On one ofmy previous visits, I once drove the goat-trail the state of Colorado calls eighty-two. There had been a mudslide outside Glenwood, so I had to. It was barely a lane-and-a-half wide in parts. An Amazon delivery truck was coming the opposite way, and I was certain I would end up in the ravine. It’s the most treacherous road I’ve ever driven. I can see how Blake fell prey to someone determined to push him off the road.
The downside to retiring is that I have no access to search criminal databases. I should have called a former co-worker or Marshal Clemmons. I should have kept my focus on finding and stopping the threat.
Instead, I dropped my guard. Anyone could have seen us at the club. I counted on Eliot’s team to keep us safe while I seduced my wife, Enzo’s target. The connection I have with Amy is undeniable. Our passion eclipses every other one of my experiences. But I forgot what was at stake, and now Blake might die. Might already be dead. If I’d been awake, I would have pulled him back and insisted he not follow the guy. Hell, if I hadn’t been having my wicked way with Amy’s naked body, Enzo would have had nothing to take a picture of in the first place.
All tied up in Amy, in rekindling or just accelerating our relationship, I failed to consider what could happen to my friends. They dropped everything to come out to Alabaster and help me because I asked. And what did I do? I spent my time figuring out how to get inside my wife. That isn’t worth Blake’s life.
It occurs to me that Blake might have snapped a picture of the license plate of the car he was following. His phone is at the bottom of a cliff in a mangled car with too much of his blood. But if there’s a cloud backup…I can’t ask Eliot about that now. The only thing I should worry about is getting us safely to the hospital.
Then I’ll get my head in the game and find the fucker or fuckers who did this. Stop the threat. Get us to a place where Amy is safe, and the guys can go home. My passion for Amy won’t change, but it can’t be the priority. Nothing could have made that more obvious than the events of tonight.
There’s a reason the company forbids fraternizing with the witnesses. The minute I violated that sacred rule, truly fucked it sideways, everything went pear-shaped. I’m the one who shit all over that rule, but my buddy is paying the price.
Please, just let him live.
From this moment on, I will be laser-focused on finding the asshole who did this and making it as right as it can be for my brothers. Guys I brought out here to back me up to do the job, not so I could fuck Amy. From this moment forward, everything else is on hold. Even Amy. I glance in the rearview mirror and meet her sweet brown eyes. She drops her gaze.
Even she realizes I fucked up and didn’t keep my team at the forefront of my focus. It’s unforgivable. I manage to get us to the emergency room in one piece. The building is huge, a series of brick cylinders clamped together. It’s still dark, and the parking lot has an eerie glow from lights posted sporadically. Stone pulls into an adjacent space, and we troop into the emergency room exit through the wide sliding glass doors. If I didn’t know better, I’d think we were in an airport or a bank lobby. Eliot approaches the staffed window, but none of us look for a seat.
Amy says something, but I don’t hear it because Eliot is coming back from talking to the staff.
“Blake’s already in surgery.” Eliot grips the back of his neck. “They only told me that because I’m his employer and have all his insurance information. They opened up a bit when I tugged the purse strings. But they didn’t tell me anything about his condition except that it will be hours before we know anything. I explained that we are his co-workers and his family. I have a medical power of attorney in his employee file if it comes to that.” Eliot crosses his arms.
“Did you explain we aren’t going anywhere without him?” Cade asks.
Eliot grits out, “In little words.”
“I’ll find the restrooms,” Stone says. “And get the Wi-Fi password. You stake out that area.” Stone indicates a group of chairs set apart from the main walkway that has a view of the doors to the interior of the ER. But Blake is already in another part of this circular maze, in surgery fighting for his life.
Please, God. Please let him make it. I know I don’t deserve to ask you anything. You probably don’t even recognize my voice, but this is Blake I’m asking for. He’s one of the best people I know, and it will break some of the other best people I know if he doesn’t make it.
I have to ask. It’s the only thing I have left. I haven’t felt this powerless since the entire cart of chaos got set in motion with the death of Enzo Brambilla Sr.
It’s time to find Junior. He came out here to do the job himself. We’ve been letting him come to us. I scroll through my recent calls and hit dial.
“This is Gabe.” The man sounds exhausted. I check my watch and wince.
“Sorry for the extreme morning call. This is Tyler. Amy’s…husband.”
“No problem, I was awake. What can I do for you?” Gabe’s a good guy, lying about not waking him up.
I give him the short version of what’s happening. “There is one thing you can do to help.”
“Name it.”
“Amy said you and Katherine were asking if the local innkeepers had any big single guys staying with them.”
“Yeah, nothing came out of that.”
“Can you ask again, but see if any of them have any guests from Illinois? East St. Louis, to be specific. Or St. Louis, Missouri.”
“I’ll make the calls. The only person we haven’t heard from is the former president of ABBA. The B and B association. But she’s not fond of Katherine or me.”
“I’m familiar with the association.” Since that was the flag that spurred him to drop everything and come to Alabaster.
“Deborah, the current president, was supposed to call her yesterday, but I haven’t heard back. I’ll follow up in a couple of hours.”
“Thanks, man, I owe you one.”
