She nodded with a playful grin.
“Fuck.”
Her laugh sounded good. “I think you secretly want me to bring one home.”
I shook my head and caught her eye, seriousness taking over. “Elle, I’m fine. I know I’ve been in a bit of a funk and preoccupied with getting to the bottom of this drug ring over the last two weeks, but that’s why I need to get away. Everything is spinning and nothing is making sense. I just need to forget about my grandfather, Tommy, Patrick, about everything . . . even if it is only for a couple of days.”
Those green eyes, whose magic had spilled out into my life and changed it from a world of black and white to one where color actually seemed possible, looked contemplative. “It’s just that I don’t know if now is the right time.”
She’d been worried about me. That I wasn’t going to recover from my grandfather’s death. Sure, I’d been distant. Quiet. Gone a lot. Tracking endless leads taking me nowhere. Going on wild goose chases that only brought me back to the starting point. In my defense, my mind was constantly thinking and my body had to keep moving. It was how I coped. But I was Killian McPherson’s grandson, and he’d roll in his grave if he even sensed I’d let his death keep me down for too long. I looked over at her. I couldn’t believe how much I needed her. I couldn’t lose her. “I’m fine, or I will be as soon as all of this is over. Just hang in there with me. Give me some time to figure it out.” I was determined to find out who the Priest was and what his connection to O’Shea was. I felt like it was a big puzzle and all of the pieces fit in there somewhere.
Tears seemed to fill her eyes. “I’m not going anywhere. And it’s not time that worries me. It’s you, going out there alone. Let your friends help you.” Her worry over me was evident. She didn’t like me going out on the streets on my own. Neither did Miles. Or Declan. I got it. Still, it was something I thought I should do by myself. But looking at her now, and after two weeks of getting nowhere, I knew it was time to stop being reckless and start being smart.
Climbing down the ladder, my grandfather’s voice came to mind. It’s not how you fall, Logan, he used to say, it’s how you get up that matters. Distancing myself from everyone hadn’t been on purpose, but his death had been a shock. The funeral was brutal and ever since, I’d been on a rampage to get to the truth. Every day I’d had to face the daunting reality that he was gone—because of me. It was harsh and tough to face. But my determination to make his death mean what he wanted it to mean—the freedom of my old man—was what had kept me grounded. Freeing my old man from the DEA was still on the table and that was what kept me moving forward, searching, looking, forging through all the shit. Even when it got me nowhere.
My old man surprised me. He was stronger than I’d ever thought he was. Somehow, he managed to stay away from the bottle. I knew it would take time for us both to truly accept that Killian wasn’t around anymore, but we both would in our way. We were the blood of a very strong man, after all.
As for why Patrick offered the swap of lives in the first place, that was pretty evident. Now up on RICO charges, his power was quickly dwindling, and getting rid of Killian was a power-play move. I’m sure in his own twisted way it somehow made him feel stronger, even behind bars, to have the authority to order a hit on the ex-mob boss. I’d made sure to put a crack in his shield, though. Let information slip on the streets that both Patrick and Tommy were going soft, turning state’s evidence against the gang. It was as much a lie as it was the truth, but I didn’t care. I wanted him out of play. Over the past two weeks the Blue Hill Gang had dismantled—every guy taking what he could and leaving town, or at least laying low. There had been no activity from any of them. Blanchet owed me one because chances were good that the Blue Hill Gang would completely dissolve very soon.
The information Tommy had told me about O’Shea still couldn’t be validated in any way. I had no idea if Tommy was telling the truth about his relationship with Lizzy, but my gut told me that it was at least partly true. Still, there were holes in his story. Mainly, how did Tommy know about the hit on my grandfather if he was out of the loop? Why would Patrick have told him? To gain his trust? To test him? Or was it possible someone in the organization leaked it to him? I had to find this out. It was key to trusting what Tommy had told me.
Then again, if I really thought about it, more than likely Tommy had killed Elle’s sister and wanted me to spend my time chasing something that wasn’t there. He wanted me to lose my mind thinking about Elle with Michael and wonder if he might do to her what he’d done to his wife. That was much more his game than the fact that a woman had stolen his heart and he wanted to avenge her death. No, he knew that was more my thing.
Regardless, I needed to get back inside to talk to him. See what I could find out about this Priest, but Miles couldn’t make it happen. I guess Tommy had spent a good two days in the clinic, and the explanation that it was a self-inflicted injury wasn’t holding up well with the higher-ups.
The only lead Miles had on where the Priest was located was where the drug deals were taking place, and that turned out to be a dead end. The cokehead Miles had found pointed out three buildings on the waterfront where the deals might have gone down. They all looked alike. No specific location could be identified. Absolutely no fucking help at all.
I wanted more. I wanted to know who the Priest was because (A), if I provided that information, Blanchet would remove my father’s name from all of her files, and (B), now this was personal and I just fucking wanted to know.
The problem was that he was a ghost. The Priest was known on the street, but no one knew his true identity or where to find him.
It was early Saturday morning and Elle was trying really hard to make sure I stayed off the streets, so she’d asked me to help her do a few things before she opened the boutique. The ulterior motive was clear, but I didn’t care; I liked helping her and just being with her made me feel better. Besides, I’d already decided it was time to ask Declan and Miles for more help in finding the Priest.
As I glanced at her, I couldn’t help but feel she, too, had been preoccupied over the past two weeks. I could sense something more was on her mind that she wasn’t telling me. I took the last rung of the ladder and turned to her. “Well?” I asked, vowing to get to the heart of what was eating at her this weekend.
She raised a brow and pointed to the ladder behind me. “Do that again, will you?”
I laughed and for shits and giggles, played along and turned back. My cell vibrated in my pocket and I ignored it. The fun between us had all but been zapped with Killian’s death, but maybe this was the start of something even more. The flirtatious, sexy side I knew she had somewhere deep inside her was blossoming. And I really wanted to nurture what was emerging. Up on one rung, I twisted around. “You want me to go up and down the ladder so you can stare at my ass, don’t you?” I said coyly.
She flushed.
“Well?”
She stepped closer. “It is a great view from down here.”
Overjoyed, I yanked her to me and gently pulled her mouth to mine. “Answer me.”
Her body melded to mine instantly. “What was the question?” she asked, a little breathless.
Lip on lip, a gentle brush meant to be a small kiss. “You know what it was. Say yes,” I murmured with our mouths pressed together.
“Yes, I’ll go.” Her voice was low and I felt uncertainty in her tone.
I pulled back. Looked at her. Knew something was there. Waiting until tonight to talk about it sounded great in theory, but I couldn’t. “Why do I feel like there’s a ‘but’ in there somewhere?”
Elle took a deep breath and stepped off the ladder.
I followed.
She was wearing tight black skinny jeans, a gray sleeveless top, and a pair of boots. She looked sexy as fuck. “Logan,” she said quietly. “There’s something about myself I should have told you before we let things get so serious. But we went from zero to sixty and I never found the right time.”