36. Grae
Grae
God, is there anything she didn’t do for me while we were apart? She kept everyone I care about alive, happy, and healthy to the best of her ability. I owe her my life—and theirs.
My phone is still able to get messages, when I figured signals would be blocked somehow in a safe house. I look down at my screen and see the message.
Unknown: We have CJ. Come alone.
Torn between a past lover and the love of my life, the answer should be obvious.
Stay here. But I spent so much of my adult life running toward him, protecting him, supplying him with whatever he needed, that it feels wrong not to do it now.
Not wrong exactly, but… unfinished. I get out of bed and get dressed as quietly as possible.
Her hair was spread over the pillow, and she’s lulled in peaceful sleep.
When she wakes, she’ll be alone. She’ll think I ran.
I scribble a note: ‘You’ve been the savior long enough. It’s my turn.’ But I crumble that and drop it in the trash. Instead, I leave, ‘Getting coffee. Be back soon,’ on the counter. Better that she thinks I’m stupid instead of the truth—an ill-equipped man with a hero complex.
The security system is still running, but there’s a keypad by the door.
All right, time to dissect Alana’s thought process.
It’s going to be a number. A date. The code is going to be obscure—something only she would think of.
Something from her old life. Something Lance or Thiago, or even Lena wouldn’t know.
Something about me. I huff out a quiet laugh.
She’s totally obsessed with me. It won’t be my birthday.
That’s too obvious. Too traceable. I type in the date of our first kiss.
The buttons have a soft, satisfying feel that most keypads lack.
I press the final number and there’s a second of hesitation.
Am I really that important to her that she would set such an arbitrary day as her security code?
The lock clicks open. Now I feel worse. I’m betraying her trust—all for CJ.
The city streets are quiet. It’s only a ten-minute walk to the pinned location.
It’s a café where we used to eat brunch every Sunday.
It was busy and bright. Sometimes drag queens would serve and entertain.
It was the place I told him I was in love with him so many years ago.
But now there’s no aroma of cheese and eggs frying, no heavy bass beats or clicking of heels on the floor. It’s dark and silent.
CJ sits in the last booth before the kitchen, his back to the door. I feel eyes on me, but I can’t see anyone. Danger, danger, danger. Every instinct I have is screaming at me as I step inside the café. Red flags everywhere. This is a trap.
I’m walking into it anyway.
For a split second, I think about Alana—about how furious she’ll be if this goes wrong. About how I’m putting her in danger just by being here. But I can’t stop now.
“I knew you would come,” he says.
“We’re all in a lot of danger right now,” I say. “I don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into, but I’m pretty sure your drug dealer is dead.”
“I know.” His lower lip quivers. “I’ve hated her for so long, and that’s a feeling that’s hard to lose overnight.”
My stomach drops, but I grip my phone in my right hand. “What did you do?”
“I didn’t have a choice.”
“There’s always a choice,” I say, my voice rising. “CJ—what did you do?”
Movement flickers in the corner of the room, to my right. I whip my head in that direction, and I start swinging, but it’s not fast enough. My phone slides out of my hand. But my body isn’t moving. Everything happens too fast.
“They said they won’t hurt you,” CJ yells over the chaos. “I told them her real name.” But his attention is on something behind me. His Adam’s apple bobs, and he takes a step back. Then I hear the soft pads of footsteps. The movement to the right was a distraction. The real attack came from behind.
Something sharp pierces my neck. A needle.
My body goes heavy instantly. My vision blurs as I stumble sideways, crashing into the floor. The world tilts, sound stretching and warping. Before the darkness takes hold, I see CJ scramble to his feet and dive on my phone.
Darkness rushes in. My last coherent thought is painfully clear: Alana is going to be so pissed at me.