Too Far Gone (In Too Deep 2)

“That’s not how it works, I didn’t agreed to – ”

“Nick Seaver.”

I stared.

Holy shit.

Nick Seaver. That was the name of the man who had broken into my apartment this summer, who had attacked me and then tried to suffocate me with my own pillow when I caught a glimpse of his face. He had stabbed Jackson – surely not part of the plan – and then he’d gotten away – definitely part of the plan.

And if my guess was right, he had also been the man in the security footage. The one to murder Gabrielle.

Drowning in my own thoughts, I tried to think of how I could use this information. How to make sure it would trace back to Jackson. It wasn’t till I felt Dane’s hands on me that I broke from my trance. “Don’t,” I snapped, swatting his hand off my waist.

“Then don’t play with me, Lara.”

“You didn’t have to say what you just did and I owe you nothing,” I said, jabbing my finger at the elevator button.

“I disagree,” Dane said, his perma-smirk finally fading into a dark expression that actually made me want to cower. But I refused, even as he took another step closer, his hands in his pockets but his head tilted down low enough that his lips nearly grazed my forehead. “If you leave without giving me what I want, I’m going to tell Jackson everything.”

Fuck. I tried to jog my memory about what Dane even knew. He knew that I had gone to him for information. He knew that I had voiced my regret about the engagement. But he didn’t know about Jake and he didn’t know what I even wanted the information for.

He had nothing on me.

“Then fucking tell him,” I said just as the door glided opened. And in one motion, I grabbed my trench, slipped into my flats and rushed into the elevator. I had my coat half on when I felt Dane push me face-first into the corner. “Get off of me!” I shrieked, feeling him reach around me to yank the towel off my body, leaving me in an open coat and black thong. I grabbed at the sides, trying to cover myself up.

But it wasn’t my body I was trying to hide. It was my weapon.

His rough hands all over me, Dane roared. “It’s not a fucking game, Lara! I told you his full fucking name!” He sounded demonic. His fingers gripped down to my bone as he turned me around to face him. But just in time, I pulled out what I’d slipped from the drawer, yanking the steel chopstick from the side of my panties and stabbing Dane wherever I could. Once, twice, three times till I hit a place that made him scream. Adrenaline coursed through me as I thrashed free from his grip and bolted out the elevator door. It wasn’t till I felt the rain on my skin that I realized I’d made it outside. And that

I might’ve blinded Dane.

Not that I cared to think about that now.

All I could think about was Jake.

Chapter Seventeen

Lara

I didn’t have my phone, I certainly couldn’t go back to get it and to my own dismay, I didn’t come close to memorizing Jake’s number. All I had was my coat, my shoes and a single hope – one that could very well mean nothing. After all, I was high on adrenaline and my mind had done a one-eighty since finally getting up from the couch. I’d let myself fall into some pathetic, dark place where I’d given up on everything but thanks to Dane, my fire was back and so was my hope.

So I went to Brooklyn.

I had a lucky twenty dollars in my pocket so I asked the cabbie to take me seventeen bucks into DUMBO before having him stop so I could leave a tip. Then in the rain, I walked four, maybe five blocks till I was on Water Street. It was starting to pour. I was soaking quickly through what little clothes I had on, but I slowed my pace as I neared the window of the bar in which I’d first met Jake. We’d been Max and Tara that night – the only night we’d had without having to think about anything else in the world. Nothing besides wanting each other so badly the rest of the room could feel it.

I just wanted to be them again.

But the closer I got to the window, the faster my pulse raced. Everything I had on me and in me banked on the chance that he was there. The very slim chance. I had no idea if Jake was in New York let alone Brooklyn, and in that little neighborhood joint where I’d first laid eyes on him. There was no certainty at all, and yet I’d run out of my apartment from Dane, naked under my coat with no money, phone or ID in my pocket. All I had was this relentless hope that Jake was in the very spot I’d spent my last dollar traveling to.

I wanted so bad for it to be real that I just stood next to the brick wall for a minute, at the edge of the window, too scared to look in and let reality crash down on my shoulders.

But finally I took the jump.

My hand on the wall, I peered through the glass. Right away, my heart twisted. An empty room. Two tables, one server, a lonely bartender. Not even the same one I’d seen that night. Please. Please, please. I stared at that Employees Only door where I’d first seen Jake emerge from. I willed him to come out of it. Please, please, please.

But he didn’t. And in no time, I was freezing, hot tears streaming down my face as I walked fast in no direction on the empty cobblestone road. I had no idea where I was going. All I knew was I had to go.

But then I caught something.