Incendiary

By DelSheree Gladden

New Year’s means resolutions, getting on track, making decisions.

For Eliza Carlisle, starting a new year means making tough choices, even if those decisions mean losing friends and possibly getting kicked out of culinary school. She’s all set to take her life in a new direction when her demented half-brother Simon’s reappearance changes everything.

Broken and more alone than she’s been since fleeing her childhood home, Eliza struggles to hang onto the fragile threads that are holding her life together. Only a comically disastrous young chef and the threats against her life pull Eliza out of her fog of self-loathing. Saving seven-year-old Clara means ignoring the threat Simon now poses and surrendering to burnt grilled cheese sandwiches and whipped cream-splattered kitchens...not to mention family secrets, death threats, and a whole host of spy gadgets. And who can forget about Baxter?

With so much mounted against her, Eliza has as much chance of surviving the criminal elite, her psychotic half-brother, and Baxter’s determined advances as she does escaping Chef Harper’s quest to kill her culinary dreams.

• Language: English
• Publisher: DelSheree Gladden
• Release date: Apr 18, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463159934

DelSheree Gladden

DelSheree Gladden was one of those shy, quiet kids who spent more time reading than talking. She didn't speak a single word for the first few months of preschool. Her fascination with reading led to many hours spent in the library and bookstores, and eventually to writing. She wrote her first novel when she was sixteen years old, but spent ten years rewriting before it was published.Native to New Mexico, DelSheree and her family spent several years in Colorado before returning to northern New Mexico. When not writing novels, you can find DelSheree reading, hiking, sewing, playing with her dogs, and working with other authors.DelSheree has several bestselling young adult series and has hit the USA Today Bestseller list twice as part of box sets. DelSheree also has contemporary romance, cozy mystery, and paranormal new adult series. Her writing is as varied as her reading interests.

Book preview

You’re making the right decision.

My reflection looked as uncertain as I felt.

I was surprised when Puck asked if I wanted to go out to dinner for New Year’s Eve instead of to one of the many parties he and Sean had been invited to attend. After the disastrous, pre-Christmas dinner with his parents, and arguing over how much holiday festivity I could handle during an emotionally draining time of the year, I suspected he was making an effort to show that he was trying to understand where I was coming from.

Being a musician, he loved crowds, parties, excitement, and late nights.

Being a baker with a traumatic past, I loved quiet, calm, solitude, and homemade muffins.

Not that I had experienced much quiet or calm since moving to Manhattan to attend culinary school. Pastries I had plenty of, but chaos generally seemed to follow close on my heels. A week earlier, I had nearly been blown up, delivered a baby, and made a damn good Irish whiskey cupcake on live TV. Yes, that was my life, but it didn’t mean I wouldn’t love a week of peace and quiet, with not a single murder, burglary, or explosion.

Changing my mind about my hairstyle, I pulled it up into a high ponytail and thought about Baxter’s Christmas gift to me. The key itself was nothing special. What it unlocked had affected me deeply. I was dating Puck, but…but Baxter was Baxter and I knew I couldn’t make it through a day without him in my life. We fought often and intensely, but when he gave me the key to his childhood home and opened up about the years after his father died, it gave me the courage to open areas of my heart that had been closed since my disturbed half-brother Simon murdered my high school boyfriend right in front of me.

Simon was still a very real danger. The photos he had been taking of me and sending to Detective Gordon proved he was a threat I needed to be aware of at all times. Baxter made living with the fear bearable.

Glancing at myself in the mirror again, I took a deep breath. You’re doing the right thing, I said firmly, though my insides felt as wobbly as Jell-O.

I walked through my apartment, darkened by the always-closed blinds. My phone buzzed on the way to the door. Puck was downstairs. My stomach twisted again, but I stepped into the hall, locked up, and made my way down to meet him.

As soon as I was within reach, he swept me into a warm hug that left my feet dangling above the ground. I should take you nice places more often. You look amazing in that dress.

Thanks, I said, anxiously brushing at the full skirt.

As usual, the dress had been pilfered from what my sister had left behind while on a journalism assignment in Spain. The last time I had worn a dress was to meet Puck’s parents, and it hadn’t gone well. Even though Puck was driving tonight and I didn’t have to worry about hiking up a too-snug dress in order to get on my motorcycle, I found myself second-guessing my wardrobe choice.

Ready? Puck asked.

I nodded and he led the way. When we reached the sidewalk, I glanced around, confused when I didn’t see the monstrous van that carried around his band’s equipment. I was startled when a sleek black sedan chirped as it was unlocked. Puck reached for the passenger side door with a grin.

Where did this come from? I asked.

He shrugged, still grinning. I usually keep it in storage so it’s not stolen while parked outside my building. Tonight seemed like a good night to get it out.

I knew he was trying to make up for the awful dinner with his parents and the arguments that had followed. Even though it made me squirm a little that he was going so overboard, I appreciated how sweet he was being. For a few seconds anyway. My earlier decision sat like a boulder of holiday fruitcake in the pit of my stomach. Maybe I should wait. What would it really matter? Tonight. Tomorrow. Next week. I felt my resolve weakening as we pulled into traffic.

The drive into New York to the restaurant was quiet, and I was surprised when we pulled up to nice-but-not-too-nice steakhouse. Puck glanced over at me looking a little chagrined. I thought after how dinner with my parents went you might not want to eat anywhere Harper might know the chef.

I wasn’t entirely sure why my instructor hated me from the moment we met, but his dislike of me had only deepened when I’d inadvertently led the director of the culinary program to think Harper had been sexually harassing me. Now it was his goal to humiliate me and get me kicked out of culinary school. So far I’d managed to avoid getting expelled from the program, but Harper had won a major battle when he’d convinced his friend to ruin all my food and wine the night I had dinner with Puck’s parents. I cringed at the memory. Spitting wine all over your boyfriend’s parents was unlikely to make a good impression…not when they had already called you a cougar, a heathen, and incurably self-centered.

Good choice, I said.

Puck smiled, relieved I wasn’t upset he hadn’t taken me somewhere nicer. I wasn’t sure why he was even worried. Our usual dates consisted of me cooking or him picking up takeout. Food was my passion, but I couldn’t afford to eat anywhere nicer than the corner bistro. Since Puck’s wealthy parents had cut him off when he and his sister, Cordy, decided to start a band, neither could he.

We got out of the car and walked up to the restaurant. Puck had actually made reservations, which was a nice surprise, and we were seated almost immediately. I felt myself relax despite what I knew I eventually had to do. Being with Puck was so comforting and easy. He made the world seem like a simpler, more normal place. He made me feel normal, which I hadn’t been for quite some time. The problem was, it never lasted. Reality crept back in when he left, making it harder to face.

Before I knew it, dinner was over and Puck was asking if I wanted to walk around for a while. There was a park nearby. Given that I still wasn’t overly familiar with the city, I didn’t realize he meant Central Park until we were walking under an archway announcing our location.

I smiled and said, I’ve been wanting to come here, but I haven’t had time yet.

Chuckling, Puck said, I can’t imagine why. Culinary student, fry cook, baker, occasional detective, TV celebrity…where would you have ever fit it in?

I flinched at the TV celebrity comment. Almost getting blown up on live television had not done much for my standing with the culinary program. Harper had called me at home to let me know he would be petitioning for my expulsion the next day. Only a call to the director from one of the judges from the TV show, a well-known and highly respected chef, had stalled Harper’s efforts. He’d praised my Irish whiskey cupcakes even more than my work on the cupcake murder case, and told the director he’d be a fool to kick me out. Apparently, cupcakes could solve all your problems.

Except one.

Puck, about the spring break trip…

He sighed, but didn’t seem surprised. You’re not going to come? I’m sure Mina and Saul will give you the time off.

I knew they would too, but that wasn’t the problem. I opened my mouth to speak, but Puck cut me off before I could get the first word out.

Before you give me all the reasons you can’t come, let me give you one reason you should come, okay?

Before I had a chance to respond, Puck was removing something from his pocket and bending down on one knee. My stomach sank and I nearly burst into tears. Not in a good way. I was trying to find the courage to break up with him and he was proposing? I couldn’t even begin to wrap my head around why he would do such a thing, let alone figure out what to do about it.

Eliza…

A strange, soft thud registered in my ears as Puck’s body lurched forward. I flinched back, confused and filled with an ache I wasn’t prepared for. His expression changed, surprise and pain flashing across his features. His pain didn’t make sense, but I felt completely numb in that moment. I couldn’t figure out what was going on until the ring box fell from his fingers and his gaze dropped to his chest. The dim space between streetlamps made his blue dress shirt look darker than it was, but not dark enough to keep me from seeing the stain spreading over the fabric.

Panic overwhelmed me the second realization set in. Oh God, no, I gasped as I reached for him and my phone at the same time. Something tore inside me. Tears blinded me as I struggled to lie him down and wrestle my phone from my purse. My only rational thought was that I had to get him help. Terror hovered at the edges, one breath away from shutting me down completely.

Puck crumpled suddenly, taking us both to the ground. Run, he wheezed.

No, I snapped, the single word coming out more harshly than I intended. I was dialing. Someone would come. There had to be police nearby. It was Central Park.

Eliza…run, Puck begged.

I shook my head and pressed the phone to my ear, begging for a 911 operator to pick up quickly. Shouldn’t they recognize my number on sight at this point?

Puck’s body shuddered against mine and he mumbled, Simon…

Freezing at his name being spoken, I only distantly heard the 911 operator asking me what my emergency was. Cold flooded through me as I saw him. His stride was patient, confident as he walked toward us with a rifle hanging loosely in his grip. It was too dark to see his face clearly, but the sight of my half-brother coming at me with a weapon was something I had never been able to forget.

He was within reach before I could shake away the terror of being face to face with him. His gloved fingers plucked the phone from my hand. The nearness of his body shocked me back to life and I threw myself over Puck to protect him. Simon’s cold eyes watched me mockingly as his lips parted to speak.

Emergency? he asked. Well, I don’t know that I’d really call it an emergency at this point. Feel free to send police if you’d like, but I’ll be long gone by then and Puck is already dead, so there’s no need to rush.

Help! I screamed, suddenly finding my voice again. He shot my boyfriend! Help! Please!

Ignoring me, Simon calmly responded to the 911 operator, saying, If you insist. She’s a quarter of a mile from the Chuck Worley entrance. Goodbye.

He dropped the phone and crouched down. I curled myself around Puck even more and kicked out at him. Get away from me!

Shaking his head, Simon pretended at pity while cold fury burned behind his eyes. I told you I’d come back. I gave you ample warning. He gestured toward Puck. You didn’t listen…and now Puck is dead.

No he’s not! I shrieked. Tears spilled down my face. He was still breathing, barely, but I could feel his chest moving. He’s going to be fine, I sobbed.

Simon stood suddenly, raising the rifle to point it at Puck’s partially exposed head. His finger twitched on the trigger, but then he shook his head. There’s no point wasting the bullet. He turned the gun on me and his mouth split into a sick grin. Have you suffered enough yet?

Please, Simon, I begged. Tears kept pouring relentlessly, but my half-brother didn’t even seem to notice them.

Are two dead boyfriends equal to being abandoned and forgotten by a father? Is it comparable to growing up with a suicidal mother, poor to the point that I regularly wondered how long it would be before I ate again?

Simon’s finger tightened against the trigger and I huddled against Puck, desperately trying to feel him breathing over my own panicked breaths. Eyes squeezed shut against the bullet that would end my life, I didn’t see him move even closer. I felt his breath, heard his whispered words so abruptly that I shrieked in terror.

No. It’s not even close to the same, Simon hissed. I can make you suffer so much more than this. He sucked in an excited breath, and then he was gone.

It took a precious few seconds to realize he had disappeared. When I did, panic for Puck overrode my terror of Simon and I scrambled blindly for my phone. I had just hit send when a beam of light swept over us. I flung my free arm into the air and waved at who I desperately hoped were police officers. Help! Help me, please! He’s been shot!

More light beams focused on our bodies, mine flailing and Puck’s limp in my arms. Chaos erupted as the officers reached me and words began tumbling incoherent from my mouth.

Simon, he shot him! You have to help Puck, find Simon, stop him! He’ll come back. He’ll kill someone else! Detective Gordon, he knows. Please, you need to call him! Please, please just help us, please…please. I can’t feel him moving anymore, I sobbed. He’s not moving…

I broke down then, ice seeping through me as Puck’s blood slowed, cooled, and stained so much more than our clothes.

2: Hidden Beneath

Lights flashed and people moved. Voices carried in the dark and crackled over radios. They seemed to be moving around me, but I was outside of it. Numb. Empty. Hollow. My eyes were unseeing as they loaded Puck into an ambulance. My body hadn’t felt them take him from my arms because I couldn’t feel anything anymore. One of the officers had tried to speak to me, but all I could hear was Simon’s voice in my head, reminding me that this was my fault and that he would be back.

Simon would never give up. He would never stop punishing me or the people unfortunate enough to be considered my friends.

Eliza?

I stared at the blood on my hands, on my dress and coat.

Eliza? Are you okay?

Gordy’s voice registered somewhere in my mind, but it slipped away a moment later. The blood consumed me. It would never come off.

Eliza, I want the paramedics to examine you, okay?

I tried to convince her to be checked out earlier, but she wouldn’t respond, a second voice said. His voice drifted away in the haze a moment later, taking all meaning with it.

Someone grabbed my arms then. Deep down, a weak flame of fear sparked, but it was quickly drowned out by the memory of Puck’s eyes closing. I felt myself being lifted from the ground. It reminded me of seeing Puck laid on the stretcher and I suddenly felt sick. Before the nausea could overpower the emptiness, I stopped floating.

She’s in shock, Gordy said, but I need to be sure she isn’t otherwise injured. Please.

The desperation in his voice tugged at me. The weight of my guilt pressed down even harder and the cold deepened. I didn’t want to move or speak, but I needed to remember why this had happened. I couldn’t let it happen again. I had been selfish and stupid to think I could live a real life under Simon’s thumb. I couldn’t forget his threat, his promise.

But even those thoughts were becoming difficult to hold onto.

People tugging at my jacket was muddling everything even more. I tried to pull away, make them stop distracting me. My arms felt heavy…the blood weighing them down.

This isn’t all his blood, someone said frantically. Some of it is hers!

For a brief moment, I felt relief that Simon had shot me too. Then I felt nothing at all.

** **

Waking happened much slower than losing consciousness. There was no confusion, though. As soon as my mind cleared enough to form a coherent thought, that moment of relief turned on its head. Depression strangled me. I wasn’t dead. Simon hadn’t accidentally finished me off when he’d shot Puck. I was still alive.

I was still alive.

My body convulsed painfully as sobs burst out of me. A dull fire throbbed in my midsection. The real pain was knowing the life and people I had come to love were gone forever.

Eliza? a panic-stricken voice called. What’s wrong? Are you in pain?

The voice took a moment to register, but as soon as it did, I lost it completely. Get away from me! Get away from me!

Hands grabbed at me and I desperately swatted them away.

Stop it! You’ll tear your stitches! It’s just me, he pleaded. It’s Baxter.

I know, I sobbed. I pushed his hands away and begged, Get away from me, please.

No, he said, bewildered and angry. I’m not leaving.

Get out! I screamed.

The last word had barely left my lips when the door to my room burst open and a stern looking nurse barreled into the room. What is going on in here?

I want him to leave, I said. Please.

The nurse’s weathered skin wrinkled. She looked at Baxter, who shrugged and threw up his hands. Turning back to me, she said, Detective Gordon said he was your friend. He’s been right by your side since you got out of surgery.

The word surgery made me falter a moment, but I recovered quickly. He can’t be here. Please! I want him to leave, right now.

The nurse hesitated a second, then patted my arm gently. Okay, Eliza. Okay. She gestured for Baxter to follow her.

When he shook his head, she gave him a threatening look even Baxter believed she could back up. His chin dropped and he didn’t ask what was wrong with me before following the nurse out into the hall. He didn’t need to ask. My heart split open even further to see him accept being banished, but I had already told him this would be my choice if I had to make it. There was no question about whether protecting him outweighed a chance to be with him.

I ignored the whispered conversation they shared and laid back against the pillow, feeling every stitch as I did. The nurse said I had been in surgery, but I didn’t remember being shot. The pain must have been hidden beneath fear and shock. A sliver of curiosity poked at me, made me wonder how much damage there had been. Those thoughts were immediately silenced with a reminder that it didn’t matter because I deserved this outcome.

I deserved it.

Puck didn’t.

Nobody else deserved this.

The nurse returned with quiet steps. Eliza, my name is Louisa. I’ll be taking care of you until morning. I need to check your stitches, okay?

I nodded and closed my eyes as she lifted the side of my gown. Her touch was gentle, but I winced as she made sure I hadn’t torn anything.

Everything looks fine, but you need to rest. She waited for me to open my eyes and pinned me with a firm stare. Next time you need something, you press this red button. No more flailing around, okay?

I don’t want any visitors.

Louisa considered my request. The police still need to talk to you.

Detective Gordon is fine. No one else.

Frowning, her gaze drifted toward the hallway. There’s a young officer stationed outside your door. Keeps asking how you are. Looks pretty worried about you.

Morales. I knew his feelings would be hurt, but I shook my head. Only Detective Gordon.

Slowly, Louisa nodded. I’ll let the rest of the staff know. She turned back toward the door, but a question bursting from my lips stopped her short.

Did they save him?

Her shoulders sagged. She took a deep breath, then slowly turned to face me. I’m sorry, dear, but he was gone before the ambulance even got there. I thought you knew.

Forcibly biting back the tears welling in my eyes, my lip ached under the pressure. I did know. Deep down, I did know. I just didn’t want to believe it. I just…wanted to…be sure, I mumbled stupidly. I thought maybe…

Louisa patted my shoulder gently. I’m sure they did everything they could.

I nodded, tears spilling past my control. If only I had done everything I could have. Should have.

Louisa slipped out of the room, leaving me to drown in my tears and guilt.

3: Half Luck and Half Stupidity

The door handle clicked and my heart rate spiked. I froze, body silent and still in the hospital bed, eyes searching for somewhere to hide. A dozen fears tumbled through my mind. Simon come back to finish me off. Baxter to argue with me. Puck’s parents to heap on more well-deserved guilt and shame. Sean to prove he’d been right about me all along…

Gordy stepped into the room.

I sucked in a ragged breath and collapsed back against the bed.

Concerned, Gordy hurried to my bed. What’s wrong? Did you see someone?

I shook my head and tried to catch another breath. Once, breathing had been subconscious, something I rarely thought about. Now, I struggled for each one. I was too filled with pain and guilt to fit anything else. Would that ever change? I doubted it. Maybe when Simon finally ended my suffering.

Waiting for me to calm down, Gordy took the seat next to the bed and watched me. When I was breathing semi-normally, he asked, How much do you remember from last night?

I closed my eyes and whispered, Everything.

We don’t have to do an official statement right now, but can you give me the basics? Gordy asked. Was it Simon for sure? Did you see him?

My whole soul constricted. I could feel his body heat next to me in that moment, a memory come to life. It was him. He walked right up to us. He spoke to the 911 operator. He promised to…come back. My voice broke on the last word and I turned my face into the pillow.

Gordy settled back in the chair. Is that why you kicked Baxter out?

I kicked everyone out. The weak argument didn’t faze him.

It won’t work. You know that, right? Once you’re released…

He left the thought hanging, but I refused to take the bait. I knew Baxter would fight me, but it wasn’t a battle he would win. I would leave, give up culinary school…give up everything, if I had to.

After several minutes of silence, Gordy asked, What changed? He left Puck alone for so long. Why now?

Nausea swept over me, but I buried it beneath a mountain of grief. Puck proposed.

Frowning, Gordy asked, Proposed what? Then his eyebrows rose. He proposed? Marriage? Why?

A sad, tear-laden laugh escaped me. I honestly don’t know.

Did he actually think you would say yes? Gordy seemed nearly as stunned as I had felt in that moment before the bullet struck Puck. I mean, no offense to Puck, but we all know you’re in love with Baxter. I get why you were with Puck, but…proposing? What was he thinking?

Dark, morbid irony made me say, I was planning to break up with him that night. As soon as I admitted that, I burst into tears.

Gordy wasn’t big on comforting hysterical people, but he carefully pulled me into an awkward hug.

Please don’t…tell anyone…that, I said between sobs. The depths of what a horrible person I was kept getting deeper and deeper.

Shh, Gordy whispered. No one needs to know about that. It’s not important now. Catching Simon is what matters.

I swiped at my eyes, utterly empty of optimism. You couldn’t find him before. Why would he let you find him now?

It wasn’t meant as a criticism of Gordy’s detective skills. Simon was just too careful, too good at disappearing.

It’s not about him letting me find him, he argued. He’s getting bolder. He’s anxious to hurt you. Watching you isn’t enough anymore. He’s waited for this too long, and now that he’s so close to getting what he wants…he’ll make more mistakes. He’ll take risks.

I sank in on myself. Simon taking risks meant more of my friends dying. I should leave. Get out of the city. Go back into hiding.

Bernadette’s lease be damned. I didn’t care anymore. Staying was stupid. It was selfish. There was no reason not to leave, but every reason to run.

I honestly don’t think that will help at this point, Gordy said. He’s escalated too much. He’s intent on punishing and then killing you. Hiding won’t stop him. He’ll find you again.

But at least all of you will be safe, I argued. That’s reason enough to leave.

Gordy shrugged. So, you abandon everything you love and have worked for. Simon will find and kill you. Then he’ll disappear. He’ll never be held accountable. He’ll never be stopped from doing this to someone else.

There’s no one else he wants to destroy! I snapped.

I hadn’t noticed Gordy carrying anything when he’d come in, yet he reached down next to his chair and produced a thick manila file folder. With a hint of attitude, he tossed it onto my lap. Several photos and papers slid partway out of the folder. One eye stared up at me, cold and hungry, completely unrepentant for whatever had led to him being booked by the police. I didn’t need more than that one eye to identify him, but I pulled the photo from the file and stared at the full face of my half-brother. Black lines measuring his height blurred behind his head. The smile he wore stole all my focus. I would have sworn he knew I’d someday see this arrest photo and was purposely sending me a message.

Throwing open the folder, I sifted through the stack of police reports, mug shots, unsolved crimes, and more. Everything had either Simon’s name or face attached. I didn’t understand. Staring up at Gordy, I demanded, What is all of this?

It’s taken me this long to track it all down, but that’s what your half-brother has been up to for the last five and a half years. He gestured at the mess I’d made of the file. Burglary, assault, vandalism, vehicular manslaughter, attempted murder…a little of everything spread across five states.

I didn’t understand. The police back home had sent out alerts and promised they were looking for him. Had they been lying, or simply missed what Simon had been doing? Ben’s death had been a big story at the time. Had it been forgotten so quickly?

Reaching over, Gordy slipped something from the mess of papers and photos on my lap. When he held it up, all I saw was a blur of words and Simon’s disturbing smile. Gordy enlightened me, whether I wanted to hear the explanation or not.

One year before you moved to the city, Simon was arrested for the assault and battery of a man who had tried to stop him from breaking into a neighbor’s home. Gordy pushed the report closer to my face. Look at the address.

I shied back, but he wouldn’t relent and pushed the report even closer. My insides twisted into knots as I squinted and forced myself to focus on the line Gordy was pointing at. I gasped the second recognition dawned.

Gordy refused to let it rest at that. You lived in the basement of that house. Simon would have killed or taken you then if not for your neighbor.

I never heard anything about that, I said. I had no idea.

You never told the local police about Simon, did you? The hard edge to his tone layered on shame I didn’t fully understand.

Not quite looking at him, I said, I didn’t want anyone to know why I was there.

So you weren’t concerned about a homicidal lunatic coming to find you and hurting people who might get in his way? You didn’t think it might have been wise to give the local police a heads up that a psychotic killer might wander into town?

I flinched, but he wasn’t done yet.

Damn it, Eliza, you were so busy protecting yourself back then that you put others in danger, and you’re about to do it again. He tossed the report at me and fell back against his chair.

But…but leaving would protect my friends…wouldn’t it? I stared up at him helplessly, confused, hurt, and lost.

Gordy scrubbed at his brow and sighed. When you disappear and Simon wants to find you, who do you think he’ll go after first?

My insides roiled and I nearly lost what little was left in my stomach.

He won’t simply go back to looking for you, Gordy said, not when he has sources of information this time. He’ll hurt whoever he has to in order to find out where you’ve gone. Hurting them after you’ve run will still punish you. He knows that. You know that.

I tried to hold back another round of tears, but I didn’t have any strength left. What do I do then? I pleaded. How do I keep my friends safe without running?

Gordy took in a deep breath and held it for a few seconds before finally exhaling. You pretend everything is normal.

What? I demanded. No! That makes absolutely no sense, Gordy! I won’t do it.

It does make sense, he argued. Stay away from anyone you care about if you have to, at least where he can see you, but keep him here in the city. Let him watch you. Give him chances to get too close and make mistakes. Give me a chance to catch him.

What if he hurts someone? I was begging, pleading with him to give me another option. One we all could live with.

Gordy met my gaze and held it in a way that I couldn’t look away from no matter how much I wanted to. I’m one hundred percent positive someone you love will get hurt if you run. If you stay, I can justify having you and your friends protected around the clock. I can’t guarantee you no one else will get hurt, but this is the best plan for keeping everyone safe and stopping a man intent on ruining as many lives as he can.

I knew Gordy was the best at what he did. I knew I could trust him. What I didn’t know was if I was strong enough to do what he was asking.

Running is easy, Eliza, but it’s deadly. He gripped my hand. What I’m asking of you is going to be scary and hard, but I have no doubt you’ve got enough courage and strength to see it through.

I had faced down murderers, drug dealers, mobsters, and sex traffickers since moving to the city. My survival in all of those situations had been half luck and half stupidity…and maybe a pinch of momentary brilliance. Courage? Strength? Those weren’t words I had ever used to describe myself. I wasn’t strong or brave, or any of the other things I knew it would take to see Gordy’s plan through. I was a baker who muddled her way through dangerous situations. Would that be enough this time?

Okay, I said, regretting my decision as soon as the single word left my mouth.

4: Shattered Soul

The last time I was in the hospital, I’d begged for discharge, wanting to go home and escape the memory of being held captive by Officer Williams as quickly as possible. Now,