“Why?” Kieran asked, a glass of whiskey resting on his thigh. “It is that simple, isn’t it? Ask her to stay. Ask her to move in. Make it a big deal for her, she’ll like that.”
“And then what happens after I do that?” Rhys countered. “I tell her to stay in the one place where she is reminded constantly of what happened to her? She doesn’t trust New York City. Her fear lives here.”
Hunt, who’d been relatively quiet so far, said, “Then, make it safe for her. Do whatever you have to do. Tell her that nothing will touch her in this city. Not when she’s with you, and while you’re at it, you get that fucker, Jake, put behind bars.”
Rhys wanted to do all that and so much more. “I can’t make that choice for her, and you all fucking know it.” He grabbed the whiskey glass and polished off his drink, embracing the burn in his throat. “If I did, I could expect one outcome. That she’d lose herself like Katherine did. That she’d change and morph into a person who could survive being here. She’d push all that trauma down for me. I can’t do that to her. I won’t. She has to decide this for herself.”
A telling silence descended onto the patio. One filled with a hard truth—Rhys had no control here. He rubbed his face, easing the twitchiness of his extremities. Then he focused on Archer, hoping he could look at this through a different angle. “Has anything further come from helping Hilary?”
Archer shook his head, reaching for his glass of scotch on the coffee table. Before he took a sip, he answered, “Not yet. It won’t be a quick process. Hilary found Zoey by chance. Finding other victims won’t be so easy. There’s no obvious trail on the web, like there was with Zoey. It’s a tiresome process, and an invasion of privacy since Hilary will have to make contact the same way she did with Zoey.”
“Stay with it,” Rhys countered. “If there is a way for me to get this handled without directly involving Zoey, then that’s the path to take. The only plan forward is getting Jake out of the picture so New York City feels safe to her again.” To Hunt, he added, “Any word on Scott’s suicide?”
“Nothing much there, except that it’s officially been ruled a suicide,” Hunt replied.
Kieran’s head whipped around to Rhys. “You suspected foul play?”
Rhys shrugged. “I would not have put it past Jake if he thought Scott would oust him.”
“He’s dirty enough to do it,” Archer agreed, swirling the ice in his drink.
“Possibly,” Hunt said after a moment of consideration. “But there was no evidence in Scott’s apartment of foul play and tons of evidence pointing to suicide. Coroner has ruled it a suicide, and the case is closed.”
On one hand, that was good news. If Scott’s life was investigated, no doubt Zoey’s story would come out. On the other hand, Jake still roamed free in New York City. Rhys blew out a frustrated breath and reached for the whiskey bottle, pouring himself another shot as his cell phone rang. After he answered, his condo’s security said, “There is a Ms. Parker to see you.”
“Send her up,” Rhys said, ending the call and sliding his cell back onto the glass coffee table. “Zoey’s on her way up.”
Archer rose. “And that’s our cue to leave.”
Rhys threw back the shot, appreciating the warmth in his veins, the lessening of the tension in his chest. “Thanks for dropping by and being a sounding board.”
Hunt slapped Rhys on the back. “We’ve got you, buddy. You know that.”
Yeah, Rhys did.
They said their goodbyes after that, and Rhys stayed on the patio furniture and watched them leave through the tall windows of his condo. Before Archer headed out the front door, he opened it a little wider, and Zoey entered. She wore jeans and a dark-green blouse, the same color as the lingerie she’d worn the first night he met her. She exchanged words with Archer and a short laugh, then her gaze flicked to the windows. She nodded at Archer before she headed toward the patio doors.
The second she stepped outside, Rhys knew he was going to hate what came out of her mouth.
“Hey.”
The single word had never sounded so sad.
He remained rooted to the couch as she slowly walked toward him, her hair fluttering in the warm breeze. Christ, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
She stopped in front of him, regret in her gaze. “I—”
“Need to move home,” he finished for her, his voice barely controlled. He wanted to beg her to stay. To not leave him. But New York City was toxic to her, and he couldn’t be a part of the problem. He’d seen Katherine fade away into nothing. This environment, maybe seeing Jake at functions she’d come to with Rhys, would do just that to her. He couldn’t watch her fade away. Zoey needed to flourish.
Something he could see written all over her face when she said in a small voice, “This is a really confusing thing because I don’t really want to leave. There’s Hazel and Elise, and…you.”
He rose, moving close, drawn to her. All along, the plan had been for her to go, but now, the plan was blown to shit. Because he knew one thing for certain: her heart was meant for him. “You deserve to go home and start over, Zoey.”
She took a step forward, bringing herself even closer. “I didn’t expect to feel like this.”
The warm breeze fluttered around them as he cupped her face. “Feel like what?”
“I don’t want to leave you,” she said so easily.