Page 28 of The Triangle

His eyes dart back and forth, scanning me again. “Why would he send me to get you, Christine?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, he called me. He told me where you were. He told me to go get you. Why? Why would he do that?”

“To keep me safe?”

“Or maybe… it was to get us both together in the same place again.”

“To what end?” I ask. “To hurt us?”

“That’s what he does best.”

I can’t anymore. I just can’t deal. My shoulders slump and I bow my head and stare down at my bare feet. “Why does he have to be here for you to admit you love me?”

“I don’t need him to admit that. I love you.”

“Then why—”

“Because the timing is wrong, OK? Just… just heal a little. Let your memory come back. Let me figure out what’s going on. Put together an escape plan. We’ve got all the time now.”

“That’s such a fuckin’ lie. There’s people after me. You too. I don’t know how you control yourself. How can you not want to take everything you can as quick as possible before the fucking timer runs out? We could be dead tomorrow—”

“We won’t be,” he says, brushing the back of his fingers against my cheek. “We’re a team, Keene. The best team there is. We’ve passed all the tests. We’ve crossed all the finish lines. This is just a victory lap as far as I’m concerned. One last task before we take the trophy and go the fuck home.”

I draw in a deep breath, hold it for five seconds, and then let it out. “Yeah,” I say. “Let’s just go to bed and kick this world’s ass tomorrow.”

He leads me down the hallway to the bedroom. Points to the bed and takes off his shirt.

Jesus.

My eyes start at his shoulders and follow every curve—every hill and valley of muscle—as they travel down his body. Linger on the tattoos that run the length of his arms. Pause to watch him unbuckle his belt, unbutton his pants, and drag the zipper down as he kicks off his boots and steps out of his jeans. He stands there for a few seconds trying not to grin as I study the way his boxer briefs hug the corded muscles of his thighs.

“Now get in and scoot over. I’m gonna hold you all fuckin’ night, OK? Never let go once.”

I sigh, then do as I’m told.

Because the moment the comforter flops over us and his arms gather me up, everything is right in my world.

Everything.

CHAPTER ELEVEN - DANNY

I met Alec at a boxing gym that ran an after-school program for hood kids like me. I had Christine in school by then. I took care of a little problem the liquor store owner down on Seventh had with thieving kids and instead of paying me in money I got him to take Christine over to the junior high school and register her as an incoming homeschool kid.

You wouldn’t think something like that would work but then again, if you’ve been in the system as long as I have, you would. And it did.

We were living in a pay-by-the-week motel down on Juniper Avenue and by this time it was starting to feel like home. Which sucked and felt pretty good all at once. At least it was ours. We had heat, hot water, TV with a few cable channels, and free wi-fi that mostly worked.

I managed to graduate a semester early the previous December. That was the deal I made with Christine. Or, rather, the deal she made with me. She’d go back to school if I finished.

So fuck it. I signed up for one of those remedial night schools for asshole thugs, did the work in between jobs, and there you go. My part of the deal was done. I’m sure she came up with that idea because she thought I’d never do it, but she was wrong. And even though I had to drag her out of bed every goddamned morning and threaten her with anything from slave labor to jumping on a bus heading down south to live on the beach and leaving her behind, she did get up every day and go.

So that’s where she was when I wandered into the boxing gym that fall morning.

I was a sort of regular. I knew pretty much everyone, so the guy in the ring trading jabs with a big guy called Curtis caught my eye immediately.

Even then—all sweaty, eye swelling shut from the blows he took from Curtis’ meaty fists, breathing hard like he was about to collapse—I knew he didn’t belong here.