The Last Thing He Told Me

“I don’t think so,” I say.

“And what if you’re wrong?” he says. “What’s the plan? To get on a plane, go back to your life and just hope you guys are safe? You’re not safe. It doesn’t work that way.”

“How do you know?”

“Fifteen years’ experience for one thing.”

“Nicholas has no problem with me,” I say. “I walked into this without knowing anything.”

“I know that, you know that. But Nicholas doesn’t, not beyond a doubt. And that’s not the kind of wager he makes.”

“I think this is an exceptional circumstance.”

“Why?”

“I think he wants to know his granddaughter,” I say. “More than he wants to punish Owen.”

That stops him. And I can see him considering it. And I see him coming to the conclusion I came to—that, just maybe, that’s true.

“Even if you’re right about that, if you do this, you’ll never see Owen again.”

There it is, the buzzing in my ear, in my heart. Nicholas saying it, now Grady saying it. As though I don’t know it. I do know, the gravity of it running through me, through my blood.

I’m giving up Owen. I’m giving up the chance that on the other side of all this, if there is another side, things will get to go back to Owen and me, together. That it will ever go back to the two of us. I can doubt that Owen is coming home. I can doubt it, but this way I know it.

Grady pulls over, on the side of the highway, trucks racing past, the wind shaking the car.

“It’s not too late. Fuck Nicholas. Fuck whatever deal that Nicholas thinks you just made him,” he says. “It wasn’t your deal to make. You need to think of Bailey.”

“Bailey is all I’m thinking about,” I say. “What is best for her. What Owen would want me to do for her.”

“You honestly think he’d want you to pick a path where he never gets to see her again? Never gets to have a relationship with her?”

“You tell me, then, Grady,” I say. “You’ve known Owen a lot longer than I have. What do you think he wanted me to do when he disappeared?”

“I think he wanted you to lie low until I could help resolve this. Hopefully without his face ending up on the news. Hopefully with a way for you all to keep your identities intact. And, if necessary, with me finding a way to move you all so you could stay together.”

“That’s where you lose me,” I say. “Every time.”

“What are you talking about?” he says.

“What are the chances, Grady? If you moved us, what are the chances they find us anyway?”

“Slim.”

“Meaning what? Five percent chance? Ten percent chance?” I say. “How about the leak last time? Was there a slim chance of that happening too? Because it did happen. Owen and Bailey were put in jeopardy under your watch. Owen wouldn’t want to risk that. He wouldn’t roll the dice on something happening to Bailey.”

“I won’t let anything happen to Bailey—”

“If these men did find us, they would get to Owen however they could, wouldn’t they? They wouldn’t stand on ceremony or particularly care if Bailey got caught in the crosshairs. That’s correct, is it not?”

He doesn’t answer me. He can’t.

“Bottom line is that you can’t guarantee that won’t happen. You can’t guarantee me and you couldn’t guarantee Owen,” I say. “Which is why he left her with me. Which is why he disappeared and didn’t come directly to you.”

“I think you’re wrong about that.”

“And I think my husband knows who he married,” I say.