Page 115 of Rough Hard Fierce (Chicago Underground 1-3)
“He’s not here,” I said. His eyes met mine as he caught the finality in my tone.
“Oh,” he said.
“Yeah.”
He glanced behind him before stepping inside. In t
he living room he gave Bailey a curt nod of introduction. She gave him the cryptic message, “bagel,” before turning back to her show.
I poured him a cup of coffee, and we sat down at the dining room table.
He contemplated the black liquid. “Was it because of…”
“Yes,” I said. Colin had left because of what had happened that night. I’d fucked up, or he just didn’t trust me anymore, but either way it was over. “You really like her, huh?”
He glanced up, his eyes hooded. “Who?”
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.”
“What did she say about me?” he asked cautiously.
“She said—” She said you two had never had sex, paid or otherwise. It made me wonder why you’d never paid for it if you like her. But then, we all have our hang-ups. “She said you guys weren’t a couple.”
“Yeah,” he said flatly. “I guess that’s right.”
“Did she move there for you? In with Philip?”
He paused, then shrugged. “I never know why she does what she does.”
“But you think it’s your fault she got shot,” I mused.
The guilt that flashed in his eyes said I was right.
“If it’s any consolation, I think she likes you back.”
“Thanks.” He grimaced. “Could be worse, right?”
We sat there, both of us rejected, trying to imagine what could be worse. Aside from death or grievous injury, there didn’t seem to be much, but that was the kind of morning it was. The morning after a breakup.
“There was something else. We found this at the site. Shelly told me it was yours.” He pulled an envelope from his back pocket and slid it over to me. I didn’t even know how he’d sat down with that in his back pocket, it was so thick. I recognized it, of course. It was filled with money, unless someone had taken it.
“It should all be there,” he said. “But you should count it.”
I didn’t even know how much had been in there to begin with, how much money Colin had wanted to give me so that I could run away with Bailey after betraying him. Flicking open the flap, I saw the green, crisp bills.
Blood money, or was it? No, it wasn’t born of hate or violence but something nicer. Andrew had started the little fund when he’d given me the money he’d been going to use for the lawyer. Then Colin had taken it, only to return it at the warehouse with even more money. They’d both wanted me to be safe. I slapped it shut.
“I’m sorry about the way it happened,” he murmured. “And about my partner. He was a troubled person. Not that I’m making excuses for him.”
“What do you mean was? What is he now?”
He looked surprised. “You didn’t hear?”
Oh God, Colin, what did you do? “Tell me.”
“He got hit by a car. Dead on arrival.”
“When?”
