My shoulders drop. “Whatever you want to say, just say it, Danny. I’m busy.”
“Busy trying to get in touch with your ex?” He raises his eyebrows as he stops in front of me, only the metal separating us. He reaches across and brushes gently across my cheek. “You have a hair across your eye.”
“Thanks.” I brush at it too, even though he’s already removed it.
“Can you see better now?” he asks, making me exhale tiredly. “He’s your ex, Beau.” He slides his palm onto my nape and holds me by my neck, as if he’s worried I’ll pull away. “Try and see this from James’s perspective. He’s your ex, and he just sent you pictures of another woman all over James, to which, I don’t mind reminding you”—he squeezes a little, dipping to ensure he has my eyes—“you didn’t take too kindly to.”
“We’ve talked about it,” I grate. “And we’re fine.”
“Come on, Beau. Your snake of an ex is going to make the most of this situation. He had James arrested. Be wise with your trust.”
“I need to know what happened.” God damn me, I can feel my lip wobbling, and Danny moves in and hugs me over the divider between the terraces. The mild smell of nicotine fills my nose. “How’s your chest?” I ask, mindful that I’m pressed against it.
“It’s nothing,” he murmurs.
“Sure.”
“Ollie isn’t the only way, Beau.”
Maybe not, but he’s the easiest way, and God save my soul, I know he will share a lot more about Dad’s death than anyone else. He’s not the only one who can manipulate. But is it worth the friction between James and me? “Would you ever try to change Rose?” I ask, feeling Danny still, as if breathing is suddenly an effort and he needs to concentrate.
“I feel like this is a loaded question.”
I exhale into his chest. He knows where I’m going—I don’t need to say it. My suggestion for their delivery problem is the perfect solution. Everyone knows it. But because I am who I am and belong to who I belong to, everyone keeps forgetting the not-so-small detail that I used to be a cop. And while I was making myself pretty for James last night, my father was dying. I snivel and break away, wiping at my face. “I should have met him at the hotel,” I say quietly. God damn me, why didn’t I meet him?
“What?”
I look up and find Danny frowning. “Dad called me last night. He was at a hotel Downtown. Business. He wanted me to meet him there and have dinner. I made my excuses.”
He looks past me as he pulls on his cigarette, the air around him a light smog. “Don’t blame yourself.”
I shake my head, sighing. “Where’s he gone?”
“Gym.”
To stand on his head. My guilt becomes unbearable seeing James in my mind’s eye vertical, his eyes closed, his body solid and straight. Trying to find his calm.
My cell rings, and I inhale as I drop my eyes to the screen. I shouldn’t take it. Danny’s right, Ollie isn’t the only way. But the pull, the promise of distraction, the long-lost instinct being tempted out of hiding? I need to resist it. I look up at Danny, finding him observing me closely. I reject the call, looking past him when Rose appears.
“You look better,” I say, assessing my friend more closely.
“You don’t,” she counters, wandering over. Danny tucks her into his side the moment she’s close enough. “Have you spoken to him?”
“No.”
“So is anyone going to tell me why you were in on a meeting?” She looks up at Danny with narrowed eyes, while he rolls his.
“It doesn’t matter.” I turn my cell in my hand. “It was apparently a waste of everyone’s time and won’t be happening again.”
“We’re going out,” Danny says to Rose, taking one last puff of his smoke and dropping it into an ashtray.
“We are? Where?” she asks, as he drops a kiss on her forehead and wanders back into their room.
“To visit Pops,” he calls back. “Or the empty fucking hole where he once was. Oh, and Beau?” He comes back to the door. “For the record, I think your way is the only way if we’re going to meet the Mexican’s deadline.”
He leaves and Rose faces me. “What is he talking about?”
I bring my hands to my face and press into my eye sockets, so fucking tired. “I offered to help with the gun delivery.”
“Help how?”
“Tow a line of loaded jet skis through Coast Guard infested waters.”
She laughs and then stops abruptly. “Your ring,” she blurts, seizing my hand and staring down at it.
“I changed my mind.”
“Why?”
“I—” I don’t know how to answer that. Maybe to appease James. Show him I do love him. It can stay there until you see the light. Maybe because it’s simply the right thing to do—be his constant light. Except . . . I’m not. “How are you feeling?” I ask instead, stumped. “You’ll be lucky if Danny doesn’t glue you to a bed made of cotton wool.”
“I’m fine. Are you going to talk to Ollie?”
“What do you think?”
“I think you know you shouldn’t, but you won’t be able to help yourself.” Leaning over, she kisses my cheek. “Just try to see things from James’s perspective. I’ll see you later.” That’s exactly what Danny said. They’re either in sync or it’s the universe telling me I need to consider their words. Taking my hand, she squeezes and backs away, letting our joined hands stretch out between us until she’s too far away and I lose my grip.
I go back to my room, slipping out of my gym wear and putting on some denim shorts and a shirt before I track down James. Reassure him. Tell him I’m sorry. For making him doubt my love, for stupidly doubting his. For holding it against him for needing to keep me safe. Try to see things from James's perspective. Danny and Rose are right. I can’t do this to him, not even for my father. James has been a rock, determined to drag me from the darkness. Dad seemed determined to send me further into it.
I tie my hair up, grab my cell, go to the door, and freeze when it rings in my hand, my eyes on the wood before me, not wanting to look down. Fucking hell. I pull open the door, finding Fury on the other side. He looks down at my ringing cell.
“Are you gonna take that?” he asks.
I don’t answer, my face screwing up, and I reverse my steps, shutting the door on Fury, the temptation too much. “Ollie,” I answer, clipped and short, starting to walk circles around our room.
“Beau. How are you?”
“My dad’s dead. My mom’s remains have been taken.” Civilities out of the way. He’s lucky I’m not ripping into him about setting Beth on James. “What happened?”
“We should meet.”
I stop still, staring at my bare feet on the plush carpet. “Meet?” I parrot like a fool.
“I can’t talk over the phone.”
I frown, taking the few steps needed to get me to the bed and dropping to my ass on the edge. “What’s going on, Ollie?”
“Meet me, Beau.”