chapter 85
I leaned back against his chest, on the balcony of the room, eight floors above the street, his arms around me, his mouth nuzzling at the curve of my neck.
“I have to go,” I said softly.
“Don’t.” His arms tightened for a fraction of a moment, the touch weakening my resolve.
I watched a taxi roll to a stop, a young girl stepping out.
I thought of April McIntosh, in that dumpster, and wondered if she was taken there by car or carried.
“What do you know about the curse?” I asked, my words so faint I almost repeated them.
The curse. Such a stupid phrase, yet so fitting for the dark cloud it put over all of our lives.
He stiffened, his arms dropping and he turned me until we were face to face. “My publicist briefed me on them. When that girl was found in my jersey.”
“Julie Gavin.”
“Why do you ask?”
It was cold on the balcony, a stiff breeze hitting my bare arms, and I fought the urge to shiver.
I leaned against his chest, my cheek on his shirt, and looked down the street, my eyes floating over dark buildings, past hundreds of sleeping bodies and empty offices, the hour too late for life.
“I think of them all the time.” I said quietly.
“You should have brought me back sooner.” There was the hint of a smile in his voice and I frowned.
“We don’t exactly know the winning combination,” I said, pulling away from him. “We’re guessing at everything. What his motivations are, if it’s even a man, if he’s obsessed with you or the World Series…” Just another part of my life that I didn’t know, couldn’t control.
“The first girl died the year I left?”
“Yeah.” Rachel, in the alley.
“And there’s been one every year since? Always on the last day of the season? Or the playoffs?”
“Yeah.” April in the dumpster. Julie at the stadium. Tiffany at our home. RachelAprilJulieTiffany. I shivered, and it had nothing to do with the cold.
“Maybe it will stop this year. If we win.”
“And then what—it’ll start again if we lose next year?
” I pushed away, out of his warmth, and rubbed at my forehead, the stress mounting.
It was a possibility that Tobey and I had never discussed, neither wanting to imagine it.
This hell might never end. There were just too many people in this city.
Too many girls. Too many possible killers.
They might never catch this guy. I knew that, in some hopeless part of my heart.
“It’s not your problem, Ty. It won’t be your problem. You’ll be with me.”
“Where?” I lifted my arms, gesturing to the city. “This is my home.” I turned right, pointing to the stadium in the distance. Yankee Stadium. “That is my home.”
“You chose that home before. Back then.” He fixed me with a hard look, his jaw flexing as he crossed his arms over that beautiful chest. “And it hasn’t made you happy.”
No, it hadn’t. Still, the thought of leaving it, them, him … it was terrifying. Would I be able to do it?
I rubbed at the empty place where my watch wasn’t, my desire to stay trumped by a sudden panic at how long I’d been gone. “I’ve got to go. Really.”
He grabbed my arm, stopping me halfway through the balcony door. “I can’t hide this, Ty. The next time I see you, I’m pinning you against a wall and kissing you. I don’t care who is nearby; I don’t care who sees.”
I pulled my arm away and stepped into the room. “Don’t threaten me, Chase.” I opened the door to the bathroom, Titan ready, body tensed for a command.
“It’s not a threat. It’s just—I’ve waited a long time for you, Ty. Don’t ask me to wait any longer. Not after tonight.”
I reached for the doorknob. “Stay here. I’ve got Titan with me; I’ll be fine on the way back.”
“You can’t go back alone—” he protested, his hand hard as he held the door shut. I watched the muscles of his forearm flex, and Titan let out a low growl.
I turned my head, looking into his eyes. “I’ll be fine.”
Our eye contact warred for a moment, and his reluctant push off the door was one that surrendered more than it understood. I opened the door and let Titan out, stepping forward and stealing one last kiss in the moment before I stepped through.
He said nothing. Not I love you. Not goodbye.
He stood in that doorway and watched as I walked down to the elevator, my quick glance back catching his eyes.
I could have run to him. Jumped into his arms and let him take me away.
Out of this life, away from Tobey and the team and the deaths.
He had money, we had love. He could quit the game and we could screw everything and retire to a beach, our days spent with nothing but sunscreen and margaritas, sunrise massages and afternoon orgasms. I’d have babies and he’d coach little league and we’d be happy.
I could taste that future as clearly as I could breathe. And I wanted it so hard my chest ached.
Instead, I got on the elevator, Titan licking my shin before settling against my leg, his eyes fixed on the door.
I got off the elevator, walked through the lobby, and out onto the street.
And there, I ran. I ran as fast as I could, Titan stuck to my side, my heart hard in my chest by the time we hit the stadium gates.
I stopped at the security stand, gasping for breath, my hello short and stilted, a genuine smile of relief coming when I saw the guard reach down and hold out my bag.
I hadn’t thought about it, had left it on the field, my keys and my phone inside.
“You worried us, Mrs. Grant, leaving your bag and your vehicle. You should have let us know you were going for a run. We tried your cell, but—”
“—it was in the bag.” I wiped at my face, my hand coming away damp. “I know. Sorry about that.”
“Hopefully we didn’t disturb Mr. Grant.”
I paused. “What?”
“We tried Mr. Grant’s cell phone. When we couldn’t get yours. Hopefully it wasn’t too much of a disturbance.”
I wanted to crawl through the window of the security hut and shake the man. Quiz him five ways from Sunday. Did Tobey answer? What did they tell him? Did they pull footage? Mention Chase? I swallowed everything, pulling my phone from my bag. “I’ll call him now. Thanks.”
“Absolutely, Mrs. Grant. Have a good day.”
I nodded, feeling faint, my legs wobbly as I walked through the entrance, taking the side path toward the parking garage, afraid to look at my phone.
I had never been scared of Tobey before. But suddenly, without even seeing my phone, I was terrified.
What had I done?
Why had I done it?
And what would I tell him now?