When I Say Yes (Necklace Trilogy 3)

“What kind of dirt?”

“I’d rather you not know in case you ever have to testify to that effect.”

My hand goes to my neck. “Good Lord. I almost married him. How bad is it?”

“Dirty and ugly. But it works for us. This plan, this solution, works out well for him and us. He leaves. We get rid of him. And while I’d prefer to let him wallow in his fear after finding out he’s been exposed, while freaking out over what comes next, I want him out of our lives now, not later. We can choose war or peace, Allie. I choose peace for our sake, not for his. If he still chooses war, the gloves are off and I promise you my bare-knuckle brawl is better than his.”

The problem with this statement is that he’s convinced this will never come to that. I, on the other hand, am not. Brandon’s devious. He’s the devil. I’m not sure he’ll leave the country. Will Dash win a war? Yes. Will Brandon hurt him in the process? He might, and that’s my fear.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

“The greater our knowledge increases the more our ignorance unfolds.”

–John F. Kennedy

That quote was in a high-profile book I once edited on the history of the presidency. To me, this translates as a willingness to be dumb and blind, and therefore, we have an excuse for being ignorant. It’s a form of hiding, as is running. I decide that the only way to quell my fears over Brandon lashing out at Dash is either by way of time passing without trouble ensuing, or by arming myself with knowledge, which I’ve always considered a form of power. Therefore, I focus on knowledge.

I read Dash’s entire interview, starting with the rapidfire questions.

Q: What, or who, inspired Ghost?

A: My work experience, a love for movies, books, and an obsession with both the Bond movies and Dexter. Bond is a larger-than-life character, but he is almost too perfect, and a bit sterile, an emotionless machine. Dexter, on the other hand, IS emotionless. He’s a killer, after all, but somehow the writers make you root for him. That’s brilliance. When you can make a viewer root for a killer, you’ve honed your craft.

He’s absolutely accurate and he could be speaking of himself. Dash has honed his craft. He created Ghost, an assassin, a cold-blooded killer, and managed to make us all root for him. That requires a gift, a magical way of crafting words. He’s a warrior with a pen, but he’s also a warrior for those he loves. And yet, his father would have us all believe he all but shoved his brother behind the wheel of a car and forced him to drive drunk. I will never believe such a thing.

Ever.

I move on to the next question and forget about seeking knowledge to fight Brandon. The next question is: What scares you, Dash?

A: Mushrooms. They’re disgusting.

It’s a slick answer that is no answer at all. Death scares him, and not his own.

I keep reading, and by the time I’m done, I recognize how much Dash’s words, both dictated, written, and spoken, speak to me beyond the surface. I understand him. I know him beyond what I’d know of any other person I knew for the exact amount of time.

I don’t realize how long I’ve been absorbed in a short-written interview until Dash sets a cup of coffee in front of me. “Thank you,” I say, glancing over at him.

“Any suggestions?”

“None. You handle reporters with the same finesse you have in writing a book. How in the world did you make this happen so quickly?” I ask.

“Bella,” he says. “I mentioned being willing to bare-knuckle brawl. She’s a pretty good bare-knuckle brawler herself. But my father’s predictability helped. I knew he wasn’t behind that bullshit signing. I also knew he wouldn’t let Brandon get away with setting us up, either. As for the rapidfire speed to go along with the rapidfire questions, I did the interview all on text and email today at the coffee shop.”

He jumped through hoops, and guilt stabs at me. “Thank you, Dash. And I’m sorry again about all of this. I should have dealt with him properly and none of this would have happened.”

“You have nothing to thank me for or apologize for, Allie. As for Brandon, you owed that little bastard nothing but goodbye. This isn’t your mistake, it’s his, which is why he’s about to get the shit scared out of him. He’s not your father. The two situations are not the same.”

“They’re both things I ran from. I didn’t finish the story.”

“Yes, you did. You wrote the ending. He tried to change it. What would you have done differently with Brandon?”

“Besides never saying yes to anything with him?” I ask, without expecting an answer. “I don’t know,” I add. “I guess nothing.”