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On the sidewalk outside the Bettencourt International headquarters, I turn left. I’m supposed to turn right. That’s where I parked my car.
It doesn’t feel right. Going anywhere I’m supposed to with Bettencourt and his people watching feels like being strangled. I can’t breathe.
I can’t escape my body, either. I keep trying, but fear yanks me back in. It’s miserable. I’m overheated and freezing at the same time. I can’t get the metallic taste out of my mouth. If I could just get out of this alley—
If I could just get home.
That motherfucker. Bettencourt’s never going to let Elise go. She only believed he would. She thought she was making a life for herself, and he made a mockery of it. I hate him for letting her think she was free, and I hate him even more for trying to trap her again.
It’s not safe.
Any room he’s in is not safe. The man is a murderer. There’s no line he won’t cross. That’s what I saw in his eyes. All he wants is money and power. He won’t stop at other people’s parents. If his own family gets in the way, he’ll remove them, too.
If I do this, it has to be all of them. Every single member of the consortium. Because if one of them is left to carry on Bettencourt’s work, she’s in danger.
IfBettencourtgets out of this alive and I don’t, she’s in danger.
I stop by a wall between two stores and lean against the brick. I hate the feeling on my back.Hateit. But I can’t drive home like this, and I’m not going to leave my car in Bettencourt’s parking garage. Part of me wants to. Part of me wants to abandon theSUV. Walk away. Anyone could have touched it while I was gone. Fucked with it somehow.
If I leave it, that’s a guarantee. Someone will find it eventually. If it’s after my death…no. That would be too easy. The vehicle will belong to the consortium when I die, but fuck if I’m delivering it to them on a silver platter.
That fate is too good for my SUV.
But it’s acceptable for you?
My breath catches. I’ve wished every day since my mother died that she was still alive, but right now? For this? I’m glad she doesn’t have to see it.
Several deep breaths, and the street comes back into focus. The traffic. The sun is setting, but it’s not dark yet.
I still have time.
And I need it now. This was supposed to be a simple matter of revenge. Of forcing a corrupt, criminal business group to collapse. To implode. To burn down to the ground.
Now there are questions that have to be answered first.
If I’m gone, who will protect Elise?
It doesn’t matter that she doesn’t love me back. How the fuck am I supposed to leave her?
10
ELISE
Workingat the bakery usually has a calming effect.
Yes, it’s penance. But it’s also about delicious food.Morethan delicious food, really. The stirring and the frosting? They’re a meditative act. I spend hours decorating cakes I know will be demolished in minutes. That doesn’t bother me. The moment of joy people feel when they see the cake of their dreams makes every stroke worth it. That’s why each job takes as long as it takes. I’m making up for the past, and I’m making something beautiful while my thoughts settle and my heart calms.
It’s not working today.
I keep feeling like someone’s watching from outside the windows. More than a few times, I make an excuse to go out front and search the street. But there’s nothing I can see out there.
That doesn’t make it better. It just makes it worse.
I’m suspicious of everyone who passes the store. A woman walking her dog. A couple jogging by. A man moving a Boy Scout trailer laboriously down the block.
Any one of them could be watching.
It would be easier, honestly, if I could see some guy in dark clothes with a telephoto lens. At least then I’d have proof. I’d know this feeling wasn’t just in my head.
