Chapter 30
Chapter
Thirty
WINDER
We didn’t acknowledge the dream journal, even though it burned a hole through Blaire’s work bag. We didn’t talk about it while we aimlessly drove around, no destination in mind. We didn’t mention it when we grabbed some food, both of us picking at our burgers and fries.
The journal was the elephant in the room until we pulled back up at my house in the late afternoon.
Blaire held her bag to her like a second skin. “I don’t know if I want to go back into your room just yet.”
I took her in, red hair brilliant in the glow of the sun, understanding what she meant. We were either going to find a connection in that book, or we weren’t, and being trapped in the stifling air of my room wouldn’t help either way. “Want to sit on the porch?”
She looked over to the worn wood, growing busy with people already. “With everyone?”
Striding over to the crowd, I tossed my head toward the house. “Clear off my porch. Now.”
A few mutters and disgruntled comments followed, but no one dared to contest me, and eventually the steps were empty besides myself and Blaire. I sat on the top one, groaning beneath my weight, and patted the space next to me. “I promise it’ll hold both of us.”
Blaire gave me a wary look. “Uh huh. Just in case, I’ll take the next step down.” She plopped down just below me, and for a minute we sat in silence. Inside, someone turned on the radio.
She sighed. “I guess it’s now or never.” Reaching inside her bag, she pulled out the black notebook.
“I don’t need the gritty details. I just need settings and descriptions.”
“Okay.” She took a deep breath, and opened the book. “The first dream I wrote down was in a warehouse. There were wooden crates everywhere. He wore a dress shirt, dark hair, and… ugh, Winder, this is useless.”
I squeezed her shoulder. “It’s not useless. I actually know the warehouse you’re talking about. At least I did. Maybe it’s not the same one. Keep going.”
Blaire squinted at the loopy handwriting. “There’s not a whole lot else. Oh! He wore glasses. I remember because there was a blood splatter on them. They were fancy, too.”
An image hit me, all at once. A well-dressed man, with overly ornate horn-rimmed glasses. “Freddie.”
“What?” Blaire held her page with her thumb, and looked up at me with wide eyes. “You know him?”
“He’s Conrad’s accountant. Or was, I guess. He fell off the map a while ago, and now I know why.”
“No wonder he hates me,” Blaire muttered. Her gaze went fuzzy.
“No. Nope. No giving up now. Your idea is working, and if we can get through all of them like this, we might be able to put some kind of picture together.” She rested her hand on mine, and her eyes came back to me. “What’s next?”
This time, her voice was sure. “Loud music. Really loud music. But I don’t think I was at someone’s house…”
On and on we went, through all the dreams in her book, while the afternoon sun settled into dusk, and the music inside the house grew louder.
Conrad’s accountant. His supplier. His uncle.
A dealer I only knew about in passing.
Until we came to, “His second in command.”
Blaire froze. “What?”
I nodded toward her book. “The man you’re describing. That was his second in command. Craig, I think his name was. When was that dream again?”
She checked the date written above the entry. “Two days. Two days before the break and enter.”
“So, you were taking out his men, slowly working your way to the top. Subconsciously, you must have remembered them from your time undercover, and where they tended to hang out. Not that Conrad’s men are exactly discreet.
” Leaning back, I looked up at the starless night.
“Something had to happen to make him realize it was you who was responsible. Maybe you got too confident and left a trail. Maybe he knew all along and just didn’t care until you took it too far—which wouldn’t surprise me. ”
Blaire closed the book, running her tongue along her teeth. “Do any of the locations tell you where he might be?”
“It tells me he’s a cocky son-of-a-bitch, and hasn’t bothered changing much since I worked for him. But, yes. I recognize a few of the locations, and I can take an educated guess at some of the others.”
A lull fell between us, each of us processing in our own way.
“What do we do next?” she asked.
I rose, pulling her up with me. “I don’t know what you saw that night, Blaire.
Maybe we will never know. But what I do know is this.
Whatever you saw was enough for them to kill Oliver and leave you for dead.
And it was enough for you to subconsciously want to pick them off one by one.
But whether you like it or not, for some reason, you’ve recently started a chain of events. The only way out is to finish it.”
Blaire pressed her lips together. “You mean killing Conrad.”
I lifted her jaw with my finger. “I mean, doing what it takes for you to be safe. If that means killing Conrad, so be it. He’s had it coming.”
“I just…” Blaire looked away, at something past me.
We were no longer alone on the porch, and the music inside the house pulsed with a backbeat that rattled my chest.
“Hey,” I said. “Talk to me.”
She snapped her gaze to me. “I just wish I knew what happened that night for sure. I wish I could remember who Oliver was, anything about him. I want to know what was so special about him that I’m willing to kill people for him.”
Hearing my brother’s name coming from her mouth hit me like a dagger to my heart, but I couldn’t possibly be mad at her. “It’s okay, baby. You don’t have to remember to know that whatever you two shared was enough for you to take action and seek revenge.”
Her gaze held vulnerability, an emotion I knew she tried hard to hide. “Do you really believe that?”
I paused. “Yes. I do.”
“You give me too much credit,” she said. “I’m just me.”
I pulled her up, kissing her with all the words I couldn’t figure out how to say. “Just you is more than enough.”
“Winder,” she murmured against my lips.
“Yeah, baby?”
“Have you…” She hesitated, drawing back slightly enough I could see the uncertainty in her eyes. “Have you thought about after?”
“After.” I repeated, rolling the word around on my tongue. After. There’d never really been an after for me. There’d just been the next problem to deal with. I never really ever considered ever getting out.
“I don’t want to jinx anything. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.” Blaire turned her face away from me, and I could practically hear herself overthinking all the words she just confessed.
Gently, I tucked my finger under her chin and pulled her face back toward me.
“No. Don’t run from me because you’re second guessing yourself.
It’s okay to have hope.” Even though I’d said it to reassure her, the words rang true for me as well.
Hope had been missing from my repertoire of emotions for far too long.
To be honest, I hadn’t expected it to ever return.
But something had shifted the moment Blaire walked back into my life, mixed in with the hesitancy and fear I felt. Hope.
Blaire’s eyes brightened, and the beginnings of a small smile grew across her face. “It seems wrong. To be hopeful now. I just think I’ve been running away for so long. For the first time I’m running toward the truth, with a plan. And you. It makes me think there could actually be an after.”
I shook my head, placing a light kiss on her mouth. “What do you want to do after?”
Blaire smirked. “Maybe get some real clothes, for one.”
I laughed. “Okay, fair. What’s next on your list as a free woman?”
“Coffee,” she muttered, burying her face into my chest. “Lots of coffee. Good coffee. After that, I don’t care. Just promise me you won’t leave again.”
“Never again. I promise. Whatever comes next, we’ll be together.” My heart twinged, knowing I meant that promise with every cell in my body.
She settled into my arms, finally relaxing as I pulled her close to my chest in a tight hug.
I didn’t want to ever let go. Everything that came next…
I didn’t want to put her through it. But once it was done, it was done.
Then I could give her the future she deserved.
The one I’d only let myself dream about on the loneliest of nights, where not even the moon could see me.
This had to be where everything changed for the better, the moment where everything I’d struggled through finally fell into place.
Right now, I never wanted to think about the past ever again.
All I wanted was to take my beautiful girl to bed, and stare into her eyes until I could see nothing but our future.
It was dark when my eyes opened, but contentment settled over me like an old friend.
I rolled over, needing to know Blaire was next to me. I was desperate to know she would never leave. She had never been my prisoner, but I might have been hers. My arm reached out, grabbing nothing but air.
Blaire wasn’t beside me. I bolted upright, scanning the dark room, but there was no sign of her.
Fuck. Not again.
I tossed the blankets, nothing. “Blaire? Baby?”
Nothing. The bathroom was empty as well. I threw open the door, pushing past the people who lingered even in the early hours. No Blaire. My heart sank into my stomach, my lungs struggling to process any amount of oxygen. Something wasn’t right.
I searched every bedroom, every bathroom, every goddamn closet, but it was useless. The house was devoid of any trace of her. Blaire was gone, and I would put money on the fact she hadn’t gone willingly.
But the funny thing about losing someone once, was that you would do anything in your power to make sure you didn’t lose them again.