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CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Grief could be a terrible thing, Poppy acknowledged the day after they buried Saige. The news sites were buzzing about the Huntington, West Virginia, business owner and his partner’s sister who had been caught in an arms raid by authorities. Saige’s death and the bullet in her back was blamed on rogue forces working with Caine Crossfield.
The AI wasn’t mentioned, and Ian had warned that it couldn’t be mentioned. News of such advanced robotics could turn into hysteria fast.
Sasha had been released, but had left the area within hours without leaving word where she was going or when she would be back. Texts and calls to her phone revealed that the number was no longer in service. Even River had no idea where she was or how to find her.
Poppy felt as though a part of her life had been killed with Saige. A part of her heart had definitely suffered a massive wound. Though often quiet, Saige had always been regarded as a dear friend along with Sasha, Lilith, and Erika. And now, Saige was dead and Sasha was gone.
The shock waves she, Lilith, and Erika were feeling were soul-deep, and at times, Poppy felt, insurmountable.
The day after Saige’s funeral, Poppy sat in Jack’s kitchen, a cup of coffee in front of her, watching the sun begin to spill through the windows and lighten the dim rooms as the years played out in her memories.
They’d all met in kindergarten; their families lived close to each other, socialized, and often supported each other in various endeavors. The girls had become friends, and as the years went by, Poppy had thought they’d become sisters.
After high school they’d each gone to different colleges, and though they talked often, Poppy realized they’d all changed in ways that none of them spoke of. Especially Saige. But Poppy had never imagined that one of her best friends could become so hard and cold. Murderous.
How had it happened? Or had Saige always been different, and they just hadn’t realized it?
She touched her fingers to her mouth at the realization her lips were trembling, and forced them to still. She would not cry over the woman who had killed Jimmy Stafford in cold blood, and would have killed her as well. She was not going to cry over a woman who’d never existed as she portrayed herself. A woman who hadn’t even loved the brother who had always stood by her, protected her.
She could cry for Dawson, she decided. For Lilith, who had cried silently at the funeral. For Erika, who kept looking for Sasha. For Sasha, who had run away from them all. She could cry for them.
She felt the tears hit her fingers as they lay against her lips, felt them flowing over her cheeks, as silent as Erika’s had been and filled with anger.
Why had Saige betrayed them all? Not just her brother and her friends, but her country as well. She’d helped Caine transport terrorists, trafficking victims, drugs, weapons… She’d lied, cheated, and killed. And none of them had suspected a thing.
Lowering her face into her hands, she fought the sobs, the fury, and the need for hatred toward the woman she’d loved like one of her sisters. She would have died for Saige, but Saige wouldn’t have cared.
She fought the sobs that built in her chest, knowing they would wake Jack. He’d only returned hours ago from another meeting with Ian Richards, and he’d looked exhausted. The search for the AI hadn’t turned up any clues, not so much as a whisper of where she’d gone or what she was programmed for.
Jack had slid into bed, wrapped around her, and been asleep within seconds. He hadn’t even moved when she’d slipped from the bed. Which was incredibly rare. She rarely made a move that he didn’t sense.
He was tired. He needed his sleep…
She smothered the need to scream with the tears, to release the anger and pain burning inside her. Because it didn’t make sense. She couldn’t understand how someone could sustain a lifetime of lies, of pretending to be kind and caring…
But then, since college, the “kind and caring” hadn’t been as apparent. She was always busy. Always working on the next deal—or was it the next murder? Always in meetings. Saige had distanced herself in a way none of them had questioned.
Her brother was driven to succeed, so why wouldn’t Saige be just as driven? Just as ambitious?
As the thoughts raced through her head and she fought the sobs tearing at her chest, she realized that maybe she was crying mostly for herself. Because she had loved Saige.
“Ah, baby. Come here.” Jack’s arms were suddenly surrounding her, lifting her from her chair before sitting in it himself and cradling her against his naked chest. “I have you, Poppy,” he whispered against her hair. “I have you, baby.”
He’d whispered those words once before, years ago, after the attack by Wayne Trencher. He’d held her, his voice low, gentle, just as it was now.
He let her cry, rocked her until the tears began to ease and the ragged, pain-filled sobs were silenced. He stroked her back, his lips pressed to the top of her head. He just held her. He didn’t try to silence the emotional storm tearing through her, but let her navigate it as he surrounded her with his warmth.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice rough when she could finally speak. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
He stroked her arm gently. “You didn’t wake me,” he assured her. “I was just resting, not really sleeping.”
“You were tired,” she reminded him as she accepted the tissues he pressed into her hand and wiped the residue of the emotional storm away.
“And now I’m not,” he stated, brushing his chin against her hair. “Do you think I could sleep knowing you need me? I knew you needed time this morning, so I rested until I heard you crying. It’s okay, sunshine. I promise.”
It amazed her how he always sensed things with her, knew when she needed him near, when she needed time. The past three days had been hell as she’d navigated what she could and couldn’t say, and tried to make sense of the emotions roiling through her.
