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I know you’re upset with me for not telling you the whole story about my kidneys. I knew you didn’t take me seriously when I told you I was dying, but there was nothing you could do about it anyway. You’ve already done enough. More than I deserved. You put yourself in that bastard’s hands, so I could live in peace. And I have. This place was exactly what I needed.
But my time is done.
Besides, you’ve waited long enough to live your life. I know you’ve done some bad things, but I also know why you had to do them. Forgive yourself. If you can, forgive me, for all the years you’ve suffered. Then, try to start over. Get as far away from all this as you possibly can.
Don’t waste your money on a fancy service for me. I don’t need it. Just scatter my ashes at Piedmont Park.
I’ll be watching you from wherever my tired old soul goes next.
She didn’t sign it, but he had no doubt those were his grandmother’s words.
He balled the letter tightly in his fist, then hurled it at the wall only to watch it bounce pitifully to the ground. His blood burned to break something, to swipe everything from the desk onto the ground. Instead, he stomped outside to the gazebo where he sat with her last. Then he vaulted up and wrapped his hands around one of the beams framing the turret.
He didn’t count as he pulled his body up and eased it down. His mind was too busy raging. He pulled up…eased down.
It didn’t matter whether he could have saved her. She was dead. After everything he’d fucking done to keep her safe, she was dead anyway.
And she knew. She fucking knew what it cost him.
Why wasn’t it enough to save her?
His lats and his biceps burned, but he pressed on, pushing himself harder. Until the anger drained away. Until the impotence stopped crushing him. Until he could really focus on the words his grandma had left behind.
She thought he’d done right by her. She was grateful. She was sorry.
Could he forgive himself?
Who knows?
Could he forgive her?
Wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, he looked up at the blue sky. That one was a no-brainer. Even though his heart weighed heavy, he was ready to start his new life, and in her way, his grandma had given him her blessing.
He wasn’t going to waste this chance.
***
Brick’s first order of business was to collect his cash from the apartment. He needed money if he had any chance of making a clean break from Sucre.
Everyone seemed to be watching as he parked his truck and strode into his place. He emptied out the hollow leg of his table, stuffing all the bills into a backpack. Gently, he wrapped his tiny, childhood race car into a bandana and added it to the bag, along with the photo of his grandma and the napkin from the Majestic. Those were the only things he wanted to keep. Everything else here could be replaced.
He’d tried calling Olivia on the way back, but the calls went straight to voicemail. The plan was to go to her apartment from here and never look back at his old life again. He’d disappear. If anyone was fool enough to come after him, they wouldn’t live to regret it.
He almost didn’t recognize the hope—the promise of freedom—fluttering in his chest. It was so foreign, fragile.
Hefting the pack on his shoulder, he didn’t even spare a look around as he walked out the door for the last time. Still no answer from Olivia when he tried calling her again, but her car sat in the parking lot when he pulled up to her building.
His hand was poised to knock on the front door when he caught sight of Tre’s little brother, watching him from the sidewalk. A hundred ways to kill the kid shuffled through his head, but if the boy was here, it might already be too late. He turned away from the door and approached the teenager with caution.
The kid, Devon, shook his head before he could say a word. “Sucre’s got her.”
He swallowed the bile rising in his throat and stared at the boy’s face. It was almost expressionless, except for a small twitch in his left eye.
“I wanted to stop them. Miss T was always good to me. She tried to get me out of this hellhole. I was afraid to let anyone see she mattered to me, though, so I kept my mouth shut.”
For a moment, he’d forgotten the kid’s connection to his girl. “What did they tell you to do?”
Devon’s focus flickered around the parking lot, probably looking for a sign of whether the boss had set up spies. “I’m supposed to be watching for you. Sucre’s got a suspicion you might be involved with Miss Turner, but he’s not sure. I was supposed to stay out of sight and tell him if you showed up. Here.” He held out Olivia’s cell phone. “They’re gonna be searching for this. Your pictures are all over it.”
