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“Yeah.”
“Obviously, you know my leg is healthy. All activity is fine. There are a few aches and pains once in a while, but I have all strength back. Mentally, I’m healed, too. I call my counselor every few weeks. Not about anything specific, but he was a cool guy and we became friends. Nightmares are gone. Ember makes me talk about the guys that died.”
Finn’s head snaps up. His face clouds with worry.
“Believe it or not, it helps. We don’t talk about the actual accident, only the guys. For so long, my memories were erased and replaced with what I saw that day. Now, they’re back. Instead of relating their names to death, I think of the good times.”
Five sets of eyes stare at me in wonder.
“What?”
“She’s a miracle worker. Even your fucking therapy never got you this far.”
“We gonna pour some wine and talk about guys, or can we get back to poker?”
Finn deals another hand, while I steal a look at Ember. She’s staring at me with a gleam in her eyes. I know this look, and I share the sentiment. I love her, too. Little do I know that loving her will cause me the greatest heartache in my life.
Chapter 42
D-Day
Ember
Stay calm. This is almost over. I repeat those words to myself as I wait on the small bench outside the restaurant. Dade decided to change locations instead of sending Bart to Clyde’s. At first, I refused, but he followed up with a picture of Declan and Raven walking out of the OB-Gyn’s office. Regardless of my hesitancy, I agreed.
Once again, I struggled with the idea of telling Robbie what was happening, but when Natalie was beat up, I kept my mouth shut. Dad told me Natalie claims innocence, saying she was jumped. He’s unsure of her involvement, but I believe her. Dade somehow got to her. It also served as a reminder to me that he means business. He said he would ‘deal’ with her, and he did.
The small restaurant is settled among some large warehouses. There’s a good flow of traffic and pedestrians, so at least I’m not in an abandoned area of town. My pulse races when I watch Bart walk in without acknowledging me. Seconds later, the phone buzzes with a text.
/> Meet Bart inside.
My knees shake and stomach twists as I walk in the door and spot Bart.
“Guess you do have to see me again, sweet cheeks.” He gives me the creepy smile and jerks his chin, indicating for me to follow.
Confusion sets in when he walks me through the kitchen and out the back door. I stop in my tracks.
“Where are we going?”
“Dade wants to meet you.”
“I’m not going in there.” I point to the warehouse in our path. Rape, torture, and death all come to mind. I may be naïve, and questionably stupid, but I’m not ready to die.
As if he can read my thoughts, Bart tries to reassure me. “Rape and murder aren’t really my thing.”
“Excuse me if I’m a little hesitant to believe you. How do I know what’s waiting for me on the other side of that door?”
“We aren’t the mafia, Ember. We run a legitimate business.”
“Isn’t your business in Alabama?”
“We’re branching out. Let’s go.”
“No, I’m serious. This may be D-day, but it’s not that D-day. I don’t want to become a statistic.”
“Told you, we aren’t into that.”
“You set a fire. You beat up my sister.”
