Page 66 of Even if You Fall

“We didn’t want you to know about the specifics of all his ‘relationships’ because we were worried if you knew you were his only real relationship during that time, you’d go back to him. But, Chloe, you need to understand how dangerous it is just being near him.”

She looked at me as if in a daze, still unable to process the mafia part. “But he’s not dangerous.”

“Chloe,” I began, then stepped closer until I was pressed to the side of the bed. “I can’t begin to get into how mafia families work, or how easily they blend in because they often don’tlookmafia. But, trust me, Vance is dangerous in his own right. And whatever he and his wife are doing in the schools is extremely dangerous.”

Her eyebrows drew close in confusion. “Working?”

I drew in a slow breath, then released it with the words, “The last thing Owen Vance needs is to work. His family comes from so much old money, his grandkids will probably even be set.”

Chloe blinked slowly, a dull laugh tumbling from her. “You’re—no. This has to be someone else. Y’all have to be looking into the wrong person. I’ve been in his house,” she added, almost sounding frantic, as if sheneededme to be wrong. “He isn’t wealthy.”

I gave her an apologetic look. “He and his wife started working at the exact same time—both in the positions they’re in now, even though neither of them had experience for any jobs, let alone those. But resumes and backgrounds can be created to look impressively real, and they chose to go into schools for a reason...”

I waited to see if Chloe would say anything or ask me to stop, but she just sat there, looking slightly nauseous and like she desperately wanted everything I was saying not to be true.

“We had our theories on why,” I went on. “After Monroe spent her second week in the schools, we narrowed them down. But we wanted to be wrong on all accounts, so we reached out to a group of people we work with from time to time who seem to know that life in a way we don’t.”

“And did they get back to you? Were you wrong?” she asked hopefully, and I knew down to my soul that her hope wasn’t because she needed Vance to be a good guy. It was because she was already so sickened by him and was afraid to find out he could be worse.

But the response we’d received had been the reason I’d stopped fighting Briggs on Chloe coming with me to Colorado. Not that I’d suddenly been okay with what her coming home with me would mean, or what it would do to my family. But as soon as I’d read the response, I’d felt torn in an inexplicable way.

Wanting desperately to avoid the confusion and sadness that came with introducing Chloe to my family all while needing to be the one who protected Chloe. Needing to keep her with me, where I could see her and know she was okay.

“Just before midnight last night,” I confirmed. When her eyes wildly searched me, silently prompting, I tried to ease her into the pieces we’d put together. “The teacher turnover rate in Dallas is about twenty percent right now, which is a lot higherthan it used to be a few years ago, but that doesn’t have anything to do with Vance.”

“Right...” Chloe said, drawing out the word and making it sound like a question.

“Which means other teachers and staff don’t think much of it when a teacher doesn’t come back,” I told her meaningfully.

“Right,” she agreed, clearly not understanding, and I realized I didn’t want her to. But she needed to know what kind of danger she’d been in. What kind of danger we thought she was still in.

“In our meeting yesterday,” I began, watching her carefully, “we thought Vance and his wife might be targeting all the women he flirts with and teases—the ones who aren’t in relationships with Vance, like you’d been. But Gray and I have been going through staff who’ve transferred out of district or quit since Vance started, and we finally stumbled onto something yesterday afternoon.

“Every year since Vance and his wife started working in the district,” I went on, “one or two of the young female staff who quit have also disappeared, but not in ways that raise warning with any family or friends theymayhave. A couple of them posted on social media something along the lines they were gonna live off the grid for a while, another said she was gonna take time tofind herself.”

“But they’re gone?” Chloe asked, horrified.

I nodded. “We think those women are ones he actually dated...like you,” I informed her, intently watching each shift in her expression and twitch of her hands as her chest pitched sharper with each breath.

“But...but, why? I don’t—I don’t understand,” she said breathlessly. But I had a feeling from the way she seemed to be putting things together as she spiraled closer and closer to a panic attack that shedidunderstand, she just didn’t want to be right.

“Trafficking,” I said softly, gently, and watched as her entire body rocked with the word.

“No, because then—because that would mean—no,” she wheezed. “No, because I’m still here, and I—” Panicked, hazel eyes darted up to me, pleading with me as her chest pitched more wildly than before.

“Need you to breathe, Bubbles,” I said calmly as I sat on the edge of the bed and grasped her shuddering shoulder.

“Why am I still here?” she nearly cried.

“Breathe,” I demanded, my other hand reaching for her before I even realized I was moving. And then I was cradling the side of her head and forcing her to continue looking at me as I spoke. “Slow, deep breaths. You’ve got this.”

Her head moved in a tight mess of nods and shakes against my hand, but I just gave a single dip of my head and leaned closer as I tried passing all my calm into her.

“Force those slow, deep breaths,” I told her softly and nodded encouragingly when she took a fuller breath than before. “You’re good, Bubbles.”

Her pale lips trembled when she asked, “But why am I still here?”

I hesitated for long seconds, then sat back, my hand falling from her and feeling oddly empty at the loss of contact.

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