Page 69 of The Shadows We Keep

My body freezes as a thought creeps into my mind.

What if he knows?

But how could he know?

I haven’t mentioned Alina at all. The computer I use now is squeaky clean when it comes to her.

What about the thumb drive?my subconscious taunts.

But that’s hidden, deep in a ring box, in a makeup bag, in a backpack, inside my duffle bag that I shoved to the back of the closet. Was it overkill? I thought so at the time, but maybe I was wrong.

The car slows to a crawl, waiting for the only open parking spot on the street. For a native Californian, Harkin has no issues guiding the oversized SUV into the tight opening. Parking spots in New York are few and far between in this area. The city has a sick sense of humor with how tiny they made them.

He reaches behind me into the back seat, poking around for a few seconds before his hands pull a beanie over my head, covering my ears.

“It’s just around the corner, but you were obviously cold on the walk to the car.”

I should thank him for his thoughtfulness, but my blood’s heated from this unexpected journey. My ass had planned to be back in bed by now, after a hot soak in the grand freestanding tub my ensuite has.

Instead, I jump out of the car and slam the door behind me. Apparently, my penchant for door slamming is not limited to inside. But Harkin doesn’t seem to notice, he’s too preoccupied by whatever thoughts are clouding his mind. He wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me into his side and starts guiding us to wherever he’s taking me for breakfast.

As soon as we step around the corner, the building comes into sight and there’s no missing it. My vision swims and my blood turns to ice. I dig my feet into the pavement and refuse to go any further.

The suppressed memories from my childhood come rushing back. Pixilated at first, like when you’d turn on an old TV and the screen took time to warm before the channel came through clear. But when they do my stomach turns at the blood pooling around her lifeless body. The screeching tires make it to my ears, even after the deafening shots ring out around us. My hands cup my ears even now as my body drops into a crouch on the sidewalk.

My head pounds from the onslaught of unwanted images. I just want them to stop. My vision grows blurry as I blink away tears, only for them to fill to the brim again and run down my face. His rough fingers grip tightly to my lowered chin, dragging my watery gaze up to meet his hallowed eyes.

His lips move against the air, but I don’t catch what he’s saying. My subconscious refuses to release its claws from my reality, pulling me deeper and deeper into a past I try my damnedest to forget.

“Fight it.” Mumbled whispers slowly pierce the world I’m drowning in, resurfacing me inch by struggling inch.

“Keira, focus on me, baby.”

And I do; I take in his handsome face, jaw clenched tight, eyes filled with concern. His thumbs run soothingly against my cheeks as he holds them tightly to keep me from peering around his body.

My chest still heaves as I struggle to pull oxygen into my lungs. If I had it in me, I’d use the pranayama breathing my therapist recommend I use in times like these. But who was she kidding? Instead, my eyes lock on the small scar parallel to Harkin’s hairline, using it as an anchor until the gasping subsides.

Before I can utter a word of explanation, I’m hoisted into Harkin’s arms and carried back the fifty feet we’d made it to the SUV. Instead of depositing me into the passenger seat like I’d assumed, he pushes me across the bench seat in the middle and climbs in after me.

“What are you doing?” I question his weird choice of seating arrangements.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

His eyebrows tilt down, the crease between them deep. I reach my finger up without thinking and run it down the spot of concern, smoothing it away. Taking in the first deep breath my body will allow and letting it out slowly, I nod sharply to answer him. I know he’ll want an explanation, but I’m worried doing so with throw me back into a tailspin.

“This place—why’d you bring me here?” My tone slides close to accusing, but he doesn’t know the whole scope of what happened that day. Especially not the specifics of where it went down. What was he supposed to do avoid every diner from here to New Jersey, just in case?

“I didn’t know. Fuck Keira, I’m so sorry. They must have torn down the original building and changed the name. I never would have brought you here if I’d known. I only picked it because it’s close to where we need to go after this.” He looks down at his watch, swearing quietly to himself.

“And now I have no time to explain things the way I wanted to.”

“Harkin, slow down! I don’t care where we need to go, tell me what’s going on.” The change in topic has taken my mind off what just happened, and I need to keep it that way.

“I set a meeting with the people who sent those surveillance photos.”

“And you’re taking me?” I push away from him, scrambling to turn quickly and find the handle, looking for escape. I know he said he’d protect me, but why would he be taking me in to meet whoever this person is. My foot doesn’t make it out of the SUV before an arm is snatching me back and closing the door again.

“What are you doing?” he asks in my ear, a trace of hilarity in his tone.

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