Page 36 of The Fixer

With Kosta on my mind, I did what I thought he would. I gave Eliza time. I gave her space. Gentle smiles and as much patience as I could muster, even though everything inside of me begged to speed this up.

She was a disaster waiting to happen. My destruction and my downfall, if I didn’t get away from her.

Kosta would have stood by her side as she visited her father’s condo, giving her quiet support, helping her work through her feelings as she processed her immense grief along with everything else going on in her head.

“Your insecurities are not yours,” Kosta’s voice whispered in my mind. “They were put there by someone else. It’s their way of bringing you down, of keeping you under their thumb. They get their power from your pain, and the only way to overcome it is to make those insecurities your own.”

I wanted to share Kosta’s wisdom with Eliza. To heal her the way I’d seen Kosta heal countless others. So, I did what Kosta would have done: I stood beside her as she visited her father’s condo, keeping my hands to myself.

“Jet.” Eliza stopped in the hallway twenty feet from her father’s door. Her chocolate eyes glimmered with gold. Her creamy, freckled skin called to me to take a taste, even as her hand reached out to my forearm and I tried not to pull away.

“What is it?” I asked, voice gentle while my muscles went stiff.

Those eyes darted away, locking on something at the end of the hall. When she didn’t return her gaze to me, I turned to see what had caused her concern.

And immediately grabbed for my gun.

“Get behind me.”

It was happening again. The door to her father’s condo had been busted open and it sat crooked on its hinges, though no lights shone from the other side. Without me having to say so, Eliza cowered behind me, staying close as I crept forward on the solid floor. I led the way inside with the muzzle of my gun, and this time, Eliza slipped into the corner, crouching down without being told.

Was it wrong that I wanted her with me? I’d never been inside this place before, had never scoped out the hiding places where danger could lurk. Was she safer there, in the corner, than she would be at my side?

The condo was large and somewhat dated. Well-worn leather couches sat upright and whole. Pictures of Eliza and her mother hung unbothered on the walls. The destruction that had been so evident in Eliza’s apartment wasn’t here.

Past the kitchen and dining nook I went, around the wall with the built-in fireplace. I sped through faster than I’d been able to in her apartment the night before and was through the spare room and bathroom in just minutes.

It was Charlie’s bedroom where the thieves had hit. The room was tossed, drawers opened and rummaged through, a jewelry tray on the dresser flipped on its end. A record player and two bookcases full of vinyl records had been tipped over and were spread across the room. The light was on in the walk-in closet, and the safe door stood open, metal shavings on the wood floor.

Lowering my weapon, I did another sweep of the rooms before making it back to Eliza’s side. She stood when she saw me, then shuffled two feet inside the door.

Kosta would have gone to her. Pulled her into an embrace. Assured her that everything would be okay. It wasn’t about what I wanted. It had to be about her.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered against her skin as I wrapped her in my arms. She was stiff and unyielding, her hands held at her sides.

“Is it bad?”

I shook my head and my lips touched her cheek with the movement. My tongue slipped out, tasting the flavor she’d left on my skin. “It’s not bad,” I croaked, gravel in my throat. “Not like your place. It’s just…”

She pulled back. Her eyes looked red where they hadn’t been before. “What is it?”

“Your father’s room. They were looking for something. The safe—”

“No!” Eliza raced across the room before I could reach for her. I followed after, tempted to grab her, to stop her. Frightened it’d scare her away.

By the time I reached her, she was kneeling before the safe, hands covering her face as she wept. I knelt beside her. Pulled her into my body. Rocked her and soothed her, promising things I had no right to promise as I told her everything would be okay.

I called Billy Rinaldi as she cried silently in my arms. I coaxed her into the living room and called Santini while we sat waiting on the couch. I had half a mind to call Zee, I was so afraid she was in shock. She was cold. Distant. Refusing to speak, refusing to look at me. She looked at nothing but her hands.

Rinaldi got there before Santini, and Eliza answered every one of his questions with fewer and fewer words. When he persuaded her to go back into Charlie’s room, I had to help her walk.

The girl pulled at the floor of the safe until something shifted and a small sheet of metal came up. She tugged out a small plastic bag containing a navy-blue book. A tear trickled down her cheek as she brought out her passport and social security card, and I was so worried she’d take them and run that I wanted to rip the documents from her hands and tear them up.

“She got somewhere safe to go?” Rinaldi asked as he was finishing up. “I don’t believe in coincidences. Not like this.”

I dug my knuckle into my forehead and Santini gave an ugly grin.

It had nothing to do with the coincidences. The two break-ins and the death of a cat. No, the deep chuckle that rumbled out of his chest was a vicious reminder of how far gone I was. It strangled me like a fist gripping tightly at my throat.