Page 66 of Fractured Hearts

“Sorry, Jeanne,” I tell the elderly owner. She has shock-white hair in the style of a cotton ball and so many wrinkles you’d think she was the same age as this house. The plaque on the front of the Victorian Era mansion states it was built in 1885. Sometimes New England feels drenched in ancient magic, and if this woman and house are the same age, I think I’d believe it.

“Nonsense. These old bones have lived many lifetimes. Maybe I can help with whatever you’re struggling with.”

I bite my bottom lip while I think. I can’t call Harlow because even though I know fuck-all about pregnancy, I’m pretty sure stress is bad. I already called Willa when I left the house, and they’re all on their way here. It wasn’t why I called, and I’m not positive it’s a great idea, but I can’t be alone with this right now. I can’t break like I want to or Maverick and Ezra will suffer. Will die. That can’t happen. I won’t let it.

Taking a deep breath, I lower myself onto the pink floral couch next to Jeanne. “I’ll start from the beginning.” I tell the old woman everything from the moment Ezra saw Gianna’s murder to his disappearance. I tell her about when I started working for Maverick and the band and Patrick’s involvement as their fake manager. I just let everything spill, not sure if I’m hoping she’ll find some answers in this mess that I couldn’t or if saying it out loud will help somehow.

“I still don’t think Patrick’s obsession with me makes sense. Everyone is assuming he just traded his obsession from Eva to me, but I don’t really believe he was obsessed with her either.”

“Hmm,” Jeanne hums, tapping her chin with a red-tipped, gnarled finger and frowning in concentration. She’s probably thinking what everyone else did when I mentioned it, that Patrick had my pictures everywhere and a doll that resembled me. The evidence is there, and I’m in denial. I probably am, but I can’t shake the feeling that I’m missing something. “Could be a distraction from whatever he’s actually up to. It seems strange they found his apartment so easily after he fled.”

“Exactly!” I exclaim, maybe a little too excited to have someone to discuss this with. Ezra wouldn’t hear it because he thought I was trying to make a case for leaving the safe house, and Maverick said it didn’t matter because he wouldn’t risk me if we were wrong. The thought of what they could be going through right now stabs at my heart like a hot knife.

“What’s the motive? If Eva is gone, what does he need you for?” Jeanne asks.

It’s a question I’ve been asking myself a lot. There’s a chance he doesn’t have one, and he’s just insane, but I don’t think that’s true. Revenge seemed plausible for a moment, but there’s been nothing to corroborate that either. There’s no evidence that he was anything to Eva other than an employee. A lot of assumptions have been thrown around and that’s dangerous in situations like this.

“You said Eva knew Gianna was dead this whole time, yet she was insisting Maverick marry someone. Who was that? Is it possible Maverick has remained the target and Patrick could get whatever Eva was promised?” Jeanne asks, and my eyes go wide. We never figured out who it was that Eva wanted Maverick to marry since he was refusing, and there’s no way anyone of us would let it happen. Could Patrick have taken over Eva’s operation? He was her right-hand man, but he doesn’t have any of the political connections she had.

“Maverick’s the target. He’s always been the target,” I whisper in horror. The day Jason’s house blew up, and Ezra took me to the cliff house runs through my brain. He should’ve grabbed Maverick like he had tried to do in the first place. This is my fault. I’ve been used as a distraction for Patrick to get what he wants. Harrison’s insistence that they only stay in a hotel for a single night must be what kept him safe this long.

“It would seem,” Jeanne agrees.

“I need to find him!” I jump up from the couch and make it as far as the front door before I realize I don’t even know where to start. “Fuck!”

“Come, dear. I’ll make you some tea while we wait for your friends. You said one is a detective?” I nod, unable to correct her that Harrison is a former sheriff, but I don’t think it matters. I let her take me by the hand, hers so warm and strong around my shaking ones. “He’ll know where to look.”

He better. I’ll burn this fucking world to the ground to find him. To find them both.

sixty-five

EZRA

The first thing I’m aware of is how cold it is. I’m so fucking sick and tired of being cold. Getting hypothermia once was enough. I had a winter jacket on, but whoever hit me seems to have relieved me of it. The second thing I notice is the smell. I wouldn’t be surprised if I was floating in the middle of a septic tank. My other senses slowly come back online. I can hear muffled crying, but when I crack my eyes open to see where it’s coming from, there’s no light. My limbs are stiff, but I’m able to get myself into a sitting position. The ground under my palms feels like dirt and when I feel around, my fingers connect with a concrete wall. I must be in a basement. Maybe a root cellar.

My first instinct is to scream out for Maverick, but I don’t want to alert anyone that I’m awake. Jo was in the house with the guns, so she should be fine. There could be cameras in here, but I can’t see any red lights indicating night vision, so I don’t think so. The soft sobs sound feminine and like whoever it is must be trying to be quiet.

“Hello?” I whisper. I need to figure out who’s in here with me and see if they know anything about where we are. The easiest assumption is that Patrick grabbed us and took us somewhere, but I need to verify.

The cries stop suddenly with a small gasp. Maybe she thought a dead body was tossed in here with her.

“I won’t hurt you.” I try to keep my voice calm and low, even though every part of me wants to beg her for whatever information she has. “Was anyone else put in here with me?” I’m met with nothing but silence. I think about getting up and feeling my way to where the crying was coming from, but there’s a chance if I scare her more, I’ll never get answers.

“My name is Ezra. I was taken from outside my house along with my boyfriend, Maverick. I think the man who took us is probably named Patrick. If there’s any information you could give me on where we are, who is here, or if you’ve seen anything, I would really appreciate it.” I hold my breath, hoping that being honest will get whoever is in here with me talking. There’s a sigh and some shuffling.

“She’s been looking for you just as long as she’s been looking for me.” The voice comes from my left, closer than I thought. She sounds raspy and exhausted.

“She?” I ask. “This isn’t Patrick?” The stranger scoffs.

“Him, too.”

My mind races. Did Anderson betray us and Eva is still alive? Maybe he’s just getting revenge on me for allowing his sister to be murdered. Not that I could’ve done much to stop it from happening, but I don’t think revenge cares about the details. I probably deserve it anyway. Hopefully, that means Maverick isn’t here and is safe somewhere.

“When’s the last time you saw Eva?” I ask.

“Could’ve been weeks or hours. Time doesn’t mean anything here.”

“Did you see her when I was brought in here?” I ask. At this point, I’m just gathering information. I’m not sure this woman has much since it seems like she’s been here so long that the isolation and lack of light have caused her to lose any perception of night and day.