Page 53 of Second Goal

“Bullshit. Everything you do, you put your whole heart into. Notice I didn’t ask if you love her? Because I know you do.”

“I do,” I say, sighing. “But it’s more complicated than just loving her.”

“You think love is ever anything but complicated?”

I know he’s referring to his own battle to win Brynne’s love.

“It’s not Kiley’s baggage that’s holding me back. It’s my own. The thought of giving my whole heart to her, then losing her, terrifies me. I’m not sure I’d survive it.”

“Tell her that.”

I rub the back of my neck, knowing he’s right.

The plane bounces as we touch down. When I turn my phone off airplane mode, it starts buzzing with an incoming call. The name that pops up is the private investigator I hired.

“Carl,” I say when I answer. “What do you havefor me? And tell me it’s good news.”

“I checked into the death of that guy you asked about. It wasn’t easy. The date you gave me was wrong. And there wasn’t any foul play. He was just a junkie—”

“What are you saying, he wasn’t...” I lower my voice. “Murdered?”

Kane looks over at me, frowning.

“No. Report said he overdosed on heroin, on October fifth—”

“You’re sure that’s the right date?”

“Yeah. I have it all here in front of me.”

It doesn’t make sense. The guy died two weeks after Kiley said she struck him. That means she wasn’t responsible. She didn’t kill him.

“I sent you all the info in an email.” Carl hesitates, and I sense thebutcoming. “There was something else.”

The guys around us are starting to shift in their seats, standing and grabbing their carry-ons from the overhead compartments as the plane parks in the terminal, but Kane is beside me, waiting with brows furrowed.

“Tell me,” I say.

Carl clears his throat. “You asked me to do some digging into your girl’s past.”

“It’s fine,” I tell him. “I know everything now.”

“You sure about that?”

That knot in my chest starts to form again, because I can hear in his tone that whatever he’s about to tell me isn’t good news. A part of my brain warns me to not dig deeper. But that other part, the part that’s terrified of being lied to again, demands to know the truth.

“Okay,” I say cautiously.

“I didn’t find much at first. She doesn’t have any criminal records. But she was into some bad shit. Drugs, prostitution—”

“No.” I almost laugh at the absurdity of his statement.

“I know it’s not what you want to hear, but—”

“You’re wrong,” I growl out, making a few heads turn in my direction.

“What?” Kane mouths.

I put a hand up and shake my head.

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