Page 122 of The Risk Taker
She slides her hands up to stroke my cheeks. “Okay. I’ll be here, though. Whatever happens.”
“Thank you,” I breathe, resting my forehead against hers.
Tomorrow, everything could change. All I can do is pray for it to change in a way that doesn’t rip Jude from me for good. Because if I go to jail, I won’t allow her to wait for me. The thought of her wasting her life for me is worse than anything else that could happen. It was selfish and reckless of me to come here and put her in the middle of all this. It was a risk I’ll never forgive myself for taking if it all goes wrong and she gets hurt.
“I’m going for a walk. I need some air before I’ll be able to sleep.”
Jude nods. “I’ll keep the bed warm for you, yeah?”
“You do that, New York City. I won’t be long.”
“I’ll be waiting, Cowboy,” she hums.
I lower my lips to hers and we take our time kissing one another with a slow tenderness, savoring this moment, because we both know that after tonight, anything could happen.
I didn’t know where I was headed after I left Jude’s place. I just walked. And now I’m here, standing on Brooklyn Bridge at two in the morning, looking out at what used to be my home.
The view is staggering after all these years. I used to look up at the towering skyline and feel pride and excitement, knowing my family owned some of these buildings, and I was a part of something incredible. Now all I feel is a cold detachment, no longer sure which still belong to them, and which don’t. Maybe they’ve bought more, sold others. I have no idea anymore, a stranger to what was once my family, my life.
Flattening both palms against the tall guard fence designed to keep people from falling—or jumping—into the water below, I peer down into the blackness, wondering what’s a worse way to die, burning or drowning.
Pain tears at my chest as I picture Jude disappearing beneath the surface in front of my eyes after she went off that cliff edge. Then there’s Mom. What if she was still alive when I ran back with her EpiPen? What if it was the fire that killed her? The thought brings me no relief. Death by fire. That must be the worst. At least in water, there’s a kind of calmness there. At least there is for me.
“Fuck!”
I slam one palm against the fence before looking up at the night sky. I have to face my family tomorrow and I have no idea how to do it. How do I walk up to them after three years and look them in the eye knowing what I did? How are they going to be able to look at me? Maybe they won’t. Maybe they’ll tell me to do us all a favor and disappear. What would I tell Jude? I promised her I wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye, but there’s no way I’d subject her to living a lie in hiding like that. No damn way.
Tires screech behind me, a flash of headlights rolling over me before pitching me back into shadows.
A door slams and a deep voice calls out, “You died on water once. Don’t do it to them again.”
What the hell?
Heavy footsteps make their way toward me as I spin around. A giant guy in a dark suit walks toward me.
I narrow my eyes as the stern face of my father’s head of security comes into focus.
“Denver?”
“Slade,” he clips.
The back of my throat goes dry. Until Halliday earlier today, Jude’s the only person who’s called me by my real name in over three years. I never thought I’d ever hear it again from someone who knew me back then.
“You found me.”
“Once I knew it was you we were looking for.”
“Halliday?”
He nods.
His jaw is set and rigid as he regards me without a hint of emotion on his face. That was always one of his strengths and something I admired. I could never beat him at cards because the guy can guard his feelings like they’re a matter of national security. All those years in the military gave him that skill.
I don’t need to ask how he found me. The guy has magic powers once he knows what he’s looking for. He could have been following me for days and I wouldn’t have suspected a thing. He’s probably the only one who understands what it’s like to live in the shadows. Except, his reasons are so he can do his job. Mine are so I don’t hurt anyone.
“So, you and my sister?” I say, choosing to silence the glaringly obvious questions that are threatening to burst from me.
Do they all hate me? Should I climb this fence and jump? Would they toss me over themselves given the chance?
