The Distraction (28 page)

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Authors: Sierra Kincade

BOOK: The Distraction
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Forty

T
revor Marshall looked different than the last time I'd seen him. Not just because the bruise on his jaw from Alec's right hook was fading, or because he was wearing a black jacket and slacks, a change from the casual clothes I'd grown accustomed to seeing him in. His posture was too rigid, and the muscles of his face and neck were too tight, as if he'd been in pain a long time.

“Hi, Anna,” he said, voice raised over the wind. The suspender cables clanged against their anchors on the deck like a giant metallic wind chime.

“What is this?” Alec asked, edging in front of me. His fingers brushed my thigh, but his arms were still trapped behind him by the cuffs.

I glanced behind us to not just one, but two utility vans marked with a giant paint can and the words METALCOAT PAINT. Trevor must have come in the other one. They were spotlighted by the overheads posted on the beams above, the only vehicles in sight on this eerily empty bridge.

A muffled scream came from a shadowed barrier on the edge.

“Amy?” I launched myself forward but collided with Alec's back as he blocked my way.

“You bastard!” I shouted around him at Trevor. “What did you do to her?”

Trevor ignored me now, refocusing his hate-filled gaze on the man attempting to protect me.

“Alec Flynn.” He stepped onto the street, the soles of his shoes crackling over the asphalt, until he stood an arm's length away. Angry red marks were now visible on his cheek—four parallel lines that were clawed all the way down to his neck.

A second before he swung it was obvious what he was going to do, but though Alec jerked back, he had nowhere to go because I was standing too close behind him. Trevor's fist cracked against his jaw, and the reverberation that went through his body shoved me a step back.

“What are you doing?” I demanded, my voice shrill.

“You don't deserve her, you stupid bastard,” Trevor said.

Slowly, Alec righted himself, and for the second time that night spit blood on the ground. He took a step closer to Trevor, and lifted his chin, giving him the chance to strike again.

“Tell me something I don't know.”

“Stop it,” I said, fearing for a moment that all this was about me. I looked around again, but no one was coming. No one could see us, arms bound. See Trevor with his bloodied fist, or the two men standing quietly beside the open van, guns in their folded hands. We were all alone.

“The bridge is closed,” said Trevor. “No one's coming. Except maybe the painters.” He motioned to the utility van behind me.

My stomach sank. Vaguely, I remembered reading something about this—the Sunshine Skyway bridge being closed for renovations.

“Where's Stein?” Alec asked.

“At home, I suppose,” Trevor said.

I couldn't tell if he was being honest—if Stein was actually behind this or if he was acting alone.

Trevor held his hands out to his sides. “You know what's crazy about this part of the bridge?”

No one answered.

Trevor's arms lowered. “It's the only place not covered by a video feed.” He pointed in the direction we'd come. “That way is covered.” He pointed the other direction. “That way is covered. Pretty much every inch of this bridge is covered, except for a width of fourteen feet where we're standing right now.”

Trevor shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels.

“Do you know how I know that?”

Amy cried out again, and it took everything I had not to fall to my knees and beg for him to free her.

“Because there's a one-point-eight-second blackout on the security footage that doesn't show Robert Calloway hitting my sister's car. But he did, of course. And that caused her to swerve”—he was motioning with his hands, moving them back and forth like a swimming fish—“and eventually crash through the barrier and free-fall four hundred and thirty feet into the water below.” He stared at the new concrete on the barrier twenty yards away.

I didn't have to close my eyes to see the woman's face as it was in my dreams. Trapped beside me in the seat of the car, red hair floating in the water as the car dragged us farther and farther under.

“You're Charlotte's brother,” said Alec.

My head was spinning. Stein wasn't here. Trevor wasn't Trevor, nor was he Amy's date, Jonathan. He was someone else. Charlotte's brother.

“She broke her neck on impact with the water,” Trevor continued, so quietly I barely heard him. “But it's hard to say if she survived that and drowned. I can't imagine anything worse than not being able to fight for your life while your lungs are filling with liquid. Actually feeling yourself die. Can you imagine that, Alec?”

“Trevor . . .” I swallowed, starting to tremble so hard my knees were knocking. “Let Amy go. Let us go. We'll straighten this out.”

“Yes,” said Trevor, dazed now. “Yes, we will.”

He strode back to edge of the bridge. Terrified, I watched as he untied Amy. Now that she was in the light I could see the gag across her mouth, and the glistening tear streaks that ran down her cheeks.

I tried to shoulder past Alec again, but he twisted into me, taking me to the ground. The impact radiated through my hip as I fell hard on my side.

“Stay down,” he commanded.

“He's going to push her over.” I scrambled to my knees. “He's going to . . .”

Trevor dragged Amy over by the wrists, bound in front of her. She thrashed against him, eyes bright and wild.

I climbed to my feet. The relief was only temporary; he hadn't thrown her over, but he still hadn't made his plans clear.

“Please, Trevor,” I begged. “She has nothing to do with your sister.”

“You should stop calling me that.” Pain slashed across his face. “My name's not Trevor. It's William. William MacAfee. I'm sorry I lied to you. I know how much you hate that.”

He didn't know the meaning of hate. It cut through the horror like a knife.

“Let's talk, William,” said Alec, steering the focus back on him. “You obviously went through a lot of trouble to get us here. Why don't you let the ladies go, and we'll hash this out?”

Trevor—
William
—jerked. He was strung too tightly, not at all the hardened criminal Reznik was.

“If I wanted to talk, I would have scheduled an appointment with our lawyers. No, I don't want to talk. I'm done talking.”

“Then what do you want?” I asked.

The man I'd once thought of as a friend tilted his head to Alec. “I want justice.”

Amy tried to shake free, but he seemed completely unfazed. His grip held fast while she wriggled like a fish on a line.

Alec stepped forward reactively, and we both stilled at the harsh metal slide of the gun behind us.

“I wouldn't,” said Reznik.

“She talked about you,” William said, still glaring at Alec. “She said you were going to help her. But you weren't, were you? You knew the plan was to ruin her,
kill
her, all along. That's why you weren't there the night she died.”

No. Alec wasn't with Charlotte the night she died because he was with me. Making love
to me
.

Alec's shoulders fell, as if William had just increased the load he carried tenfold.

“I tried to help her,” he said.

William MacAfee shook his head hard, as if refusing to believe what was said.

“You
didn't
try.” His voice was loud enough to make me jump. “You may not have pulled the trigger, but you killed my sister, and now you're about to walk free. No consequences. No punishment. It makes me
sick
.”

“There are consequences,” Alec murmured.

I stared at Amy, who was trembling so hard I could see it. She stared at me, pleading and terrified. Not for her own life, I knew, but for her daughter's.

“Yes,” said William. “There are consequences.”

Eye for an eye,
he had once told me.
That woman on the news that was driven off the bridge? Someone should make the guy who's responsible jump.

I knew then what he intended to do.

The driver grabbed Amy and hauled her to the van. My black hair whipped across my face as I turned to watch him toss her into the back and slam the door shut.

“What are you doing with her?”

“She'll be fine,” William answered. “We have a deal. If she keeps her mouth shut, her daughter will be safe.”

A wave of hopelessness descended over me. Paisley wasn't safe for long with Mike. And what did Amy have to defend them? A thin apartment door with a dead bolt? A single visit to a women's self-defense course?

This was my fault.

My fault.

I'd let this happen to my friends because I was careless. Because I loved Alec. And because I still loved him, the guilt fogged my senses, so thick I could barely breathe.

The van's engine revved, and then the driver made a turn in the middle of the street. Slowly, it disappeared down the steep incline in the direction we'd come. While I watched it, I thought about running out beyond the fourteen-foot window that William had mentioned, but it would only waste precious time.

Before I could think of another option, Reznik kicked Alec behind the knees, and he hit the ground at William's feet.

He didn't beg. He didn't cower. He strained against his cuffs, hands white and wrists red.

“Your sister was a good woman who tried to do the right thing,” he said calmly. “And your project—the Green Fusion project—it was brilliant. If I'd been in charge I would have paid any price you asked to be a part of it.”

“Shut up,” said Trevor.

“Let Anna go.”

Reznik raised the gun to the back of his head.

“No!” I raced toward him, and found myself on my knees as well. I leaned into his body, feeling his labored breaths. His muscles flexed so hard, I thought he might be able to break through the cuffs.

“Wait. William, think about this.” The words jumbled out. “You need Alec to win the trial, that's the only way Maxim Stein stays behind bars.”

Jacqueline Frieda had told us Charlotte's brother's case was at a standstill. Surely he had to know that Alec was his best shot at beating the man responsible.

From the determined look on his face, William didn't care.

There was nothing familiar left about him. This wasn't the guy I'd met at the gym, who'd joked about my dance classes and come to the salon for massages to help his marathon running. This was a desperate, sick man who'd carefully planned every meeting with me, and every meeting with my best friend, just to get closer to Alec.

How had I been so blind?

The gun cocked.

“Anna, close your eyes,” Alec said quietly. “You're going to be all right, baby. Just close your eyes.”

Forty-one

“I
t hurts already, doesn't it?” William asked. I glared up at him, hating that he could possibly feel anything remotely close to what I felt right then. But he'd lost his sister, and there was no hiding how deep a hole she'd left.

“It never stops,” William said. “You'll understand in time.”

He reached beneath my arm and hauled me to my feet.

“No,”
I shouted, just as Mike had taught me. I hoped someone could hear me. Anyone.

I kicked. I bit. I threw myself into him, and then away, trying to throw him off balance.

“Anna!” shouted Alec. “Anna, listen to me. No more fighting.”

William elbowed me in the throat, effectively shutting my windpipe. My mouth opened, but nothing came in. Not for what seemed like minutes.

With a roar, Alec rose, charging toward us. There was a shot, and the gravel at my feet sprayed across my legs. If I'd had the breath, I would have screamed, but as it was only a tight groan slipped out.

It was a warning, one that stopped Alec in his tracks, shoulders heaving. His head dropped, and that scared me more than anything else had on this awful night.

He was giving up.

“I'll shoot him if you don't stop,” William hissed.

“You'll shoot him anyway,” I said.

“No.” He shook his head. “You were right. I need him for the trial. I've lost, I understand that now. I don't even have the money to keep it going after I pay Mr. Reznik. Alec's testimony is the only thing that will keep Maxim Stein in jail.”

I tossed my hair back, but the wind blew it forward again.

“Testify, don't testify. You have a hard time making up your mind.”

Trevor laughed at this, then his expression turned grave.

“He had the choice to keep his mouth shut and serve time for what he did. He chose the easy way out.”

I stared at Alec, teeth bared in a tight grimace. His arms were still bound behind him, and the wind billowed beneath his shirt to show a strip of skin above his pants. The barrel of Reznik's gun was still pressed between his shoulder blades, but he hardly seemed to notice.

It didn't exactly look like the easy way out.

“Let her go,” Alec repeated.

William dragged me over to the edge. My side smashed against the concrete as I tore my eyes away from Alec's to look out over the black water beyond. It seemed to catapult toward me, destroying my sense of depth. Dragging me down.

Four hundred and thirty feet, William had said.

My arms were bound. I couldn't even hold on to this cold stone ledge.

I turned back at the sound of a scuffle on the pavement. Alec must have tried to escape again; he was now lying on his back on the ground, bleeding from a gash at the top of his forehead. Reznik was yelling something I couldn't make out over the drumming pulse in my ears. His knee was digging into Alec's broken ribs, but there was nothing Alec could do with his arms stuck behind him.

“He needs to watch,” said William. “If he doesn't, this was all for nothing. There was no point in dragging him away from the FBI.”

My world slowed.

Alec would live, but I would die. That would be his punishment. As if Charlotte's death wasn't enough. As if losing everything he'd worked for—his job, his self-respect—wasn't enough. William MacAfee would make him suffer this as well.

I thought of all the times William could have taken me. We'd been alone at the salon, at the gym, in parking lots and out in town. But it wasn't enough that Alec just hear about what happened to me. No, Alec needed to
experience
it, firsthand.

William turned toward me and I was filled with a strange sense of calm.

“If it's any consolation,” he said, unable to meet my eyes, “I did like you, Anna. I wanted you to leave him. I asked you to, remember? At the salon?”

He wanted to believe this. I saw it in his rapidly blinking eyes. But he struggled.

“You'll regret this,” I said. “You think it will make it right, but it won't.”

“You're probably right.”

An idea sparked in my mind. I lifted my gaze to Reznik, my hate for what they'd done to Amy, Paisley, all of us, blending with my fear and my shame. He scratched his goatee, as if he was ready for this to be over.

“I will pay you twice whatever William MacAfee's paying you if you stop this. Let us all walk free.”

He smiled.

“A little late in the game for that, isn't it, Ms. Rossi?”

I leaned forward, away from the cold ledge.

“I don't know how much he's paying you, but I promise you, I can get more.”

William scoffed. “She's a masseuse. She barely makes enough to cover rent on a tiny apartment.”

Reznik's hand lowered. “How's that?”

“Alec,” I said. “He's about to be worth over a billion dollars.”

Alec jerked. “She's right.”

“If he told you that, he lied. He's worth nothing.”

“Not yet,” I said. “But a lawyer contacted him. He's a shareholder, and if he wins the trial and Maxim Stein is convicted of fraud, Alec will own Force Enterprises.”

Which would probably be worth nothing at that point, but I wasn't about to say that.

“He's going to win,” I assured him.

Reznik considered this, or at least he seemed to. A second later his face went blank again, and he started to laugh.

William gave a shaky sigh.

“It won't hurt,” he said, grabbing me around the waist and hoisting me up. My fingers clawed the ledge. My heels hooked around concrete lip. In the struggle, I leaned back, and nearly toppled over.

The fear froze me.

Close your eyes.
Alec's words echoed in my head.

I looked at him one last time. At his beautiful face. I could still feel the scruff on his jaw against my cheeks and his lips brushing mine. I could still feel the way his strong body held firm, and then finally yielded when we came together. He was inside of me, and I would hold him there until I took my last breath.

I closed my eyes.

The shot echoed through my body, but though I braced for the pain it never came. William's grip on me loosened, and then slid away.

He fell to the ground, a bright rose of blood blossoming in the center of his chest. His green eyes turned up, desperation turning to panic, while behind him, Reznik lowered his gun.

I could hear nothing but the rushing in my ears. See nothing but William—Trevor—grabbing at his chest as if he could scrape the bullet away with his fingers.

I crumbled to the ground.

Before I could sense if he was still breathing, two more shots came.

I screamed. Ten feet away, standing over Alec, Reznik toppled forward, landing facedown on the asphalt.

“Tampa PD!” boomed a male voice. “Hands where I can see them!”

Though the voice sounded vaguely familiar, I couldn't focus on it. My gaze was pinned to Alec, now rising back to his knees. Though his eyes raced over my body, he didn't move in my direction, nor did I go to him. I couldn't. It felt like I was watching him through a wall of glass.

“Anna? You all right?”

From around the remaining van, a young, dark-haired man in jeans and a black polo appeared. My breath came in one hard whoosh when I recognized Marcos behind the barrel of his still raised gun.

“Yes.” There was hardly any volume to my voice now.

“Are you injured?” he called, making his way first to Reznik. There didn't appear to be any other cops with him, and he wasn't in uniform. My head must have still been a little fuzzy; this didn't make sense.

“I'm . . . I'm okay.” The back of my head pressed against the concrete barrier behind me. Three feet away, William groaned, his chest rising and falling with fast, shallow breaths.

Marcos knelt down to check Reznik's pulse, giving Alec a quick nod. “Emergency services are on their way.”

“Is he . . .”

“No. He's gone.” He moved closer, eyes flashing over me quickly as he pressed his fingers to William's pulse. “This one's still kicking though.”

It shouldn't have comforted me, but it did. As awful as this night had been, I didn't want William dead, especially because of something I'd done.

“How did you know we were here?”

Marcos wadded up the front of William's shirt, and pressed it against the wound.

“The burner phone.”

I felt it against my thigh, tucked in the lower side pocket of the cargo pants. I'd completely forgotten about it once Agent Tenner had been dragged from the car.

“I told you I'd check in on you,” he said. “Thought it was a little strange you went to hang out on a closed bridge so late at night.” He paused, and turned his head, then looked back to William, below him. “Hear that, man? That's lady luck heading your way. Which is a lot more than you fucking deserve.”

Did Marcos just swear? I had clearly been transported to some alternate reality. None of this made any sense.

I heard what he had then—sirens blaring from the shoreline. When I looked down the ramp I saw the flashing blue lights. I was surprised at how close they were; the wind must have blocked the sound.

“Amy,” I said, chest clutching. “She was in the van with one of Reznik's men.”

“She's in my car,” he said. “The driver's in custody.”

His words renewed my strength, and in a surge I pushed myself back up the wall. My arms were complete pins and needles now, but I preferred that to the complete numbness of my hands.

“How long you been like that?” Marcos asked, nodding to my arms.

“Too long. I think Reznik has the keys. Front pocket.”

He grabbed Trevor's hand and pressed it over the wad of fabric on his chest. “Hold this. I'll be right back.”

Before Trevor could muster an answer, Marcos sprinted to where Reznik lay. He found the keys without trouble and hurried back. In moments, my arms were free, but they felt as heavy as lead. I stood before Alec, rubbing my wrists and trying to flex my hands from the perma-claws they'd become while Marcos worked on the lock.

He kept staring at me with that same, guarded look I couldn't read. I told myself it was the stress. He'd nearly seen me die right before his eyes. He probably assumed he was responsible.

It was more than that, though. I felt it all the way to my bones.

The cop cars flew up the bridge. One after another, followed by an ambulance. They reminded me, like they always did, of my father.

I couldn't help but wonder what he'd think if he saw me here right now.

When Alec's hands were free, Marcos returned to William to continue providing first aid. Chaos roared around us—shouting policemen, wailing sirens, medics checking us both. But we never moved closer.

“I have to see Amy,” I said when he finally opened his mouth to speak.

I didn't look back. I walked down the bridge, dodging past anyone in my way. Two more police cars were at the bottom with their lights flashing, parked beside the gray utility van. A woman with blond hair sat in the open passenger side of one, while an officer stood beside her, just outside.

I ran then, as fast as my legs could take me, until I reached Amy. I tackled her in the front seat, bruising us both in a dozen places from the impact.

“I'm sorry,” I sobbed. “I'm so sorry. Where's Paisley? Does Mike have her?”

“Yes,” she answered quietly. “He took his mom and the girls to his house. I just spoke with her. She's okay.”

I backed away, holding her hands in mine.

“Are you?”

She smiled wanly. “Talk about bad taste in men, huh?”

“Amy.”

“I was doing a pretty good job kicking his ass before he gagged me.” Whatever humor was in her voice deflated. “He came into my house. He saw my little girl.”

I collapsed outside the car, and pressed my forehead against her knees. I thought of the scratches on the side of William's face, and what she must have been through tonight.

“It's over now,” I said.

It had to be. It was one thing to threaten me. It was another thing entirely to hurt the people I loved most.

She stood, and pulled me up, and we hugged for a long time, until she finally stepped back.

I followed her gaze to where Alec stood, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

“I'm going to get Paisley,” she said.

“Wait,” I told her.

I walked to Alec, growing colder and colder with each step. By the time I reached him I was trembling. He must have seen it, there was no way not to.

“Are you okay?” He didn't reach for me. Didn't try to hold me. If he had, maybe things would have been different.

I nodded. “You?”

He stared at me.

“Amy? Paisley?”

“They're fine.”

Silence. Infinite silence. Black hole in space silence.

“I'd follow you anywhere,” I said. “Willingly. Blindly, if I had to. But they didn't sign up for this.”

He nodded.

My heart betrayed me. It ached so hard I could barely keep on my feet. I loved him like I had never loved anyone. Like I would never love anyone again. But something had been broken tonight that couldn't be fixed. I couldn't keep being the object people used to hurt Alec. Even if I could stand the pain, I couldn't handle how much it hurt him.

But more than that, I had promised myself I would never let Amy and Paisley be victimized again, and here I was, leading them straight into danger.

“I can't do this anymore.” My voice was steady, but my insides were rattling. I wrapped my arms around my chest.

His eyes, once filled with such tenderness, went dark.

He didn't even fight.

He didn't fight for me.

He didn't fight for us.

“I know.”

Those were the last words he said to me.

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