“Oh, crap.” Izzy placed her empty glass down on the counter. “Dad, do you need me to go? I know how to swing a wrench. You taught me yourself.”
“Nah, I got it, Izzy Bear. Stay here with Chloe. I’m sure you two have something big to discuss anyway. Right, Chlo?”
“Theo! Seriously!” Chloe shouted, shooting her hands out. “It’s too soon!”
“Too soon for what?” Izzy questioned.
Chloe glanced at her and then snapped her gaze on me. I shrugged and smirked, walking in her direction and placing a swift kiss on her lips. “I’ll be right back. I’m sure you can handle it. You’re better at these talks anyway, I’m sure.”
Her cheeks flamed red. She tried scowling at me, but it was damn near impossible for her. She was excited to tell Izzy about the baby, too. She’d talked about it during most of the ride back, wondering if it would be a boy or girl. Hoping he or she was healthy. So instead, she broke out in a grin and grabbed Izzy’s hand.
“Fine. Go. But be careful!” she called as I started for the door again.
“I will. I love you . . . both!” I shouted right before shutting it behind me.
I jumped on Ol’ Charlie, clipping my helmet and then opening the garage gate.
Fortunately, the docks weren’t too far away from our home. Ten minutes and I could make it. Dane had a nephew who was a security guard of the docks at night and I’d hoped he would take care of it, but Dane only called with emergencies. Apparently whoever this shit was, wasn’t letting up, and his nephew hadn’t clocked in just yet.
I could see the docks from a few miles away, just over the cliff. I revved the bike and rode faster, chasing asphalt. I should have known something was wrong then, but with the victory of that day, it seemed luck was on my side. I felt invincible, like nothing could stop me now.
I gripped the handlebars even tighter, hearing a car behind me. It came closer and closer, the headlights zeroing in. The car kept coming faster and I glanced over my shoulder, gesturing for him to just drive around. There was no way in hell I was about to speed up on Ol’ Charlie on this winding road with jagged edges that led straight to the ocean.
I had a woman to get back to. My daughter.
The car came even closer and then it hit my bike’s rear. “What the fuck!” I jerked the handles when I lost control. Before I could pull over, stop the bike, and curse the fucker out, the car rammed me from the back again, but this time it held its place, forcing me forward.
I could hear the car’s engine purring, the tires skidding, and then I was being forced to the right. Too close to the edge of the cliff. There were no guardrails on this section.
Nothing to prevent the fall.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” I shouted at the car. My exhaust pipe was caught in the car’s grill. I revved my bike, pulling the levers, but it only made the tires skid.
The headlights of the car were damn near blinding me. I stomped one foot on the ground to try and get some balance, but it didn’t help. One foot wasn’t strong enough.
“Stop!” I had to get off this bike.
But it was too late. One final press of that gas pedal and Ol’ Charlie was falling over the edge of the cliff. I was falling over the edge of the cliff, yards away from the bottom.
Falling.
Falling.
Jagged rocks pierced my skin as I dropped, feeling bones snapping—my body being flung around and down the cliff like I was a fucking ragdoll. I could hear metal crashing and scraping, smashing into the rock.
My bike.
Before I knew it, my tumbling came to a cease. I couldn’t feel a thing. Every single part of my body was numb.
I moved my head to the right and saw shattered light—Ol’ Charlie’s headlight. I could see the moon. I smelled salt—the ocean—but only for a second.
Because when that next second struck, I couldn’t breathe. I felt suffocated by liquid. Hot, burning copper. Blood.
And that’s when I saw blackness.
It was pitch black.
My heart stopped beating.
And I . . . I couldn’t . . . breathe . . .
Chapter Forty-Four
CHLOE
I should have told him.
Before he left, I should have told him then about Sterling. Because I had a bad, bad feeling. A feeling that sat like a pound of bricks in the pit of my belly. I just didn’t think it would be this bad.
And now—now my Theo was on an operating table for surgery.
He wasn’t breathing on his own.
He looked battered and bruised and . . . and dead.
The police had called Izzy over thirty minutes ago, unable to reach Sheila, and I could have sworn this was so familiar. Rushing to the hospital with Izzy during the night because one of her parents had been hurt—on purpose. The cops said it looked like an accident, like Theo had driven off the cliff himself with a car in front of him, but he would have never done that. Ever.
And I knew.
I knew. I had no proof, but deep down in my gut, I knew Sterling had something to do with this. After they’d explained it to us—that a car may have been behind him or in front of him by the tire skid marks—I figured it was Sterling. Theo didn’t veer off the road. He wasn’t drunk or high or out of his mind. He was forced off the edge of that cliff.
There were skid marks, two different tracks of tires, one of them belonging to his motorcycle. This was no accident. The cops tried to say the car may have come over to try and help.
It was bullshit. Where was that car now? Who gave the anonymous call to the police? Why didn’t the person want to say who they were?
Because it was fucking Sterling.
He wanted me to find out.
The doctors were pumping Theo’s chest, and my tears thickened. I didn’t know what words I was shouting behind that door. I just wanted to be there for him. I wanted to talk to him. Let him hear my voice. Let him know that I was there.
Blood was everywhere, the machines beeping wildly. The nurses were keeping Izzy and me behind the door, trying to get us down the hallway. We didn’t want to go anywhere.
“His heart rate is declining. Get them away from the door!” the doctor hollered.
Izzy shouted at one of the nurses that tried to grab her, hissing that it was her father and she needed to be there. After hearing what the surgeon shouted, I could no longer fight as they hauled us away from the door. Of course Izzy put up a fight and I didn’t blame her.
But I had something to do.
Something to handle.
He was not getting away with this shit. I had no proof. I didn’t know what the hell I was going to do, but I would find something—anything to show that he had always hated Theo.
“Izzy! Izzy, come on,” I said, taking her from the nurse and bringing her to the waiting area. She was shaking as I sat her down in the far corner and rubbed her arm. “I—I have something to do really quick but I’ll be right back.”
“What?” she asked, her eyes growing wide and desperate. “No! Where are you going, Chloe? I need you here!”
“It will be quick. I promise.”
I stood up and rushed for the exit. She called after me, but I didn’t stop or look back. I pulled out my car keys and drove away from the hospital in haste. I didn’t slow down until I reached my destination.
Hopping out of the car, I hurried towards the door and barged right in. The unfamiliar faces turned my way, all of them staring like I was carrying a ticking bomb.
And then the woman at the front desk said something, clearing her throat. “Can I help you?” she called out with her nose in the air, suspicious.
“Yes,” I breathed, meeting up to the counter and dropping my gaze to her badge. “I—I need to talk to someone about an attempted murder.”
I spent that entire night in the police station, biting my nails, calling Izzy every ten minutes for an update. No update. No one had even come to check in with her. She said she saw the nurses rushing in and out,
but that it didn’t look good.
The detective didn’t want to believe me at first. He thought I was making it all up, but then I told him the details—how I’d broken it off with him to be with the man that was in the hospital. How Sterling was sitting in the kitchen in the dark, angry with Theo and me, and claiming that he’d stolen me from him.
He was a jealous, disgusting fuck.
The detective gave me a few eye rolls. His name was Detective Wallace. “I’ve been told by the investigation team that it looked like an accident, Miss Knight. You don’t think that by chance he might have just, I don’t know, got impatient, lost control, and ended up riding off that cliff? It is a dangerous road, especially at night.”
“No!” I slammed a fist on the desk and he cocked a bushy brow, unfazed. “I’m telling you the truth. Theo has been riding his bike for years. He’s never even gotten a scratch on the damn thing. He’s ridden that road many times before to get to his boat, sometimes with me on it. I—I know him. And I also know the man that did this. He gets jealous and his anger blinds him. Can you—can you just look him up? Please? I’m sure you’ll find his name in the system somewhere. He was apart of a gang once. He has to have some kind of criminal record.”
“Once? When?” he asked, mildly interested now.
“It was years ago, but he used to date Theo’s dead wife too.”
The detective looked at me as if I’d lost my damn mind.
“Look—I know it all sounds crazy now but just look him up. See if you can find something—anything to put him under arrest for so you can question him.”
Sighing, the detective grabbed the mouse. “His name?”
“Sterling Martinez.”
He grunted as he typed, then shifted in his chair, placing his glasses on the bridge of his nose. He did a few clicks here and there. My knee bounced as he scrolled, and when he found what he was looking for, his eyes grew as wide as discs.
“Holy shit. This man is a felon? Well, why the hell didn’t you say he’d been convicted of a felony before?”
I blinked rapidly. “I didn’t know. W-what did he do?”
“Says here he was pinned for conspiring. Was almost locked up for second-degree murder. For a woman named . . . Janet Black?”
My jaw dropped. “Oh my God.”
“Looks like he had a good lawyer that got the case dropped for him since it was his first offense. He only did two years of probation because it was proved he was a member of the gang. The three men that were caught fingered him for claims of setting up the murder, but they had no proof, which is probably the only reason he was let off the hook. Goddamn it,” he grumbled, pushing out of his chair. “Just when I thought this night wouldn’t consist of anymore paperwork.” He walked to the door and yanked it open, called for someone, and then walked around the desk to pick up his badge and gun.
“If you’re right, he’s probably still around. Waiting to see if your man lives or dies. Do you know where he might be right now?”
“Um . . . at the house we used to share maybe,” I responded. “3618 Merrill Street. If not there, he’s going back to Orange County to his mother’s apartment.” Another detective appeared at the door with a folder in hand, watching as Detective Wallace clipped his gun to his belt.
“All right. Detective Johnson here will keep you company while I make a quick run—ask some questions. I can’t assume he’s done anything, Miss Knight. But I can check since he has a record of this kind of behavior. Maybe he has the car there. Maybe he doesn’t. If he does, he’s probably trying to clean it as we speak. I’ll send out a few units to search the town just in case he’s not there and might be on the run.”
I nodded and Detective Wallace took off in a flash. It was the fastest I’d seen him move since he had introduced himself to me.
No matter. I would sit there all night and wait—give them whatever information they needed, just so long as they caught the bastard. He was dead to me.
He wanted to take Theo away from me. His hatred was pure. And knowing that . . . that he could have been apart of Janet’s murder—that he may have planned that “gang related” killing—makes me wonder how the hell I lived with a monster like him and didn’t realize it.
Did Theo even know? He knew Janet was murdered, but did he know who it was by? They never showed Sterling’s face in any files. If his case was dropped, and he was given no sentence, it was meaningless for the media. It was an assumption, but it was most likely true.
I should have seen the signs.
The way he watched me.
The way he spoke to me when he was agitated.
How he grabbed me the last time I saw him and looked at me like he wanted to end me right there for trying to walk away. He would have been a fool to try at that moment, considering he was the only other person to have access to the house. But I was sure that if it came down to it—if I had made him angry enough, then he probably would have tried to kill me too.
Chapter Forty-Five
CHLOE
24 Hours Later
I never thought I would see him like this.
Lying there. Damaged. I felt hopeless and doomed.
We’d just turned our dreams into reality, and in a flash it felt like it had all been snatched right away from me. He wasn’t moving. He was having a hard time breathing. It’d only been twenty-four hours, but I missed his voice.
His touch.
I missed him. Period.
I was so livid last night that I erased every single picture I had of Sterling. Every trace of him was gone, from the photos to his number and even the text messages and voicemails. I hated him. I wanted him dead, but they had no proof.
I saw him when they brought him in for questioning. He wasn’t cuffed and somehow his eyes found mine. I grimaced at him, wanting so badly to charge out of my chair and spit in his face. I wanted to even more when he put on the faintest grin and winked at me.
He was a bastard. A cruel, heartless bastard. After that encounter, I had no doubt that he had done this to Theo.
“Theo,” I whispered.
No response.
Nothing.
I squeezed his hand, wanting to feel him squeeze back. I only wanted a little reassurance—something to let me know he was there.
“Ol’ Charlie shouldn’t have gone out like that, huh?” I said, laughing a little. “I’m going to miss him. I know you will, too.” My smile faded just as quickly as it appeared, just remembering how long Ol’ Charlie had been around. It was a good bike. A durable one that never let us down. Ol’ Charlie was a lot like Theo, and I’d lost Ol’ Charlie already. That bike couldn’t be salvaged.
Damn it. I couldn’t lose both.
The door opened before I could shed too many tears. When I looked back, Izzy was walking in with two cups in hand.
“It’s hot chocolate,” she said, handing one of them to me.
I set it down, sighing. “Thanks.”
“You have to get something in your system, Chloe. You’re carrying a baby now. I know hot chocolate isn’t the best choice, but maybe some orange juice—something? They have muffins, cakes, donuts—lots of stuff.” She was pleading now, begging me to eat or drink something. But how could I? Looking at him this way constantly made me lose all sense of appetite.
I felt the tears collecting on my eyelashes as I focused on my lap. “I thought it would get easier for him. Not worse.” Here I was thinking Sheila was going to be the biggest threat but I was so, so wrong.
Izzy rubbed my back. “I know. But he’ll pull through. He’s a fighter. Always has been. It’s something I’ve admired about him since I was a little girl.”
It was hard to swallow then. “I feel like he wouldn’t even be in this situation if it weren’t for me. Like if he were still in San Francisco with Sheila, he would be fine, you know? Safe . . .”
“Oh, please, Chloe. Cut that shit out!” Izzy snapped, placing her coffee down. She grabbed a chair and dragged it beside mine. “Sheila doesn�
�t deserve him. You guys fought for this, right? You won.” She gestured towards her father. “I know you can’t see the bright side of things right now, but give it a few days. He’ll pull through. I know it. He’s in there.” She gave him a sideways glance and I wasn’t so sure if she was trying to convince me or herself. “He’s not leaving us,” she murmured with a shaky voice. She rubbed his arm, but I caught the way her fingers trembled. “He can’t leave us. He’s all we have left.”
The following morning, still nothing from Theo.
But we did have two visitors. The first was Theo’s mother.
She couldn’t even make it into the room without crying. Her eyes were filled with so much grief. So much pain. I understood how she felt. Izzy was sitting on the sofa when she walked in, and as soon as she saw her grandmother, she hopped out of her seat and rushed for her.
“Oh—Grammy!” Izzy sobbed into her grandmother’s chest. Rita. That was her name. I could remember it when she showed me the house. The realtor. A beautiful woman with eyes just as brown as Theo’s, but much gentler, eyelashes thickened with mascara.
“Oh, it’s okay, sweet girl,” Rita cooed to Izzy. “I’m here, baby. I’m here.” They held each other, and moments later, Rita picked up her head and caught my eye. “Oh,” she sighed. “You come here, too!”
I forced a small smile, pushing slowly out of my seat as she extended her right arm, still holding Izzy with her left. It was nice not to be judged. I figured she knew who I was and why I was here. Theo had told her about me many times. I’d even met her once, before she sold me my home, when I was younger and Izzy and I were still the best of friends.
And though she knew I was the girl—the young girl—sleeping with her only son, she held no judgment. She only provided love. And something about that really made the crack in my chest grow an inch wider.
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