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Chapter Ten
Alex
A few days after that dreadful collection incident, I’m standing on the lawn of Coach Neill’s house, inhaling the perfumed scent of freshly sprouted flowers. The breeze tickles the bushes nearby and inspires them to rustle loudly as the wind tosses my hair around my face. The place is empty. I can tell before I even step on the porch.
No cars occupy the driveway. All the curtains are drawn. The gardener hasn’t been by even though the flowers look gorgeous. I can tell by how the plants aren’t aligned with each other, and the bushes are growing past their trim point. Regardless, I knock.
Because I have to try to find her.
When no one answers, I drift back to my car, staring intently at the house. I learned how to shoot in that basement. She gave me a gun as a gift, hoping that it would protect me. It’s the same one I’ve been carrying to all of my debt collection appointments, the handle of it so firm in my palm that it brings me comfort just to hold it. Maybe that’s because it reminds me of her.
And what reminds me of her reminds me of my father.
Returning to my vehicle feels weird, but I do it without hesitation and drive toward Thasos, hoping a little time on my boat will clear my mind. Security tails after me at my request, the only thing that Amos could ever convince me to do. Going anywhere with guards is a poor idea at this point and one that will surely bury me if I don’t at least try.
Everything Coach Neill taught me would just go right out the window. And why would I want to disappoint her like that?
If I haven’t already disappointed her.
I park in the first available space, wait for my security team, and then head toward my boat, smiling when the familiar dinghy speedboat greets me with a gentle bob. Once my team has secured their own boat and can trail after me, I hop into mine and speed off, letting the window whip my hair behind me as I ride the waves.
The water is choppy today. A large ship is anchored away from the pier, appearing brand new. It makes me think about the yacht party—and that just makes me think about Lev. The memory of his black-coffee scent, his honey-glazed dark eyes, his spiky brown hair, and his corded muscles makes me blink tears from my eyes.
My throat tightens as I choke on a sob, slowing my boat down as I cover my mouth with the back of my hand. I know I’m alone, but I don’t want to cry over this. Not now. It’s too late to be crying like this.
Just the thought of him makes me want to run. My gaze flickers toward the pier, the same one where he died in my arms while trying to speak to me. But I can’t afford to do that. I have to be strong for him. I’m fucking stuck here, so I might as well do what I can.
To think that I was close to connecting with Tomas like I had with Lev causes me to slow down even more. I bow forward and shake my head, willing away all the awful thoughts that surface. Guilt, shame, fear—it coalesces in my body, creating such an awful hurricane that I’m sure I’m going to get consumed by it.
I draw a deep breath as I listen to the steady sound of waves lapping against the boat. My body moves with the rhythm, rocking me gently while I close my eyes and try to imagine the path ahead. It’s wrought with all sorts of challenges, but it’s nothing that could possibly break me. I’ve already been through the wringer.
With what I’ve survived, I can’t fathom what could break me if the things I’ve been through haven’t. No death or broken heart could drag me out of the race. I’m certain of that now.
Love will have to wait.
My eyes pop open and I focus on the water, turning the boat around to head back to the pier. I’m done running and sulking in the shadows. It’s time for us to stop the defensive and start the offensive—and that means trusting each other.
While the others might resist the idea, I realize it’s our only hope. One of our strengths is the fact that we know each other deeply. How else would we be able to wound each other so strongly? We need to stop being scared and make others afraid of us.
It’s the only way forward. I can see it now.
As I pull up to the pier, my security team creates a perimeter on the boardwalk, each of them waiting for me to get out of my boat so they can accompany me to the parking lot. A man wearing a black fedora and a large shawl far too hot for such a spring day lingers nearby. He adjusts his sunglasses and motions for me to walk over to him.
I roll my eyes. “I don’t have any money for you.”
“I don’t want your money, Alex. I want a word.”
My eyebrows shoot up as I push past two of my security and whisper, “Osmond?”
“Hush, girl. Not so loud.” He slides the sunglasses down to look at me. “I need you to do me a favor.”
I cross my arms over my chest and huff. “I’m not banging you.”
“No, I want you to contact my son.”
“What?”
He groans. “I know you have your phone. Text Parker and tell him to meet me here.”
