hell, it had nearly killed her.

  And every time Nate had mentioned Ben’s latest sleeping partner, she’d had to act like the news didn’t poke holes in her heart or deflate her lungs of oxygen.

  “Does the sheriff know Jeremy left town?” Ben stood firm with crossed arms, his eyes constantly cutting left and right—scoping out the room as if on a battlefield.

  It made her feel safe, though.

  “Of course not,” Beth sputtered and slipped her fingers beneath the tiny strap of her tank top, as if trying to be a tease. It was obvious she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her surgically enhanced breasts were jutting through the material as if ready to launch into space.

  “Where’d he go?” Riley sat next to Beth.

  Beth puckered her lips. “Jesus, I don’t know. We barely talk. The guy is crazy. He keeps to his wing of the house, and I stick to mine. He’s only good when he’s high.”

  Before Ben said anything, he reached into his jeans pocket. “Give me a sec.” He pressed the phone to his ear. He must have had it on vibrate since she hadn’t heard it ring.

  Ben strode across the room and stood in the interior of the doorway to the room, keeping his eyes on her the entire time.

  “So, you guys ever screw?” Beth whispered.

  Riley coughed. “What?”

  “Oh, come on. No one in school ever understood how the three of you were all just friends. We had bets on who you’d fuck first.” She sighed. “No one saw the whole you and Nate thing coming. Everyone’s money was on you and Ben.”<
br />
  Riley’s eyes widened, and her stomach dropped in surprise. Was this woman serious? “I . . . I don’t understand.” She made eye contact with Ben, wondering if he could hear the conversation.

  “Oh, come on. Nate was a good-looking guy, but Ben is in his own league.” She rolled her tongue over her teeth. “He dating anyone now? I’d love to see if he got better with age.” Her mouth teased into a broad grin. “I’m betting he did.”

  Riley’s stomach spasmed as she focused back on the Playmate. “I, uh—”

  “We have to go,” Ben cut her off, suddenly on approach.

  “What is it?” she asked, noting the look of worry in his eyes.

  “There’s been another murder.” A deep, weighted sigh followed.

  Riley stood, but couldn’t get herself to speak—to ask who died.

  “Our town is trending on Twitter.” He held his phone out so she could see. “The murderer has been dubbed the doctor killer. Plus, someone leaked to the press that the weapon used was a surgeon’s scalpel.”

  A doctor killing doctors? Or a doctor setting up a doctor?

  Lydia had been a doctor and Ralph . . . well, he had a Ph.D., which had technically made him a doctor.

  Please don’t say Mandy died. Fear flowed down her spine, making her limbs numb. She clutched her stomach. “Who was killed?”

  His gaze flicked over to Beth. “Can we have a minute?”

  “Uh, sure.” Her face grew serious for the first time since they’d seen her, and she finally left the room.

  Riley’s stomach rolled, and her throat started to close up. “Which doctor?”

  “Patrick Phelps. You know him?”

  Her mouth opened, but she couldn’t speak.

  “Riley?” He gripped her shoulders. “What is it?”

  Her eyes fell shut as she whispered, “My one-night stand.”

  “Your what?”

  An emptiness filled the pit of her stomach. “My mistake from a few weeks ago.”