Erasing Faith(79)

But this bloody, f*cked up world I lived in, paved as it was with death and deception, had taught me one thing:

The right path was rarely the path of least resistance. And the hardest things in life were usually the only ones worth doing.

So damned if I was going to stand on the sidelines and watch as she ran straight to her death. I’d been looking for her for too long to let her go again now that I’d finally found her.

Faith Morrissey was alive.

Sure, she was full of piss and vinegar, eager to put a bullet in me, and currently racing away as fast as her cheap-ass economy rental car could carry her.

But she was alive.

And a world with Faith — even the new guarded, gun-toting version — was better than any reality without her.

For the first time in three years, I felt a real, genuine smile tug at one corner of my mouth as I turned and headed into the small patch of trees where I’d stashed my motorcycle.

I was so f*cking in love with that woman, it was going to kill me.





Chapter Forty-Four: FAITH


THE MAELSTROM



I managed to keep it together until he faded to nothing more than a speck in my rearview mirror.

My breaths started to come faster when I hit the main road. The bounce of my shocks as the tires climbed over the bump from dirt to asphalt seemed to shake whatever shred of composure I’d still been holding onto right out of my grip.

I left him behind; I began to fall apart.

Back on solid pavement, speeding away with my foot pressed firmly against the gas pedal, the tears began.

Slowly at first. Just a trickle down each cheek.

Then faster and faster, a steady torrent of emotion, blurring the road before my eyes and eventually forcing me to pull over at a small lookout point. I reached down and blindly shoved the shifter into park as my head dropped to rest against the steering wheel. And for several long minutes, with my fingers pressed uselessly against my eyes in an attempt to stem the flow of tears, I wept like a child. Like the world was coming to an end.

Ragged sobs tore through my chest. I hiccupped for air. Lungs aching, windpipe half-closed, each breath was a hard-fought battle.

I hadn’t cried like this in years.

Not since I’d become Fae. My new persona was sophisticated, self-contained, and always had her shit together.

Five minutes in his presence, and I was back to weepy old Faith.

Crying like a baby, as if tears had ever been a viable solution to any of my life’s problems. I was fully aware that weeping rarely resulted in anything except a headache and puffy, red eyes.

And yet, I couldn’t seem to stop.

***

I don’t know how much time passed before I finally got hold of myself.

With swollen eyes and a heavy heart, I dialed the number, praying he wouldn’t answer. My eyes pressed closed when the Australian accent sounded through the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Mr. Callahan?”

“Yes, this is Roger. Who’s calling?”

“It’s Fae Montgomery. I called you a few days ago about—”

“Your friend,” he said, his voice resigned. “Yes, I remember.”

“Margot,” I supplied softly.

“Right, Margot Mills.” He sighed. “Well, I’m very sorry to be the one to tell you this, but she’s gone.”

“She doesn’t live there anymore?” The hope in my voice was thin.

“No, you’ve misunderstood me…” He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, but… she’s dead.”

She’s dead.

My world screeched to a halt and I nearly dropped the phone. The tears that had finally dried up were instantly back in my eyes, running down my face as I tried to keep from hyperventilating. I stared at the cracked leather of the steering wheel, my eyes wide with shock and denial, telling myself this couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be happening.

“Miss Montgomery?” Roger prompted. “Are you still there?”

“When?” I managed to gasp out, after a few moments had passed in silence.

“Almost a year ago.” Roger spoke hastily, no doubt eager to finish up this call and get on with his day. “She didn’t live here long. I barely knew her. Seemed like a nice enough girl, though, no matter what the papers said about her.”

That caught my attention.

“What?” I whispered in a hollow voice.

“Well, that’s the thing… they found her…” He cleared his throat again. “Miss, are you sure you want to hear this?”

“Please, just tell me.”

“She was in an alley. There was something about the evidence found at the scene — and, well, the manner she was killed in — that led police to think she was involved with some pretty bad people.”

I forced the question from my lips. “What kind of people?”

“Some kind of European drug cartel or terror group. I’m sorry, I just don’t remember. But I think they were based in Hungary.”

Terror group.

Hungary.

I felt my heart drop into my stomach like a stone.

“Listen, Miss Montgomery, I might not have all the facts right. This was nearly a year ago and, like I said, I didn’t know her all that well.”