A couple of other workers come to the door a minute later to grab all of my bags. They take me down the elevator to the lobby, and I walk through the back door of the Bellwood for the final time, into the alleyway.
Cameras flash from the edge of the alley as I step out, the lights blinding me.
“Logan! Headed to the airport?”
“Oh my God, it’s him!” a girl’s voice comes from the gate behind the alley. “Big D!”
I don’t feel like I’m in my own body. It’s like I’m comingup for air after being underwater, and this world feels so different to where I’ve been.
This is my life.
As I slide into the back of the black SUV, I feel something shift in my back pocket.
I reach into it and realize there’s a paper in there.
I pull it out, unfolding a small, cream-colored piece of paper.
He must have shoved it in my pocket when he gripped me there, before leaving.
My chest clenches as I hold the paper.
It’s a drawing of the rooftop.
A little sketch that has everything. The view of the city. The neon sign, across the street. The black access door, and even a tiny bottle of Scotch sitting on the ground.
There are two figures there, standing at the edge of the roof, looking out at the world below.
One figure’s head is resting on the shoulder of the other. They look like they belong together. Like they make sense. Like they have everything they want.
There’s a note scrawled above it in the sky.
Thanks for bothering me.
I didn’t want you to, and I’m fucking glad you did.
X
- C
CHAPTER 10
CHASE
ONE YEAR LATER
Yeah, I’ve fucking lost it.
And I’m not even a little bit sorry.
Tonight has felt like being pushed out of a plane, suddenly, wondering how the fuck I gotonthe plane in the first place, and praying that there would be a parachute on my back as I plunged down toward the ground.
Except worse.
Or better.
Because skydiving couldn’t possibly make my heart drop through my chest in the same way that Logan Stone does.
I pace back and forth on the rooftop, trying to feel nothing.
