33. Slade
SLADE
Jude left for work twenty minutes ago and I’m already pacing her apartment like a caged animal.
She wanted to stay home, curled up in bed together.
And God, I wanted her to. It’s the first night we’ve spent together in its entirety, and waking up to her was like being reborn into a new life and not a nightmare.
I keep getting glimpses of what my life could be.
If it’s even possible. But she has a big presentation at work her team’s been working on for months, so I forced her out the door, promising I’d be here when she returned tonight.
That leaves a whole day for me to go out of my goddamn mind.
I have to go back to the store on Fifth Avenue. It’s a compulsion now. To stand and watch for hours. To wait for snippets of their lives to play out in front of me. The only scraps I get.
I’m the outsider, looking in.
Jude’s right. She didn’t have to say it for me to know what she’s thinking. I have to face my family. I can’t contemplate a future with her until I face my past. And I don’t want to leave her, go somewhere new and be a stranger again. A shadow.
The thought’s slowly killing me. Before, I coped. It was enough. I had nothing to strive for. Nothing worth existing for.
Now I have her.
I pull my black baseball cap on and tug it low over my forehead, heading toward the front door. Noise on the other side of it stops me in my tracks as the sound of a key being slid into the lock follows.
It’s not Jude; she’s not due back for hours.
I curl my hands into fists. Her ex. It’s got to be him.
The door swings open and an older man steps inside, jumping out of his skin when he sees me.
“Who the hell are you?” he yells, taking me in quickly like he’s trying to work out if I’m a robber and/or a threat.
“I’m a friend of Jude’s,” I reply, purposefully not giving him a name. “You’re her father.”
I recognize him now from the photos.
Her father observes me with cool suspicion.
“A friend of Jude’s? Where is she?”
“At work.”
“What did you say your name was?”
“I didn’t.”
He narrows his eyes. “How do you know my daughter?”
“We met in South Africa. I worked at the hotel where she was staying.”
His eyes drop over my dark sweatpants and hoodie and up to my cap. “Dare I ask as what?”
I fight to keep my expression open and friendly. I know where this is headed.
“An activities coordinator.”
“Activities?” he mutters the word like it’s insignificant and a waste of time.
“Assistant activities coordinator technically. I sorted out the equipment. Got the firewood. That type of thing.”
“And you’re here in New York, visiting my daughter. Did she know you were coming?”
“I wanted to surprise her.”
The two of us stare at one another in silent challenge. I’ve met plenty of men like him before. All too ready to judge based on appearances. I wait. Any second now. One, two, three—
“I expect you’ll be leaving soon. Back to South Africa.”
His predictability almost makes me smile.
“Thought I’d stick around, actually. Spend more time with Jude.”
His eyes widen and he gives me another once-over, not even trying to be subtle as he scowls.
“Jude’s a smart girl. You’ll find she’ll be too busy for you to be hanging around for long. Plus, she has her wedding to reschedule. She’s marrying a surgeon.”
“I met Callum.” I hold her father’s gaze and I’ll give it to him, he doesn’t flinch, just stares back, equally unimpressed by what I’m saying as I am about what he is.
“She still has her wedding dress hanging in her closet,” he adds, studying my reaction. “Whatever this situation is that you two have going on will be over soon. If it’s not Callum, then it’ll be someone else suitable for her. People go where they belong.”
His lips quirk like he’s got the upper hand when I don’t reply, and after a moment, he turns to walk out of the door.
“That what you did? Stayed in your lane where you belonged?” I say to his back. He stiffens, and I add, “Do you want me to give Jude a message?”
He snorts, glancing at me, his phone already in his hand. “I’ll call and speak to my daughter myself.”
My family is onto me.
The way my father scoured the sidewalk yesterday after his new wife spoke to him made it clear.
She recognized me.
She might never have met me, but she knew who I was.
It means they must have told her about me, must have spoken about me, at least once.
The knowledge doesn’t bring any joy to me like I thought it would.
They probably told her I’m a killer, and a problem they dealt with.
Nothing to worry herself over. What else would they say?
My coffee cup is empty, finished almost an hour ago.
I need to stop standing here, on the opposite side of the street, like a crazed stalker.
The world is going on around me—nonstop traffic passing along, cabs veering to the sidewalk to pick up fares, people on the street, shopping, talking, going about their lives.
The city buzzes around me, but all I can focus on is giant gold-handled doors beneath a deep blue canopy.
None of them have come or gone today yet. I likely missed my brother and his daughter this morning because I was in bed with Jude, waking her up with my head between her thighs.
She’s a dream.
This is all a goddamn fucking dream. An idealistic, fanciful, unattainable one.
Jesus Christ, I’m deluded.
I need to face my family. I have no chance of any type of future with Jude while I’m a ghost. I don’t know what I expected to happen when I came back. How I thought this could ever work out. I was driven purely by this painful compulsion to see her. To be near her.
Nothing else mattered.
For the first time in three years, I was living in the present, and not the past. And now I don’t know what the fuck happens next.
“Slade?”
I turn sharply at the unfamiliar female voice.
A woman with ice-blonde hair and a pregnant bump stares at me.
Fuck.
Her eyes don’t widen as she studies me. If anything, they relax in confirmation, like she expected to see me here.
“It was you I saw at the wedding, wasn’t it?”
My heart is threatening to rip its way out of my chest, and I can’t do anything other than stare at her.
“I feel this energy whenever Sterling talks about you,” she continues, unperturbed by my lack of response. “It’s so strong… so…” She tilts her head to one side. “Now it makes sense.”
I swallow, but my throat is so dry it takes a huge effort.
“You’re married to my father,” I state.
Her eyes brighten at the mention of him. “I am. I’m Halliday.”
“Halliday,” I echo, my eyes dropping to her belly. She must be due soon judging from the size of it.
“Sterling and Sullivan have gone mad. They’re checking all the CCTV from the store, all the cameras around the city they can get access to. It’s only a matter of time until they find you.”
I search for the warning that’s missing from her tone. But her eyes match her voice, both full of… concern.
“Whatever the reasons, they love you, and they’ll forgive you.”
“They blame me,” I say.
She looks taken aback. “Why would you think—?”
Her phone rings, and she pulls it from her bag, glancing at the screen. “It’s Sterling.”
I’m already stepping past her when she grabs my hand and presses something into my palm.
“Courage and truth. Please come to them soon, they’ve suffered enough,” she whispers, before answering the call.
I don’t slow down until I’m three blocks away. Only then do I uncurl my fist and look at what she gave me.
Inside my palm is a small blue-and-gold-flecked crystal.