Blow(90)

I clenched my fists, trying to beat back the urge to knock him around a bit and see if he really was telling me the truth.

“What happened to Peyton?”

Calming myself, I leaned back against the counter. “She was attacked and left with an E on her stomach as a warning . . . to me.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck, no.”

Declan reached behind him, but I was on him too fast. My face was right up in his. “Don’t even think about it.”

“I’m not carrying. I was reaching for my phone. I want to call Peyton.”

Unsure, I patted him down.

“Logan, I told you, I’m not in that life anymore. And besides, I like Peyton—I’d never do anything that might hurt her.”

Images flickered in my mind of the long walk up the hill yesterday, of the dozens and dozens of people we must have passed. Was Tommy one of them? Was he combing the streets looking for the same thing his father demanded be delivered by Friday?

Drugs.

Money.

The connection.

What the f*ck was it?

I found myself staring at Declan. “What do you know about Tommy and dealing drugs?”

He shook his head. “I told you, I’m out of that life.”

Air pushed from my mouth. “Come on man, I’m not stupid.”

“I am.”

“Tommy let you out?”

“Patrick did. He knew my old man needed help with his business and for some reason, he let me go. Said it was for the good of the neighborhood.”

Possible, but not probable. “Come on, Declan, don’t lie.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Then what’s the real reason you’re out and still alive?”

He sighed. “Tommy got shot a few years back and the guys he was with left him on the ground bleeding. I saved him and in return, Patrick let me out. But it really was to work my old man’s business.”

For some reason, I believed him. “Even out, I know you have to hear things. Peyton is an innocent girl who got caught up in Tommy’s shit. If you care about her, you’ll help me out.”

An unlikely ally, I was surprised when he said, “I heard he was dealing and had been seen over at the waterfront with a redhead a lot, but that was months ago.”

“Can you find out where exactly?”

“I can ask around, but I’ll need some time. I can’t just bring it up. I have to run into the right people.”

My mouth twisted. “Something is going down soon and we don’t have much time.”

His eyes told me he understood. “I’ll hit the neighborhood tonight.”

The room was organized and I reached behind him for a clipboard hung on wall. Tearing a corner from a sheet of paper, I wrote down my number. “Call me as soon as you hear anything. I don’t care what time it is.”

I was out the door when I turned back. “Hey—”

He was already on his phone.

For a minute, I wondered again if he’d played me and was calling Tommy.

As if knowing my thoughts, he held his phone. Calling Peyton flashed on the screen.

“Sorry about the misunderstanding.”

He gave me a nod and then turned his attention to his call. “Peyton, it’s Declan . . .”

The door closed and I reached in my wallet and stuffed a twenty in the tip jar. Charlene was still eyeing me, but at least she added a smile.

Once I was back in my car, I sent Elle a text.

Me: What color hair does your sister have?

Elle: Red, why? Do you think you found her?

Red.

Could Tommy have been in business with Lizzy? Was O’Shea on the up-and-up when he said he had nothing to do with what went down?

I texted Elle back.

Me: No, I haven’t. Do you have a picture of her you could send me?

Elle: I don’t have any recent photos, but I know there are some on Michael’s FB account. Hang on.

Elle sent me a link.

Me: Thanks. I’ll be back soon.

Elle: I’m at the boutique. I took a cab. I’m waiting for the deliveries and then I’ll meet you back at the hotel.

Me: I told you to stay put.

Elle: I’ve been here for months. It’s safe.

She had a point. As long as I didn’t go there and she wasn’t seen with me, she was safe—for now. My fingers hovered over my screen. I wanted to say something to her to let her know I was thinking about her. My feelings confused even me. I’d known her what, four days, and I wanted to know more of her. I’d told her about the darkest part of me, and she didn’t think I was a monster. Something was happening between us, but I wasn’t sure either of us knew what it was.

Me: Looking forward to seeing you.

Elle: J

A smiley face? What the hell did that mean? I shoved my phone into my pocket before I sent her back a matching one or worse yet, a wink, or who the hell knew, maybe an xoxo. If I didn’t get my thoughts under control, I might just be texting her a heart before I even realized it. My groan was loud enough for everyone in the vicinity to hear. I wanted to plug my own ears.

Pulling out, I focused on the traffic, the cloudy day, the people on the street. Anything to take my mind off the girl I was becoming way too attached to.

I spent the afternoon at the waterfront. What I thought I’d find there, I had no idea. I roamed Seaport Boulevard. I saw nothing out of the ordinary. I ventured into the hotel lobbies. I found shit. Wandered the waterfront. The only things there were boats and seafood.