Chapter 18 #3
Inside, we stand at a glass display case. On top, there’s a velvet cushion full of blindingly bright diamonds, but I don’t hear what the salesman’s saying about them.
“Give us a minute,” Sasha says.
“Of course,” the man in the navy suit says, slipping behind the counter and melting into the background.
“What about just bands? We can elope,” I say.
“Is that what you want to do?” he asks.
I shrug. “I’m overwhelmed,” I whisper. “I can’t stop thinking about working on the show. And getting a chance to start a business. Why don’t you pick out the ring? I’m sure I’ll like whatever you choose.”
After a few moments of silence, I shift uncomfortably. Does he think I’m not excited about marrying him? Have I hurt him accidentally?
“What about one that’s not white?” he asks.
“Not white?” I echo, confused.
He takes me to a display and points at an icy dark blue solitaire with a band of white diamonds.
“Beautiful.”
“That seems like you.”
“It does. It’s a dark sapphire?” I ask.
The salesman comes over. “No, it’s a blue diamond. Extremely rare.” He takes it from the case and slides it on my finger. The band is too big, but the stone is perfect. It sparkles with a mysterious aura.
“Stunning,” the man says. “It suits you.”
“Yes, I like this one.”
“I’ll take that,” Sasha says.
“Excellent. And the plan is for us to size it now?” the salesman asks.
“Yes. Not a problem, right?”
“No, Calvin, our head jeweler’s here and ready. Let me measure her finger.”
It’s all done so quickly. We wait on an antique sofa in the center of showroom.
I shake my head at the offer of champagne and strawberries.
Instead, I wait until the salesman’s back behind the counter, then I inch closer to Sasha and lean against him.
His big arm moves from the back of the sofa to rest along my side, swallowing me up and curling me into him.
When they bring the ring in a lovely box, Sasha unwraps it and puts the box in his pocket. He slides the ring on my finger, checks its fit, and then nods.
He shakes the salesman’s hand.
“We’re delighted we had the perfect ring. And congratulations!” he says to us.
“Thanks,” I say, smiling back.
Then we’re back outside. Inside the Rover, he puts on music and tells me I can change the station if I want. I don’t, listening to the rap that the guys must listen to when they drive around together.
“You hungry?” he asks.
“No, but we should stop if you are.”
“Later,” he says, looking at my hand. “One more errand, then I’ll take you back to the castle and you can hang around with Zoe and do whatever you want.”
“I’m not in a rush. Can I tell you my ideas for the new musical?”
“Of course,” he murmurs.
I laugh softly, thinking we’re both acting a little stunned and distracted.
“What?” he asks.
“You and me. I think we’re both a little shocked, right? Our getting together? Now a ring? A house? It’s a lot in a short time. Hard to process it all, huh?”
“Nah, the timing feels right to me. I was meaning to get around to that kidnapping thing for a long time. Should’ve done it sooner.”
I laugh, and the corner of his mouth curves up.
ANVIL
I look at the ring on her hand half a dozen times on the drive back. Reality doesn’t feel real yet, but we’ll get there.
The property I’m buying is next to the C Crue complex. Trick had been working on the owners to free it up for the Crue to buy for a while. Good timing that they finally relented right when I needed to build Rachel a house.
“Did you have to pick a spot so far from our friends?” she deadpans.
I wink and hold out the packet from the realtor. There are a dozen different floor plans from three different builders. I orient the pages and let her go through them. Straight off she cuts the group down to five, which is good.
My attention’s half on the street, keeping an eye out for Frank and his guys as I always do. The approaching woman doesn’t raise a blip until she walks onto the property.
“Rachel,” she calls.
We both turn toward her. Her hair’s darker and she’s put on about twenty or thirty pounds, so I don’t recognize her at first.
“Mom?” Rachel says breathlessly.
Hannah Ross digs into her bag, and she comes up with a gun.
I grab Rachel and shove her behind me, but when I reach for my gun, Hannah yells for me to stop.
“Rachel, come out.”
“No,” I bark.
“What are you doing?” Rachel asks, and I don’t know if she’s talking to me or her crazy mother.
The woman looks normal enough with her highlighted hair and pink track suit, but she’s holding the gun like a twitchy meth head.
“Let her go! I will shoot you!” she yells.
“Go ahead,” I say in a low voice.
“Mom, what are you doing?” Rachel says. “Please don’t do this.”
“Come over here. We’re leaving. You move aside. Let her go. You have no right. Neither did Frank!”
I cock my head, wondering whether she has any idea what’s going on with daughter’s life. “She’s with me by choice,” I say.
“Being threatened means it’s not a choice! I never should’ve waited so long. He swore so many times that he’d never hurt her! I thought she was okay!”
“Let me talk to her,” Rachel says, putting her arm around me.
I resist letting her step into the open where she’ll be a target, but I don’t want this to end badly if it doesn’t need to.
“Hannah, lower the gun. I’ll let her come out from behind me if you do that. I just don’t want you to accidentally shoot your daughter.”
Her hands tremble, but she shakes her head. “You’ll rush me. If you care about her, let her walk away. She can go to the side and around. I’ll keep the gun on you until she’s free. Those are my terms.”
I’m sure then that she’s not there to hurt Rachel.
“Agreed,” I say and bring my arms up. I rest my hands on my head.
Rachel’s arm comes around me, hugging my body, then she moves to the side into the open.
“I’m all right,” she says. “It’s not the way you think, Mom. Not with him.”
Her mother’s face crumples, and the gun’s barrel drops several inches.
“It’s okay,” Rachel says softly, rushing to her.
“I tried to reach you. Then—then I heard Frank was forcing you to marry someone. I kept trying. The picture account didn’t get updated for so long, and finally I heard they’d taken you—his former enforcers.
They were so dangerous and violent, even when they were young.
I couldn’t see you anymore on Instagram.
I didn’t know what they were doing to you. ”
She hugs her mom tearfully. “It’s okay. I’m fine!” She kisses her mom’s cheek and hugs her again. “I can’t believe you’re here. It’s dangerous for you!”
From the corner of my eye, I see movement. A window coming down. Another gun barrel.
“Raven!”
Her head turns toward the street.
I charge forward, hearing the crack. And another. And another one, louder.
The car’s tires screech. My own gun is out. I spot my best target and shoot a tire. The car swerves and slams into a parked car.
Men jump out and take off down the street. Voices from inside the car are shouting.
I stalk over and look inside. Frank’s slumped against the back seat, holding the side of his neck, which is gushing blood. Paul’s next to him, trying to help until he sees me.
He starts to raise his gun. Too late. A single shot from me, and his head jerks. He falls onto the floor of the car.
Frank wheezes, shaking his head and holding up one hand.
I don’t lower my gun, nor do I use it. I wait.
He’s pale. The blood spills from between his fingers, his hand slipping off the wound over and over.
He seems to realize he doesn’t have much time. He looks around the car, scrambles for Paul’s gun.
Distant sirens, getting closer.
I wait, like I’ve got all the time in the world.
He moves with energy I didn’t know he still had. He manages to raise it halfway. I fire.
He jerks back and slumps over.
I wait again. When the stillness lasts long enough, I finally look around.
C’s on my right, silent. Behind us, Trick’s talking, quietly giving instructions.
I turn my head.
Hannah Ross’s gun lies on the ground between Rachel and her mother. Trick’s gun is in his hand, but it’s pointed at the ground as he speaks.
The shot to Frank’s neck was an unbelievably lucky one since the car was moving.
I wouldn’t have thought either of the women could’ve made it, but it had to have been one of them because Trick came around the corner late.
I don’t think he was in range. My gaze goes to the gun on the ground.
Which of them had it when Frank was shot?
RACHEL
I answer questions—and don’t answer them—for hours.
At first, I concentrate very hard on Trick’s quickly spoken advice, but over time, I find my own rhythm in the police interrogation.
I repeat the safe answers and say I don’t know to everything else about the shooting.
I also say I’m not sure to many other questions, repeating over and over that I’m in shock and can’t think. It’s half true.
When they finally release me from the interrogation room, I touch the wall for support. I haven’t eaten in hours and almost feel like I’m floating. I follow a detective to the front, and there’s a lot of noise.
From somewhere, Sasha appears right in front of me and picks me up.
I don’t say anything. I’m cradled tight against his body, and he turns and then pushes forward until we’re outside. Daylight has faded. I don’t know what time it is.
Both Rovers are parked. Trick hops out of one. He comes around and opens the passenger door and Sasha gets in, still holding onto me. The door closes.
“Is Frank dead?” I ask.
“Yes,” Sasha says.
I’m numb, but somewhere at the edge of my feelings I’m relieved.
“My mom will be able to stay,” I say. “She won’t have to leave again.”
“No, she’s good. C and Zoe have her in the other car. She’s safe.”
“She came back for me,” I mumble. “When she thought I was in trouble.”
“Yeah. And she’s been trying to reach out for a long time. She says she sent you messages through the Instagram account.”
“I didn’t get those. He controlled that account. I didn’t have the password.”
“She says she sent a train ticket to Illinois where she lives.”
I close my eyes and smile. It wasn’t a trick. The note and ticket were from my mom. If I’d known… but then I might not have become truly free. And I wouldn’t have been with Sasha.
The timing worked out, I tell myself. Everything happened exactly when it was supposed to happen.