Текст книги "Blow"

Автор книги: Kim Karr

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Текущая страница: 19 (всего у книги 22 страниц)

DAY 5

LOGAN

The legend of Killian “the Killer” McPherson was like a shadow over me.

Mostly it was dark and looming, but sometimes it was a blessing in disguise.

Everywhere I went, if people knew me, they moved out of my way. If I asked a question, they answered. If I needed something, they gave it to me.

Tonight wouldn’t be any different.

I was certain of that.

Still, there was a taut awareness in every muscle of my body. I felt confident. Ready to do what I had to in order to find out what the fuck was going on.

Declan was sitting in the lobby of the Seaport Hotel. He couldn’t look more out of place in the regal yet stuffy hotel that screamed aristocratic affiliations. Not that I looked like I fit in much more tonight.

“What’s going on?” I asked him, slipping into the plush beige club chair beside him.

He wiped his hands on his worn jeans. “Miles Murphy, my buddy who works security, said he’s seen someone matching Tommy’s description coming in and out of here with a redhead as little as three or four days ago.”

My brows rose in confusion. “Days or months?” I asked in clarification.

Declan’s silver hoop earrings glinted off the light of the chandeliers that flanked the room.

It made me a little jumpy.

“Days.”

Something keen to excitement whirled in my gut. “Does he know what he’s been doing here?”

Declan shrugged. “I asked if he saw anything suspicious, but he said no. He’s pulling security tapes for me to look at.”

I was impressed. “When will he have them?”

“His supervisor goes on break at one thirty. He said he’ll slip me into the security office then to take a look.”

I glanced at my watch. In sixty minutes I might finally get some answers.

Declan shifted in his chair. “So, I saw Peyton.”

“How was she?”

“She said she’s fine. She told me what happened, and there’s no doubt it was Tommy.”

I nodded in agreement. I didn’t have to ask him if he’d kept his mouth shut. I knew he had.

“She told me you’d walked her from the boutique to the coffee shop and back. Someone must have spotted you with her and then watched her.”

An unease was in the air. Or maybe it was my guilt. “Yeah, I know.”

Tension lined his face. “The flowers that you sent were nice.”

I nodded. I owed her so much more.

“You know, that night was the night I decided to get out.”

My skin prickled at the mention.

“What they did to that girl you were with, it made no sense.”

Something attacked me. Guilt. So fierce and raw and hard that I couldn’t breathe. I clutched at the fabric under my fingertips and couldn’t contain my snarl. “No, it didn’t.”

He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t have to. I saw what he was thinking in his eyes. He wanted to ask me why the fuck I would be seen on a popular Boston street with a girl after that night.

I’d been asking myself the same question, and stupidity was still my only answer. My head was so far up my ass worrying about Elle, no one else was on my radar. I couldn’t justify my mistake.

Time passed so fucking slow. For the rest of the time we sat in silence. Declan kept his eyes down, while mine scanned the area for any signs of Tommy or a drug trade operation. I saw neither.

“Hey, man, you ready?”

I jerked my head practically all the way around to find a guy in black security duds, built like a tank, rubbing his hands. He was definitely ex-military. From his haircut, to the frown on his face, to the type of boots on his feet.

Declan and I stood at the same time. “Yeah, let’s do this.”

The security guard’s eyes shifted to me and his nervousness was more than apparent. I was surprised, given his size, but maybe his worry was more about his job than me. “You didn’t tell me you were bringing someone along.”

Yes, definitely his job.

Declan cleared his throat. “Yeah, right. This is Logan McPherson. He’s the one looking for the dude I described.”

Implication—he’s Killer’s grandson.

I could tell the security guard was uneasy and I had two ways to go with this—intimidate the shit out of him or ease his fears. I wasn’t sure I could do the former and I preferred not to anyway.

It was late and the lobby was empty of visitors. I leaned over. “Show me what you got and there’s a grand in it for you.”

His shoulders straightened. “Follow me.”

We walked down a corridor, through a door marked employees only, and then down a flight of stairs. For a nice hotel, the offices were a shit hole.

Miles unlocked a door at the end of the hall and led us into an eight-by-eight room. There were a few monitors, a couple of computers, and large stacks of papers covering every inch of desk space.

“Over here,” he said. He sat in a rickety brown leather chair in the corner that creaked and punched a few buttons on the keypad in front of him. “Here—this is the footage from the last time I remember seeing him.”

On the screen, a black-and-white image just outside the entrance to the hotel presented itself. The date/time stamp informed me that this clip was taped this past Saturday at three ten A.M. My skin went a little clammy when I saw the prick. Tommy was the renegade supplier Patrick was looking for? Could it be? His limp was the first dead giveaway, followed by his short stature. Born with some disease that stunted his growth, he was always trying to make up for his physical impairments with his fists. Sure, he was tough, but that’s not what kept him alive. Everyone was afraid of what would happen if they dared touch him.

A few had over the years and it wasn’t them that suffered, it was their families—their sisters were raped, their fathers beaten, their mothers both.

I still didn’t know if it was Patrick or Tommy commissioning the warnings surrounding Elle, but I knew better than to attack Tommy in a physical way. I wasn’t afraid of what he’d do to me, but I feared what he’d do those around me. Especially Elle, if he found out about us.

Refocusing on the screen, I bit back the bile rushing up my throat. He hadn’t changed—dark hair bleached blond with roots the color of midnight, black bushy eyebrows, and beady eyes.

He was standing casually in the arrival area with a leg propped up against the limestone wall and a cigarette between his lips.

A cab pulled up and he dropped his cigarette and toed it out. A smile came across his lips as he started walking. A woman got out of the cab and he approached her. She was dressed in black, all black, but the red hair told me who she probably was.

Lizzy.

The angle of the camera only allowed me to see the back of her, though, so I couldn’t be certain. Tommy paid the cab driver and it was then that I noticed she had nothing on her—not a coat, not a purse—but she was holding something in her hand.

My mind rewound to the first night I met Elle. The perp in the bushes dressed in black with what I thought was a gun in his hand. Elle thought that the he was a she. Was she right?

“Can you pause it and zoom in on her hand?” I asked.

“Yeah, sure,” he said.

The image was blurry at best, but the metal clip and rectangular shape peeking through her fingers looked an awful lot like a garage door opener.

Everything started to make sense. That night it wasn’t Tommy or Patrick after Elle, it was her sister. And more than likely it was her sister in O’Shea’s house the following night. My mind seemed so much freer knowing Elle wasn’t on Tommy’s radar.

On the screen, the two walked into the hotel, and the image kept playing with little activity at that late hour.

“Okay, what else do you have?”

“I have some cuts from them entering the lobby, but that’s all I had time to find. I’ve seen him here quite a bit over the past months, but not her. It will take longer than a few hours for me to locate any more footage.”

“Show me the lobby.”

He hit a few keys and clicked his mouse. “This is a short clip.”

A different angle, a new camera. Tommy and the girl walking into the lobby and over to the desk. That’s all there was. A short view, five seconds at most. “Can you zoom in on her face?”

He rewound the footage and stopped when they first walked in. The image was clear. He was good. He zoomed in and I pulled my phone out and brought up the picture Elle sent me. I compared the two. It was her. No doubt about it.

“Do you know what room they’re staying in?”

“I asked the girl that worked reception that night. Since it was so late, it was easy for her to pull up the records of the encounter at the desk. Turns out he was checking out.”

Fuck!

“There’s a clip of them leaving and another of them getting into a cab. It shows nothing different from the other two. I can show you, but not now. I have to get you two out of here.”

I nodded in understanding. I didn’t want him to lose his job. “Thanks, man—that’s what I needed.” I pulled out my wallet and peeled off twenty one-hundred-dollar bills. Luckily, I had withdrawn ten thousand dollars before my grandfather sealed my access to my trust fund.

Miles was watching me with a cold sweat breaking across his forehead.

I handed it to him.

“That’s more than you promised.”

I picked up a pen and tore off a corner of one of the papers littered on the desk. I wrote my number down and my email. “The extra is for a phone call the minute you see either of them again. And if you don’t mind, email me whatever clips you can find.”

“Yeah, sure. Now, I need to get you guys out of here.”

We exited the same way we’d entered. He left us to walk down the corridor and into the lobby on our own. Exiting the hotel doors, I handed the valet my ticket.

Declan did the same.

The air was cold and the rain was coming down in sheets. I leaned back against the wall to wait.

“I want to help you with whatever you’re doing,” Declan said.

Exhausted, I turned to look at him. “You have and thanks. I can take it from here.”

He stepped closer. “Tell me what’s going on.”

I considered it for a moment. “I can’t do that.”

“I’m not afraid of him and I want to make sure what happened to Peyton doesn’t happen again—to her or to anyone else.”

It’s not that I didn’t understand where he was coming from, because I did. I just didn’t think it was the best idea to involve anyone else. “Watch over Peyton and I’ll call you if I need anything else.”

“I can help you. You know I can.”

The valet pulled up with my car. “I’ll call you after I get the videos.”

He nodded.

I slipped behind the wheel and took off. In the dark of the night, all I could see was Tommy’s face in my mind. I could hear his voice, “Watch this, McPherson.”

The level of fury building within me wasn’t going to help anything. I needed to stay focused, and waking the angry demon that lived inside me wasn’t going to help the situation.

I dug my fingers into the steering wheel as I sped back to the hotel. I knew what I had to do. Elle needed to go back to her life—without me. I closed my eyes, hating myself for the things I’d done that had put me where I was today.

But until I could take care of Tommy, she wasn’t safe with me. She might not be 100 percent safe with O’Shea, but I knew she was a hell of a lot safer with him than me.

Something felt off as I drove.

Was someone tailing me?

I took a swift turn and then another.

Looked again.

No one.

What the fuck was up with my imagination?

I had to cool it.

Concentrate.

Focus.

The lobby of the hotel was empty and I strode up to the desk, paid my bill with the cash in my pocket, and told them I’d be checking out in the morning.

When I opened the door to my suite, a chill ran through me. The terrace door was open, the curtains flapping against the wall. It was eerily quiet, and panic like I’d never experienced struck all at once.

My heart sped, my pulse raced, and a cold sweat broke out covering my forehead. “Elle!” I shouted.

No answer.

An image of Elle lying naked on the floor with an E carved into her stomach came unbidden. I ran to the bedroom. She wasn’t in bed. My gut twisted into a knot. I drew my gun and approached the slightly ajar bathroom door.

The light was warm and Elle was standing in her white shirt, just about to turn the shower on.

She was fine.

I had to say it more than once to convince myself.

Paranoia was a dangerous thing.

She was a dangerous thing.

She’d gotten under my skin, worked her way into my veins, and was now somehow making her way to my cold heart.

“Logan.” She jumped. “You scared me.”

Setting my gun on the counter, I inhaled a deep breath and rushed toward her.

She’d scared me too.

“Why are the doors open?”

She shrugged. “It was really warm in here and I wanted some air.”

Without a word, I backed her up to the counter and took her in my arms. I held her for the longest time before I pulled away. With trembling fingers, I unbuttoned her shirt and stripped it off her body. She was naked before me and so beautiful. As my eyes shifted, I could see myself in the cracked mirror over her shoulder.

I closed my eyes, unable to look. I didn’t want that constant reminder that burdened my skin to be anywhere in my thoughts.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asked.

My mouth was greedy on her neck. That sweet spot I knew she liked me to kiss was the first place I attacked. My hands roamed her body, never lingering, just needing to feel her everywhere.

Her head was thrown back and her words came out low. “Logan, did you find out anything about my sister?”

Breaking contact with her was a struggle, but I managed to lean back. “I did, but right now, I need you.” I couldn’t hold my words back. I hoped she understood.

She looked at me, and then as if she knew just how desperate I was for her, she started to unzip my pants. We moved together with the rhythm we had created and together we stripped my clothes off.

I was about to set her free, but I couldn’t suppress this need inside me to put my mouth all over her—to lick every part of her, to claim her, to mark her, to make her mine.

A noise escaped that beautiful throat of hers, something hoarse and raw, something akin to the way I was feeling—primitive.

My desire to fuck her was so fierce, I wasn’t sure my legs could hold us. Something was bursting inside my chest. Whatever it was, it was bold and unrelenting.

We were kissing and kissing and before I knew it, I had her up on the counter and her legs were wrapped around me. My cock was right where it needed to be. All I had to do was slide it inside her.

She swiveled her hips in a way that said, Fuck me, fuck me hard, and fuck me now.

I kept kissing her. Her mouth, her chin, her jaw, her throat.

My name slipped out of her lips in a sigh. “Logan.”

With my hands on each side of her face, I blinked a few times until she came into focus. When she was all I could see, what came out of my mouth was a surprise even to myself. “I want,” I said slowly, “to make love . . . to you . . . on the bed.”

The words were dry coming out of my throat and I had to swallow a few times before I could finish the sentence.

I wanted to say so much more, but for now, I settled for that.

She found my mouth again for one more kiss. “I’d like that too,” she said, a little breathless.

My arms were under her back and behind her knees. I was carrying her into the bedroom, in a gallant way, taking my time, looking down at her with each step. Her eyes met mine and I wondered if she was feeling anything close to what I was.

The look on her face when I lowered her down onto the great, big bed with the clean white sheets told me she did, and her actions reaffirmed it. She brushed the hair from my forehead and drew a line down my scar. Her touch was soft and gentle and as she pulled her fingers away, she lifted herself to kiss me there, right there, the spot that reminded me what I’d done every time I looked in the mirror.

However, when she looked at me, she didn’t see the monster I saw. Her eyes told me she saw something different, and it felt like another layer of the ice around my heart had melted.

“Make love to me,” she whispered.

I did.

We stayed in the missionary position with my body covering hers. I shivered a little with my first thrust and she did too.

I took my time. I didn’t rush things. I wanted what remained of the night to last forever. We moved together, slowly, making love over and over, until daylight flooded the room.

“Elle,” I murmured when I rolled off her.

She turned to her side to face me. She was beautiful in the morning light. I wanted to tell her what I saw when I looked at her. That even though we barely knew each other, I felt something for her I couldn’t explain. How she somehow lit me up from within. How the sound of her breathing was something I looked forward to hearing. And how her scent was one I couldn’t live without. But that wasn’t what I told her. Instead, I told her what I’d learned that night. That it was her sister the other night. That I thought it was her sister in O’Shea’s house, too. That if Lizzy was still close, so was Tommy. We talked about what her sister could have been after, but she didn’t have a clue. And finally, I told her that for her and Clementine’s sake, we needed to stay away from each other.

Gently, she stroked my hair and kissed my mouth. And then she killed me. “I know,” she said in a strained voice.

But neither of us spoke of when or how we’d do that.

In the early morning light, I pulled her close and stroked her back, softly lulling her to sleep.

When her breathing was even, I eased out of bed, tucked a few things in a duffle bag, and slipped out the door.

In the elevator, I brought up Declan’s number.

“Hello,” he answered.

“Hey man, I was wondering if you could do me a favor?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Elle is in my suite at the Four Seasons. Can you head over there and take her to the boutique? Tell her to stay at O’Shea’s house and call me if she needs me.” Although I hated the idea, I knew his house was like Fort Knox and she’d be safer there than at her place.

“Yeah, no problem. Charlene is here and can cover for me.”

“Don’t forget to make sure she knows who you are.”

“I’m not completely stupid.”

The elevator door opened. “Yeah, right. Sorry, man. I’ll leave the key at the desk in your name.”

“Okay, I’ll head over now.”

“And Declan, I’ll be at my father’s. Stop by tonight. If you’re still willing, I could use your help.”

“Sure, man. I’ll be there.”

“Grab Miles, too, if you don’t mind. I want both of you to connect with my old man.”

“Yeah, sure, no problem.”

A quick stop at the desk to leave the key and tell them I’d be back for my things and then I was walking out the door.

A sudden sadness hit me.

And I couldn’t help but hope I wasn’t walking out of Elle’s life too.

DAY 6

ELLE

I wasn’t doing well.

It had been almost two days since I’d seen Logan.

Aside from a couple of text messages, we hadn’t been in contact. One message asked me if Michael had mentioned anything about Friday. My response was what it always was: no. And the other came just before I left work. It was informative only. He still hadn’t found my sister.

I wanted to hear his voice, to talk to him, to tell him the things I was feeling. But he had left me alone yesterday morning without so much as a note or a goodbye, and although I knew it was the best way for us to part, it still stung.

My fantasies that the truths I had yet to tell him would be accepted were just that, fantasies. And the space he had put between us helped to put that in perspective.

Using my key, I let myself into Michael’s house. I had decided to take Logan’s advice and stay at Michael’s for a few days to be closer to Clementine. I wasn’t certain what could happen with Michael or Logan and wanted to be near her.

It was after nine and I knew Clementine would be asleep. With Peyton recovering and Rachel working only part-time, I was working from opening to close. I set my keys on the foyer table next to the fresh vase of flowers. Michael must have gone to see his father again today at the florist’s shop. He’d gone almost every day this week and I wondered if his father was ill.

Next to the flowers was a picture of Michael’s deceased mother. She was beautiful, posed like an old-time actress in the photo, wearing a strapless sundress and sitting on picnic table with her legs crossed in her high heels. There were pictures of her throughout the house. Oddly, there were no pictures of him and Lizzy together in the house, though.

“You’re home late.” Michael, his rumpled suit, was sitting in a chair in the family room. He had a thick stack of papers in one hand and a glass of amber-colored liquid in the other. There was a yellow legal pad on the table beside him with notes or one of his lists written on it. Soft music played and the lamp beside him shined down only to give enough light for him to see whatever it was he was reading.

We exchanged glances. I hadn’t told him anything about Logan and I. I just knew he wouldn’t be happy about it and I couldn’t jeopardize my relationship with Clementine.

“What are those?” I asked for lack of anything else to say.

“Résumés for a new nanny.”

“Why? What happened to Sarah?” I asked, shocked at this news.

He swirled his drink in his hand. “She gave me her notice today. She’ll stay until I find a replacement, at least.”

The news made me wonder—first his secretary, now the nanny. Was there something I didn’t know?

“Maybe Lizzy will come home before then.” I didn’t know why I said it. I shouldn’t have. Logan had told me not to say anything. I knew Logan suspected foul play on Michael’s part, but he didn’t know Michael like I did. Still, even though I trusted him, something inside me told me to keep my mouth shut, so I did.

He sipped his drink and looked at me with suspicion. “Have you heard from Elizabeth?”

I shook my head. “No, it’s just I’m sure she misses Clementine.”

Michael set the stack of résumés on the table beside him and stood with his glass in hand. He strode over to the bar and picked up the crystal decanter. “Can I pour you one?”

“No, thank you. It’s been a long day. I’m going to change and make something to eat and then go to bed.”

With his glass full, he turned around. “I picked you up that shaved garden salad you like and a lobster roll with fries. They’re in the fridge.”

“B&G’s,” I said with a smile.

He nodded. “I knew you’d be tired and that you probably wouldn’t have eaten.”

“Thanks, that was really nice of you,” I told him and headed upstairs.

Clementine was fast asleep and safe in her room. I stared at her for the longest time. She was an innocent caught up in a mess, but I wasn’t going to let anything happen to her, nor was I going to let anything impact her blissful state. She was too precious. I swiped at my tears and kissed her softly. “I love you so much,” I whispered.

In my room, I slipped out of my clothes and into a pair of comfortable sweatpants. When I slipped on the white, oversized button-down that smelled of Logan, I held it to my nose. His scent was fading but it was still there. I wanted to see him. To talk to him. To be with him.

I shook off the feeling.

Pulling my hair on top of my head, I made myself think of other things. I needed to head back to my place tomorrow to get some clean clothes. I needed to do inventory. I needed to review sales.

Socks on my feet, I went downstairs. The family room was empty. Maybe Michael went to bed. My stomach was growling and I headed for the kitchen. I poured a glass of orange juice and sucked it down before I poured another. Then I opened the containers. I didn’t even bother to sit down. Instead, I stood at the counter and nibbled on the lobster roll in between forkfuls of salad.

Ummm, Boston’s seafood was so delicious.

“Is it good?” Unexpectedly, Michael was behind me and even more unexpectedly, his chin was almost resting on my shoulder as he looked down at my food.

Every part of me tensed and I quickly turned around. “Yes, I was starving. Do you want some?”

Out of character, he moved closer, caging me in. With the smell of alcohol on his breath, he said, “Are you offering?”

My heart was thumping, and not in the way it did when Logan was near me. I wasn’t afraid of Michael. I knew I could take him down with a swift knee to the balls. I didn’t want to have to do that. In the confined space he’d cornered me in, I casually reached back and picked up one of the containers. “Yes, here you go. I’m stuffed.”

He stepped back and took the food.

We both knew that wasn’t what he meant, but at least he pretended it was.

“I’m exhausted. I think I’ll check on Clementine and go to bed.”

“If you don’t mind, I need to discuss something with you.”

Anxiety tightened in my chest, but somehow I managed a smile. “Sure, what is it?”

“There are a few things, actually. Mind if we go in the other room and sit down?”

Panicked, I blurted out, “Is this about Lizzy?”

His expression went blank for a moment. “No, not directly. Are you sure you haven’t seen her or heard from her?”

I straightened my shoulders, drew in a breath, and forced myself to give him a slight smile. “No, I haven’t.”

With a bob of his head, we were both walking toward the family room. He stopped at the bar and poured himself another scotch. “You sure you won’t have just one?”

Sitting down, I found myself feeling awkward. “No, I’m good.”

His liquor glass was more than halfway filled without ice and I began to wonder how much he’d had to drink tonight. Michael turned and leaned against the bar. “There’s a very likely possibility Elizabeth won’t ever return.”

“You don’t know that.”

He sipped on his drink and studied me. I felt like he knew I knew something. “No, I don’t, but I have Clementine to worry about. I need to start thinking about my will. Who will take care of her if something happens to me?”

I looked at him, feeling pricks of tears in my eyes. “Michael, what’s changed? I don’t understand why we’re talking about this now.”

Michael’s gaze remained steady. “I think I made a mistake not going to the police. I thought I could find her and keep her out of prison for what she’d done. But now I’ve exhausted all of my available avenues and we still haven’t been able to find her. The private investigator has found nothing, her cell has no activity, and her bank accounts haven’t been touched. She’s gone, Elle. Gone.”

Knowing I couldn’t blurt out, “No, she’s not. She was seen last Saturday,” I bit my tongue instead and whispered, “She still might show up.”

He shook his head and the liquor swirled in his glass. “I can’t wait any longer. I’m going to go to the police on Monday and report her missing. I should have done it a long time ago. I can’t keep shielding her from her own destructive behaviors. It’s time I start worrying about my daughter and myself, and that means legally divorcing her so I can appoint someone as Clementine’s guardian.”

Whoa.

My shock must have shown. He’d never talked about my sister like this. Like someone he didn’t even like. Like someone he didn’t have any compassion for. I was finding it hard to take in.

“Elle, I think that person should be—” He paused to look at me. “Erin.”

What?

Hurt, I had nothing to say. He knew how much I love that little girl. How much I think of her as my own. Why would he want her to live with his sister, who already has four children and her hands full?

“Of course I’ll make provisions to make certain you have visitation, should something happen to me.”

My patience wearing thin, I fired, “Why are you telling me this? Shouldn’t you be discussing it with your sister?”

His voice as calm as an unruffled breeze, he answered, “I thought you might disagree.”

Blinking at him, I couldn’t help but wonder if he was somehow looking to blackmail me in some way. I hoped it was the liquor he was consuming that was sending the wrong vibe my way. Rising to my feet, I strode closer to him. “If you’re asking me if I want to be named Clementine’s guardian, you already know I do.”

There was a darkness in his eyes I’d never seen. “That’s what I thought, Elle. Now, there’s something I need your help with.”

Even though we were alone in the house, he turned the music up, and whispered.

I listened, nodded, and after much thought, hesitantly said, “I’ll think about it and let you know tomorrow.”

With his simple request on the table, he set his glass down and headed for the stairs. When he was halfway, he turned and said, “Good night, Elle.”

Pulse racing, once I knew he was in his room I scurried up the stairs and into the room I’d been staying in. I’d slept here many nights, but for the first time since I’d arrived in Boston more than three months ago, I locked my door.

After brushing my teeth and washing my face, I got into bed and held my phone close. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I called Logan. I had to talk to him.

It only rang once. “Elle, everything okay?”

I sunk further down onto my pillow. “I needed to hear your voice.”

There was a lot of noise in the background. He was out somewhere. “Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t sound right. Did something happen?”

In a whisper, I told him, “I need to tell you something.”

“Elle, I can’t hear you,” Logan said.

I opened my mouth to speak again.

“Sorry I’m late.” It was a female voice I didn’t recognize.

“Hey, can I call you back?” Logan asked clearly into the phone. Clearly to me.

Crushed, I answered with barely audible words. “No, you don’t have to.”

“Elle.” He said my name as if it pained him.

“I shouldn’t have called,” I said louder and hung up.

I remembered wondering that first night at Molly’s if he had a girlfriend, or a girl, or someone in his life. Was that the voice I’d just heard?

Deep.

Husky.

Sexy.

Was that the real reason he’d left me alone in his hotel room?

Tears were streaming down my face.

I felt like I’d been stabbed in the chest, right through my heart.

But really, what had I expected? That he’d tell me he loved me after knowing me for only five days?

I covered my face with my hands and relived the day my mother died, the day my kidney failed her, the day I was declared unable to ever give life, the day my father declared me useless.

Somehow, amidst my sorrow, I fell asleep.

Clementine was the only joy I had in my life now. I wouldn’t lose her.

Sometime later during the night I heard my phone ring.

I didn’t answer.

He left a message that if I needed anything, I should contact Declan at Mulligan’s Cup or Frank at Molly’s.