The Distraction Page 32

  He wanted to believe this. I saw it in his rapidly blinking eyes. But he struggled.

  “You’ll regret this,” I said. “You think it will make it right, but it won’t.”

  “You’re probably right.”

  An idea sparked in my mind. I lifted my gaze to Reznik, my hate for what they’d done to Amy, Paisley, all of us, blending with my fear and my shame. He scratched his goatee, as if he was ready for this to be over.

  “I will pay you twice whatever William MacAfee’s paying you if you stop this. Let us all walk free.”

  He smiled.

  “A little late in the game for that, isn’t it, Ms. Rossi?”

  I leaned forward, away from the cold ledge.

  “I don’t know how much he’s paying you, but I promise you, I can get more.”

  William scoffed. “She’s a masseuse. She barely makes enough to cover rent on a tiny apartment.”

  Reznik’s hand lowered. “How’s that?”

  “Alec,” I said. “He’s about to be worth over a billion dollars.”

  Alec jerked. “She’s right.”

  “If he told you that, he lied. He’s worth nothing.”

  “Not yet,” I said. “But a lawyer contacted him. He’s a shareholder, and if he wins the trial and Maxim Stein is convicted of fraud, Alec will own Force Enterprises.”

  Which would probably be worth nothing at that point, but I wasn’t about to say that.

  “He’s going to win,” I assured him.

  Reznik considered this, or at least he seemed to. A second later his face went blank again, and he started to laugh.

  William gave a shaky sigh.

  “It won’t hurt,” he said, grabbing me around the waist and hoisting me up. My fingers clawed the ledge. My heels hooked around concrete lip. In the struggle, I leaned back, and nearly toppled over.

  The fear froze me.

  Close your eyes. Alec’s words echoed in my head.

  I looked at him one last time. At his beautiful face. I could still feel the scruff on his jaw against my cheeks and his lips brushing mine. I could still feel the way his strong body held firm, and then finally yielded when we came together. He was inside of me, and I would hold him there until I took my last breath.

  I closed my eyes.

  The shot echoed through my body, but though I braced for the pain it never came. William’s grip on me loosened, and then slid away.

  He fell to the ground, a bright rose of blood blossoming in the center of his chest. His green eyes turned up, desperation turning to panic, while behind him, Reznik lowered his gun.

  I could hear nothing but the rushing in my ears. See nothing but William—Trevor—grabbing at his chest as if he could scrape the bullet away with his fingers.

  I crumbled to the ground.

  Before I could sense if he was still breathing, two more shots came.

  I screamed. Ten feet away, standing over Alec, Reznik toppled forward, landing facedown on the asphalt.

  “Tampa PD!” boomed a male voice. “Hands where I can see them!”

  Though the voice sounded vaguely familiar, I couldn’t focus on it. My gaze was pinned to Alec, now rising back to his knees. Though his eyes raced over my body, he didn’t move in my direction, nor did I go to him. I couldn’t. It felt like I was watching him through a wall of glass.

  “Anna? You all right?”

  From around the remaining van, a young, dark-haired man in jeans and a black polo appeared. My breath came in one hard whoosh when I recognized Marcos behind the barrel of his still raised gun.

  “Yes.” There was hardly any volume to my voice now.

  “Are you injured?” he called, making his way first to Reznik. There didn’t appear to be any other cops with him, and he wasn’t in uniform. My head must have still been a little fuzzy; this didn’t make sense.

  “I’m . . . I’m okay.” The back of my head pressed against the concrete barrier behind me. Three feet away, William groaned, his chest rising and falling with fast, shallow breaths.

  Marcos knelt down to check Reznik’s pulse, giving Alec a quick nod. “Emergency services are on their way.”

  “Is he . . .”

  “No. He’s gone.” He moved closer, eyes flashing over me quickly as he pressed his fingers to William’s pulse. “This one’s still kicking though.”

  It shouldn’t have comforted me, but it did. As awful as this night had been, I didn’t want William dead, especially because of something I’d done.

  “How did you know we were here?”

  Marcos wadded up the front of William’s shirt, and pressed it against the wound.

  “The burner phone.”

  I felt it against my thigh, tucked in the lower side pocket of the cargo pants. I’d completely forgotten about it once Agent Tenner had been dragged from the car.

  “I told you I’d check in on you,” he said. “Thought it was a little strange you went to hang out on a closed bridge so late at night.” He paused, and turned his head, then looked back to William, below him. “Hear that, man? That’s lady luck heading your way. Which is a lot more than you fucking deserve.”

  Did Marcos just swear? I had clearly been transported to some alternate reality. None of this made any sense.

  I heard what he had then—sirens blaring from the shoreline. When I looked down the ramp I saw the flashing blue lights. I was surprised at how close they were; the wind must have blocked the sound.

  “Amy,” I said, chest clutching. “She was in the van with one of Reznik’s men.”

  “She’s in my car,” he said. “The driver’s in custody.”

  His words renewed my strength, and in a surge I pushed myself back up the wall. My arms were complete pins and needles now, but I preferred that to the complete numbness of my hands.

  “How long you been like that?” Marcos asked, nodding to my arms.

  “Too long. I think Reznik has the keys. Front pocket.”

  He grabbed Trevor’s hand and pressed it over the wad of fabric on his chest. “Hold this. I’ll be right back.”

  Before Trevor could muster an answer, Marcos sprinted to where Reznik lay. He found the keys without trouble and hurried back. In moments, my arms were free, but they felt as heavy as lead. I stood before Alec, rubbing my wrists and trying to flex my hands from the perma-claws they’d become while Marcos worked on the lock.

  He kept staring at me with that same, guarded look I couldn’t read. I told myself it was the stress. He’d nearly seen me die right before his eyes. He probably assumed he was responsible.

  It was more than that, though. I felt it all the way to my bones.

  The cop cars flew up the bridge. One after another, followed by an ambulance. They reminded me, like they always did, of my father.

  I couldn’t help but wonder what he’d think if he saw me here right now.

  When Alec’s hands were free, Marcos returned to William to continue providing first aid. Chaos roared around us—shouting policemen, wailing sirens, medics checking us both. But we never moved closer.

  “I have to see Amy,” I said when he finally opened his mouth to speak.

  I didn’t look back. I walked down the bridge, dodging past anyone in my way. Two more police cars were at the bottom with their lights flashing, parked beside the gray utility van. A woman with blond hair sat in the open passenger side of one, while an officer stood beside her, just outside.

  I ran then, as fast as my legs could take me, until I reached Amy. I tackled her in the front seat, bruising us both in a dozen places from the impact.

  “I’m sorry,” I sobbed. “I’m so sorry. Where’s Paisley? Does Mike have her?”

  “Yes,” she answered quietly. “He took his mom and the girls to his house. I just spoke with her. She’s okay.”

  I backed away, hold
ing her hands in mine.

  “Are you?”

  She smiled wanly. “Talk about bad taste in men, huh?”

  “Amy.”

  “I was doing a pretty good job kicking his ass before he gagged me.” Whatever humor was in her voice deflated. “He came into my house. He saw my little girl.”

  I collapsed outside the car, and pressed my forehead against her knees. I thought of the scratches on the side of William’s face, and what she must have been through tonight.

  “It’s over now,” I said.

  It had to be. It was one thing to threaten me. It was another thing entirely to hurt the people I loved most.

  She stood, and pulled me up, and we hugged for a long time, until she finally stepped back.

  I followed her gaze to where Alec stood, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

  “I’m going to get Paisley,” she said.

  “Wait,” I told her.

  I walked to Alec, growing colder and colder with each step. By the time I reached him I was trembling. He must have seen it, there was no way not to.

  “Are you okay?” He didn’t reach for me. Didn’t try to hold me. If he had, maybe things would have been different.

  I nodded. “You?”

  He stared at me.

  “Amy? Paisley?”

  “They’re fine.”

  Silence. Infinite silence. Black hole in space silence.

  “I’d follow you anywhere,” I said. “Willingly. Blindly, if I had to. But they didn’t sign up for this.”

  He nodded.

  My heart betrayed me. It ached so hard I could barely keep on my feet. I loved him like I had never loved anyone. Like I would never love anyone again. But something had been broken tonight that couldn’t be fixed. I couldn’t keep being the object people used to hurt Alec. Even if I could stand the pain, I couldn’t handle how much it hurt him.

  But more than that, I had promised myself I would never let Amy and Paisley be victimized again, and here I was, leading them straight into danger.

  “I can’t do this anymore.” My voice was steady, but my insides were rattling. I wrapped my arms around my chest.

  His eyes, once filled with such tenderness, went dark.

  He didn’t even fight.

  He didn’t fight for me.

  He didn’t fight for us.

  “I know.”

  Those were the last words he said to me.

  Epilogue

  Two weeks passed. Enough time for the dust to settle from the night on the bridge and for me to start to pick up the pieces of my life. Reznik was dead. The guy I’d once known as Trevor had been moved to a secure facility for medical treatment. Amy and Paisley had started therapy—a referral Marcos had given them after what had happened. So far they seemed to like it.

  Without the imminent threat posed by William MacAfee, I had no reason not to go back to work. Derrick begrudgingly took me back yet again, making more than one comment about how high maintenance an employee I was. I made up for it working overtime, every day, until my hands were so sore I could barely make fists.

  It was better than going back to my apartment alone.

  I didn’t see Thomas, but I thought of him often. Mike called to check on me every few days. He told me that Alec wasn’t being held in witness protection anymore, but that the FBI was still running him ragged in preparation for the trial.

  He didn’t mention his name again.

  And in every free moment I did what I could for Amy. I cooked, cleaned, even got their groceries so that they could focus on what they needed to: each other.

  But I thought of Alec constantly. I dreamed of him every night. When my mom had died, I woke up for months having forgotten that she was gone. Life went back to normal; I felt okay. And then reality would come crashing down, just as hard as it had that first day without her. It was sort of like that with Alec.

  Except life didn’t go back to normal. I didn’t stop wondering where he was or if he was safe or what he was eating for lunch. The memories of his mouth on my neck, and his hand on my stomach, and his knees behind mine when we slept didn’t fade away. In my worst moments I grieved for him, in my best, I yearned for him. But I never sought him out, nor did he come to me.

  And then one night I came home from work, and all the things I’d brought to his apartment were stacked outside my door. The pictures I’d hung on the walls, the pots and pans, placed neatly in boxes. Even the goddamn spice rack.

  That was when I really knew it was over.

  * * *

  “Best tacos ever,” Jacob announced as he pushed back his empty plate. It was our second meeting since his new foster placement with his sister, and he’d made a special request for the Taco Bus.

  “Agreed,” I told him, though I’d hardly touched mine.

  “So how’s everything going?” He looked smug, even with the salsa smeared across his cheek. He’d put on some much-needed weight, even in the last two weeks, and his eyes weren’t as untrusting as they’d been before.

  I chuckled. “You my advocate now?”

  “How are your grades?” he continued, doing his best adult voice impression. “Are you eating your vegetables? How do you like your new house?”

  I laughed harder. This was the real Jacob; the kid who acted like a kid. He was a goofball when he wasn’t worried about protecting his sister.

  “My grades are excellent,” I told him. “I eat only broccoli and Brussels sprouts, and my apartment is . . .”

  Lonely.

  “Great,” I lied.

  “You’re gross,” he said, making a face. “Lucia made us Brussels sprouts one night. They’re like alien heads.”

  “That’s why I love them.”

  Now it was his turn to laugh.

  “Serious question,” I said. “Are you happy now with your sister?”

  He nodded, his face turning serious. “It’s my job to take care of her.”

  Trevor—because I preferred to think of him as Trevor, not as William MacAfee—flashed across my mind. Jacob had already gone to extremes to protect his sister. I hoped he never felt the pull to do something as drastic as Trevor had.

  “You kind of manipulated us to get what you wanted, do you know what that means?”

  Jacob stared down at his lap.

  “Yeah.”

  “You could have gotten hurt, you know. She could have gotten hurt.”

  He chewed on the corner of his lip.

  “But we weren’t, and now we live in the same house.”

  It was hard to reason with that.

  He looked up at me, brown eyes bright with curiosity.

  “Who takes care of you?”

  I shifted in my seat.

  “I take care of myself.”

  “Yeah, but isn’t there somebody else? I’ve got Sissy. Who’s got you?”

  Now it was my turn to look away. I wasn’t seeing Trevor anymore, but a man who could level me with his eyes and make me feel safe even as the world as I knew it was crumbling to pieces.

  But he was gone now.

  “You don’t need to worry about me.”

  “But someone does, I bet,” he said.

  His statement hung between us, without an answer.

  “Can I have more tacos?” he finally asked.

  My fingers slowly unclamped from the hem of my shirt, hidden beneath the table.

  “Of course you can,” I said.

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