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I nodded. I did know they were coming, courtesy of the detective I’d had on my payroll for the last year and a half. Not that I needed a heads-up for this visit. The club was one o
f my few legal businesses. They would find nothing here to cause suspicion or tie me to any of my other, less legitimate business ventures, but the notice was appreciated.
It hadn’t always been like this. I hadn’t always been like this. There had been a time when I’d tried my hardest so that I would never end up as what I was now—a dirty, despicable, drug-dealing, car-stealing scumbag who cared about nothing other than where the next opportunity would take him. Back then, when I was Jamie Cole, a person trying to make something of himself, I would never have gotten so blind drunk that I smashed up my office and fell asleep not knowing if it was salt or drugs that speckled my table. Back then, I had hope; now, not so much.
I was almost out of this life once. Three years ago, I was a mere few hours from casting off my past and flying into the sunset with the girl of my dreams. But one night had changed all of that. One night had ripped my world apart. Oh, how different my life could have been.
The night before my girlfriend, Ellie, and I were due to give up everything and tour the world together, I had one last job to do for my old boss, Brett Reyes. Just one last job and then I was out for good. It sounded so simple. It wasn’t. Things took a turn for the worse just hours before I was due to pick Ellie up and go to the airport. Police raided the meeting place, resulting in a shootout, and every fucker from Brett’s organization and the rival Lazlo organization we were there to meet was either killed or arrested.
Somewhat unfortunately for me, I’d been arrested rather than killed. In a lot of ways, it would have been better if I hadn’t made it; at least then I wouldn’t have had to call Ellie and crush her dreams. My death would have spared me the gut-wrenching agony of having to lie to her and break her heart so she wouldn’t know that her boyfriend was being sent back to jail like the scumbag he really was. Ellie deserved better than to be a convict’s girlfriend, visiting once every couple of weeks, carrying that stigma around with her while she waited for me to be released. So I’d done what I felt was right. I’d set her free.
Losing the only thing you care about can change a person irrevocably.
Thanks to my lawyer, Arthur Barrington, instead of spending the remainder of my youth behind bars, I served just under a year and a half.
I was astounded to get out and discover that Brett Reyes, having no children of his own, had named me his sole beneficiary, making me director and CEO of three companies that amounted to a multimillion-dollar enterprise. The club that I was currently fighting my hangover in the back room of, the security company I’d headed before being sent down, and his shipping and haulage company were all left to me, as per his wishes.
I could have gone straight and run those companies to the best of my ability, really made something of myself. But after giving up Ellie, I had nothing left to be “good” for. So when one of Brett’s old contacts approached me about an opportunity, I grasped it with both hands and never looked back. I was much better at being bad, and it was what everyone expected of me anyway, so why not embrace the darkness? So, for the last year and a half, since my release from prison, I’d immersed myself in the life I once fought so hard to get out of, and I excelled in it. “Go big or go home”—that was my motto now. And I definitely went big.
“What time is it?” I grunted, pushing myself to my feet, gripping the arms of my chair when the world slanted to the left. I’d definitely overdone the booze last night.
Dodger glanced down at his watch. “Just after ten.”
I blinked a couple of times and nodded, trying to right my head. The tip I’d received said that the police would be making an appearance during lunchtime. Meaning I had a couple of hours to fix my office and make it look like a whirlwind hadn’t blown through it last night while I was drunk.
Dodger put down the trash can and turned to face me, his eyes showing his concern. “Ray told me about Ellie’s parents. You want to talk about it?”
I frowned and shook my head sharply. “No.”
He recoiled slightly but nodded anyway. “If you change your mind, you know I’m here for you.”
I didn’t bother to reply. I hadn’t wanted to talk about it before, so why would I start now? I reached for my phone, picking it up from my desk and brushing off the salt that dusted the screen.
Opening it up, I saw four missed calls and one new voice message, all from Ed. Jabbing at the voice mail button, I rubbed my forehead, waiting for the message to start.
“Kid, I have that info that you asked for. Call me back.”
I frowned. Information I asked for? My brain whirled, trying to piece it together. I couldn’t remember asking him for anything—unless I’d done it last night while intoxicated. Ed was my go-to guy for the jobs I didn’t have time to do myself. It made sense that I’d ask him to do something, but what it was I had no clue.
As Dodger walked out of my office, carrying a full trash can, I dialed Ed’s number, hearing him answer on the second ring. “Kid, hey, you got my message, finally.”
“Yeah, what’s going on? What info are you talking about?”
“You called me late last night, asked me to find out about that girl, the one with the dead parents. You don’t remember?”
I groaned. So in my intoxicated state I’d called him and asked him to stalk Ellie. Perfect. “Yeah, I remember,” I lied.
“Right. You wanted to know if she was coming back. Well, I asked a guy we have in London to keep his eye on her. She left for the airport there early this morning. He watched her check in for a nine a.m. flight to New York. According to the flight number he gave me, she’s due to land at JFK in a couple of hours.”
My chest tightened. I’d expected her return stateside, but not so soon. I’d barely had a chance to prepare myself for it.
“What time will she land?” I croaked.
“Twelve twenty-five.”
I nodded, my headache growing. “Okay, thanks.”
“Kid, one more thing,” he said, just as I was about to disconnect the call. “She checked in by herself. Her fiancé went to the airport with her, but she got on the flight alone.”
Alone? She was fucking alone? Toby had let her fly, grieving and emotional, alone? Motherfucker! My teeth gritted, anger churning in my stomach. I hung up on Ed and shook my head, trying to clear some of the murderous thoughts. How could he let her make the trip by herself? She’d just lost her father, her mother was in critical condition—he should have been by her side the whole time, wiping away her tears, supporting her. What a fucking cocksucker!
I’d never exactly been fond of Toby Wallis—he had my girl, after all—but I’d respected the guy because he loved her; he’d made her smile again, gave her everything she needed. That much I’d found out easily enough when I got out of prison. The undercover surveillance in the form of Ray’s sister-in-law had stopped once the girls parted ways when Ellie decided not to return home with Natalie after a year of traveling together, but I’d put other measures in place after that. A private detective, hired to check in on her and report back to me periodically.
By the time I’d left prison, the private detective had provided evidence that Ellie was happy, that she’d recently moved on, that this Toby Steal-Yo-Girl Wallis was actually good for her. Background checks on him revealed he was a decent guy with no criminal record, a thirty-three-year old divorcé with two kids, and a hard worker. Toby was the sole reason I hadn’t booked the first available flight and gone to her, confessing everything and begging for her to forgive me. But now the fucking prick was letting her fly alone? Maybe he wasn’t as decent as I first thought.
* * *
Two hours later, I stood in JFK’s international arrivals terminal. I hadn’t been able to help myself. Dodger could deal with the police raid on his own. I wasn’t sure what my plan was. All I wanted was to see her, hold her, and drive her safely to wherever she wanted to go—probably the hospital, as that’s where the rest of her family would most likely be.
I stood to the side, away from the crowd, leaning against the
wall of a Starbucks, watching, waiting, my hands twitching with both excitement and sheer terror.
Ellie’s plane had arrived safely, so right now she was probably making her way through customs or baggage claim.
When a collective jostling and fidgeting of the waiting relatives and loved ones started, I straightened, holding my breath, and looked eagerly in the direction they were all smiling in. Small groups of people wandered out, pushing their luggage carts, grinning, waving, squealing excitedly as they spotted their friends and families.
I waited, my heart in my throat, and then there she was.
The air rushed out of my lungs in one big gust at the sight of her dragging her suitcase behind her.
Ellie didn’t smile; in fact, her lips were pressed firmly in a straight line as she looked around, stopping off to one side to tap away on her cell phone. Her copper-colored hair fell around her face in messy, untamed tangles. It was shorter than it had been the last time I saw her, now cut just above the shoulders. My eyes dragged over her while a familiar ache, a longing settled over me. She’d put on a little weight since I last saw her, her hips and legs a little thicker, her cheeks slightly fuller, her tummy no longer flat as it had been when she was a cheerleader, but the changes suited her perfectly. She looked as beautiful as the day I met her and still took my breath away.
When she looked up and scanned the room, searching for something or someone, I noticed the dark circles under her eyes and pain filled my chest. She looked exhausted, both physically and emotionally.
