Running wasn’t erasing it—I could still see it.
Nothing was working.
I couldn’t shake it.
The haunting image surrounded me.
It was to my left.
To my right.
In front of me.
I just ran faster.
Miles and miles seemed to pass in mere minutes, but then my legs began to burn. I didn’t care. I kept going. The knot in my gut felt more like bricks. I didn’t care. I ran faster. But no matter how fast or how far I ran, it wasn’t going to change anything. Whether I was with her or without her, she could still be in danger, and I didn’t have a big enough army to save what my gramps would call my Helen of Troy.
Gasping for breath, I finally stopped.
Fuck, what had I done?
Was she with him?
No, I knew what she’d said last night was her way of coping with what I’d done to us. But knowing that didn’t stop the ache in my chest.
With my hands gripped around the back of my neck, I looked around, hoping to latch onto anything that would stop the constant noise in my head.
I couldn’t stand being without her.
The very early dawn created a purple haze that enveloped the surrounding area like a shroud. The sky was still dark. The air was thick and moist. And I could feel sweat running down the side of my face.
Flashing lights down at the waterfront caught my attention, and something about the situation drew me closer to the chaos.
An unwanted feeling I couldn’t shed.
Long strides brought me toward it. The closer I got, the louder the sounds became. The whoop of a chopper along the riverbank, the chatter of reporters, a Channel 7 news truck. It was utter madness for the early morning dawn.
“Stay behind the tape,” the cop said, pointing his flashlight at me.
Hey, I knew that cop.
“What’s going on?” I asked him, hoping he didn’t remember me from the night he introduced me to Blanchet, the she-devil DEA agent who coerced me into helping her bring down Patrick Flannigan.
Turned out that wasn’t all she wanted. She also wanted a lead on the source of the drugs that were hitting the streets of Boston in monstrous proportions. She’d tracked Flannigan and knew he wasn’t the kingpin in Boston’s cocaine operation, but he was still vital enough to hunt down. He had his hands in many illegal things, but drugs weren’t his most lucrative venture. Numbers and prostitution were more his game. What he didn’t know was that his son had upped their involvement in the drug market, and that was why they were both behind bars right now.
Blanchet had spoken to my gramps and gotten all she needed from him. Hence, my father was still a free man. She had yet to pull him in. And my hope was she wouldn’t.
“I said, stay back.” The bite in his tone wasn’t strong enough to indicate he recognized me.
Someone behind me spoke up. “A body was found. They think it’s been in the river for a while.”
Something told me I had to edge closer. Something else told me to keep running.
I watched the cop as his rubber boots squished along the mucky riverbank and then when he was out of sight, I maneuvered myself around the mob of people to where I could better see what was going on.
My sides were cramping; my skin felt tight, my throat dry. I needed water. My vision was slightly hazy and I had to squint to see that far, and finally I did.
Oh fuck!
There it was.
A body.
A woman’s body.
My lungs were no longer burning, but still I felt myself gasping for air.
The body wasn’t just a body.
Inconspicuous in the brush, I took another step forward and heard my sneakers squish in the mud.
Fuck!
I glanced around. No one was paying any attention to me.
They were focused on the body. And now so was I. Her arms seemed bare, although her torso appeared clothed in black. Her legs were covered in what had to be streaks of mud. Her feet and legs were hidden in her leather boots. And then there was the halo of fiery red hair floating grotesquely around her limp body.
That knot that had been in my gut twisted even more.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
Maybe, just maybe it wasn’t her.
The body was facedown and splayed among the underbrush of the slimy riverbank, so really, it could be anyone.
Suddenly, a spotlight shined down, and that’s when I saw the glint. An icy chill swept through my blood, because right then I knew for certain who it was.
In her hand, tangled between her fingers, was a red ribbon with a large silver rattle beside her. The object was Clementine’s Rosie.
And the dead woman was Lizzy O’Shea, Elle’s missing sister.
My stomach lurched. The only time I had seen that rattle before was in the hands of Michael O’Shea, back at the garage where Elle’s car had been towed.
The man who Elle was with last night. The very same man she was entangled with in a way that there was nothing I could do to untangle her.
What if all of this shit wasn’t just about Tommy?
Maybe there was a bigger picture.
That had to be it.
Like a lightning strike, I knew I had to be with her.
That being apart didn’t mean shit anymore.
There was so much more to all of this.
The stakes just got higher.
Tommy Flannigan was no longer the only man I had to protect Elle from.
My mind was reeling.
I had to come up with an even bigger and better plan.
I had to build my own army.
I had to be with her.
Fear took a backseat.
Strength puffed up my chest.
Determination racked my brain.
I knew what I had to do to keep her safe.
First, go and get her, begging on my knees if I had to, and then . . .
Crush Tommy and figure out what O’Shea was really up to.
No matter what.
ELLE
Nine very unsettling minutes with him and my world was more upside down than ever.
Would it ever be right again?
This morning I just didn’t think it would.
The spring drizzle trickled down the outside of my bedroom window and I found myself sitting in a chair and staring out at it. It was already dawn and I hadn’t slept much.
I couldn’t stop thinking about him.
How could I have been so cruel?
I hated what I’d said.
I’d made a huge mistake.
I should have put the same trust in him I wanted in return. I had been wrong in pushing him away—in thinking that my emotional health would be too uneven with us in a state of limbo, and that I wouldn’t be able to navigate my life reasonably. The truth was, without him I was in a state of complete instability anyway. I was uneven. I was unhappy. And I didn’t think it would ever go away.
Oh God. I needed to apologize. I wanted to talk to him so much I couldn’t stand it. But how could I fix anything between us now? I’d said the most horrible things to him last night.
Tears clouded my sight and I pressed the heels of my palms to my eyes. When the sobbing subsided, I wrapped my arms around my body in a sad attempt to comfort myself.
Drop after drop I watched the water until I couldn’t anymore. Finally, I closed the blinds and then padded over to my bed and tried to make myself go back to sleep.
I was just tired.
So tired.
My phone was beside me and I thought about calling him. But would he answer? And if he didn’t, would I feel worse? If he did, would talking change anything? No. No it wouldn’t. How could it be that my life felt so empty without him in it? I tried reminding myself it was no fuller before I met Logan but that didn’t help. The difference was—there was a hole in my heart that wasn’t there before. And it hurt. It hurt so damn much.