Page 96 of Possession

Blake

She was quiet on the trip home. I didn’t expect otherwise, in light of everything she’d learned about me in a short evening meant for purported “feels” of a romantic nature.

Feelswas a ridiculous word, but Grace used it, so I was trying to expand my vocabulary.

To recap:

That our date was a cover for a meeting with old mob buddies.

That I evenhadold mob buddies.

Because my father had old mob buddies, which showed a legacy of life on the other side of the law.

That my father’s mob buddies might be Annabelle and Philomena’s old buddies, and it probably wasn’t a coincidence.

And one of my favorite ties had threads missing and a giant drool puddle in the middle.

The bright spot was that we had approximately six boxes of cupcakes. They’d probably fill up my refrigerator. When Grace dumped me and refused to speak to me, I’d be forced to take them to work and leave them shamefully in the break room.

At least no one would know how utterly incapable I was at the whole romance thing. I wasn’t much better at being a sleuth.

For fuck’s sake, I was a builder. Not someone who sat around composing poetry and strumming a guitar to serenade his lady love.

As soon as we landed and I powered down the helicopter, I turned to her. “Look, I get that you’re angry.”

She stared resolutely out the windshield.

“I also get that you have reason to be. I invited you out under false pretenses, and I had no intention of telling you what they were. The plan was to discreetly slip away from the table and speak to Dante while you were occupied with your meal. Instead, he chose his moment, just like his goddamn father.”

She bent to pick up her purse. And hopped out of the helicopter.

I stared after her, watching the gold silk of her hair waft around her shoulders in the night wind. She opened the door and went inside without another glance back.

Shutting my eyes, I tipped back my head. I’d tried to be honest with her. I was starting to learn that no matter what my first inclination was, I couldn’t hold back things from her. Even if I thought it was for her own good. Even if I wasn’t sure what the outcome would be.

Yet she’d just walked away, right in the middle of me bearing my soul.

Or revealing the extent of my lies, which probably made up most of my soul at this point, anyway.

Now fucking what?

I followed her into the building, a half dozen bakery boxes in my arms along with my briefcase. I’d struggled with the door, but hell, that was the least of my concerns.

Grace wasn’t on the executive floor.

The same panic that had seized me earlier took hold of my chest and gut. For a second, I couldn’t breathe through it. There was just the blinding reality that she could be gone, out there and unprotected.

In danger.

I’d had one fucking job—to keep her safe—and I’d failed. And all I’d needed to do was just be honest with her. To treat her as an equal.

Swallowing the acrid taste at the back of my throat, I stepped back onto the elevator and rode it to the lobby. I went out to the parking garage, ready to rip the town apart from the steel beams of this building to the concrete supports that held up the streets if necessary. Whatever it took to find her, I would do.

This time, I wouldn’t let her go.

I’d tell her the truth—all of it—and I’d beg her to stay.

I emerged on the level where I’d parked, hoping like hell she’d be standing beside my SUV. Instead, she was inside.

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