“He’s very smart,” Reed said. “Did you know he can communicate with crows?” Reed didn’t know if it was true, but he’d read something about the man attempting to do that somewhere on the Internet.
Her eyebrows inched higher, and her lips bloomed into a smile that transformed her entire face like a flick of a switch—a dark roomsuddenly bright with light. Her eyes crinkled at the corners. Her cheeks rose and flushed with color. The expression was so welcoming, so warm, he couldn’t help but smile back.
“I did not,” Evelyn said. “How very fascinating. Are you certain it’s crows? It might be ravens. They’re technically more intelligent.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s crows. I’m Adrian by the way.” Reed stretched out his hand and she took it, pumping it vigorously.
Just one more,he told himself.One more and I’ll be done.
Evelyn Nash would be the last.
He’d spotted Evelyn while sipping a martini in the Plaza in New York City of all places. He’d been relaxing before attending a charity gala for neglected animals or homeless kids in Africa—he couldn’t remember which, only that it was some bullshit event where women with too much money went to play at being philanthropic—when he’d noticed her on the television screen hanging over the bar.
Evelyn clung to her father, Donald Nash, as he hollered at a bunch of reporters to clear away from his car. She had limp, dull hair and hands that were swallowed by the sleeves of a too-large sweater. Her eyes were glued to her feet as her father tugged her through a swarm of press shouting questions about the latest Nash Logistics earnings report, Donald roaring right back, red-faced. Reed hadn’t known her name at that point, had only known the woman appeared terrified and awkward, but the gears in his brain were already turning as he googled her.
The daughter of a shipping tycoon.
A woman with sad eyes who seemed empty and lost.
Someone who looked incomplete.
I can complete you,he’d thought.I can do that. And then I’ll disappear forever.
Reed didn’t know exactly when it had happened, but he’d grown tired of conning. There had been so many women: Tara Knowles, the fashion boutique owner who’d financed her Main Street Kentucky store with Daddy’s money because she’d been too lazy to go to college and make something happen herself. Jennifer Stewart, the high-end realtor who cut deals on closing costs for her rich friends but charged full price to everyone else. All the others. The Rachel Dawsons and Lacey Graysons of the world who thought the universe revolved around them and expected every man in their orbit to do the same.
There had been so many identities, too—all the driver’s licenses, passports, birth certificates, and credit cards. All of the names, the changes to his appearance and mannerisms. The surgeries. He was forever running, constantly waiting for someone to recognize him and shout for him tostop!Waiting for the police to pound on his door in the middle of the night and order for him toopen up!
All the personalities. All the lies.
So many lies Reed didn’t even know who he was anymore, knew only that he was tired. The game—which was exactly how he’d thought of it until now, as a game—had lost its appeal. But that didn’t change the fact he still needed money, still had to survive. So he kept going, kept telling himself the next job would be his last.
It never was. The paydays didn’t last long enough. The people he contracted to help him disappear and then be reborn—Happy Birthday, Reed! Welcome to the new you!—were incredibly expensive to employ. Nothing about what he did was cheap. But it was the only thing he knew how to do. And the only thing he did well. So he kept doing it, but he was done.
It was time to move on, time to start a new life and do something different. He’d thought about it for so long now. Maybe he’d open a bookstore somewhere and spend the rest of his years lost between the pages. Or maybe he’d start a coffee shop where he could listen to his customers talk about all the small, unimportant problems in life as heforgot about his own. That sounded nice. Anything other than this. But first, he needed one more score. Abigscore. One last target he could really sink his claws into and tear free enough cash to set him up for life.
Someone exactly like Evelyn Nash.
Chapter 37
BAILEY
“It’s not too late to change your mind, you know.”
Ben’s words fill my ears as I gaze through the windshield at the terminal. A thrum of traffic surrounds us, airport shuttles and buses buzzing past in rapid succession. My body aches with the sound. Something no one tells you about surviving a car wreck is this: Getting into a car hurts. Literally. Any time I do, I feel my ribs pulse along the fracture lines like they never healed. Any time my foot touches the floorboard, I hear the snap of my shin and crunch of my ankle. My shoulder aches whenever I reach for my seatbelt like my tendons are about to tear all over again.
After the wreck, I did everything I could to avoid driving. In the early days, I relied on Ben to get me to my PT appointments. When he couldn’t help, I called an Uber. I had all of my groceries and alcohol delivered. All of my pills. Back then, I couldn’t imagine ever driving again. The first time I tried, I wound up sitting at a stop sign with a barrage of horns piling up behind me for who knows how long. All I could see in that moment were the headlights of Evelyn Nash’s black BMW X7 heading straight for me, ready to re-break my bones.
After a wreck as bad as mine, getting into a car is war.
What I’m about to do is worse.
“Seriously, Bailey,” Ben says. “Say the word, and we’ll go. I’m here for you. You don’t need to do this.”
I twist toward him, his face tender, his forehead dimpled in concern. My heart cracks. I want to be able to tell him he’s right, that he can help me through this. But he can’t. And he shouldn’t have to. Since my suicide attempt, things have been rocky between he and Owen. I’ve overheard their phone calls, heard the strain in Owen’s voice muffled through the speaker when they talk. The two of them are a rubber band pulled to max tension; if I stay between them any longer, I have no doubt they’ll snap.
Besides, I need to do this. Ihaveto. If I don’t, I know the darkness will pull me back in just when I’m starting to glimpse the light. And that light is Reed’s destruction.
“My baby brother, always looking out for me,” I say, reaching over to place my hand on Ben’s cheek. “I’ll call you as soon as we land.”
