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“I love you. So. Much.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Jane

“Ma’am.” A security guard approaches me as I walk into the lobby. He’s tall with a mop of black hair. “It’s not safe…”

“Take me to the hospital,” I demand. “I want to sit outside Christopher’s room.”

“Ma’am, it’s not safe. Mr. Hart is…”

“I know where he is. Wait, do you know where he is?”

The man stands up straighter, attempting to turn his face into a mask.

“Lily,” I say, and the man flinches.

“So you do know,” I go on, my thoughts rushing. “If you know, that means he’s got backup with him, which Sergei said not to do, which means…”

My conscience threatens to collapse as I think about all the sick things Sergei could do to Lily. I think about an early moment before Axel barged into our lives when we were watching a movie on the couch together, eating ice cream. A small thing, but I thought, This could be it, the start of a friendship. Whatever else is true about her, she doesn’t deserve the evil things Sergei and his mob goons would do to her.

“I can’t talk about that, ma’am.”

“Yes, you can,” I say, staring firmly at him. “The fact is, Luke and I are in love. We’re in a relationship. We’re going to be married one day, and if you don’t tell me what’s happening right this second, I swear to God I’ll find a way to get you fired.”

He opens his mouth, and I step forward, knowing it’s not fair talking to him like this, but there’s nowhere else to aim my rage, and I have to know.

“No excuses. I need to know where he is. Tell me. That’s it.”

When he does, it doesn’t settle my nerves much. So they have a plan. It doesn’t mean it will work.

All during the car ride to the hospital, I’m tapping my legs anxiously, as if mimicking fingertips tapping across a keyboard. I remember this is why I’ve always thought programming was simpler than people. If this was code, I could rework it repeatedly until it functioned as it should. There would be no Sergei, mob, or fallout from my future husband simply trying to do the right thing.

When I get to Christopher’s room, a woman stands. She’s older than me, on the thinner side, wearing a baggy shirt that highlights the look. Her hair is pulled back, and her eyes are bright red pits as if she’s been crying. There’s a police officer outside the room, presumably for protection.

“Who are you?” she asks, glancing at the security guard by my shoulder. “Hey, Jimmy.”

“Hey, Lois. I’m so sorry.”

“He’s hanging in there.”

“I know he’s going to pull through.”

Suddenly, I feel out of place, but then I explain who I am to Lois. We sit together, and she cries softly as I tell her about Lily and her warning, about Axel, about all of it.

“Christopher saved Luke’s life,” I whisper. “He was so brave. He ran right in front of Axel. He never hesitated. I’m so sorry.”

“None of this is your fault,” she says, then hugs me. “That sounds exactly like my Crissy, always so brave since high school. We were sweethearts, you know. This year…”

She gets choked up. I do my best to comfort her, gently massaging her shoulder, and then she says, “This year, we’ve been married for seventeen years. People often say the magic will go with time. The feeling won’t last forever, but for us, they were wrong.”

We sit silently, embracing, and I can’t stop thinking about Luke. The world’s going to be wrong about us, too. The feeling will never fade. The age gap doesn’t matter. I’m not using him for money. All the assumptions people make will disappear in the light of our love and belonging.

Us. If he comes back… He will come back. He has to.

I focus on Lois instead, gently holding her, trying not to think about all the hundreds of things that could go wrong.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Luke

I walk into the bar, shouldering the duffel bag on my good side, and relieved when I see that it’s just Sergei and Lily sitting in the corner—not a bar full of mobbed-up goons ready to engage in some serious violence.

Lily’s hair is matted and slick, and her eyes are pits of fear. She’s wearing clothes, and they don’t seem torn. Hopefully, a knock on the head is the worst she’s experienced.

More than anything, I’m picturing the look on Jane’s face if I have to tell her that Lily died here. I failed. Sergei executed her in front of me because Jane will hold that in her conscience. She won’t be able to let it go.

Sergei stands, a gun casually aimed at Lily’s head. Lily stands in time with him like a puppet on strings.

“Where’s the bitch?”

I’d beat this man until his face was even more of a mess if it wasn’t for the gun in his hand. He’s already got three scars on one side of his face, and his nose looks like it’s been broken several times. His hair is mussed, and his suit looks dirty. He’s a nasty man capable of all kinds of evil.

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