Rebound (Boomerang #2)(65)

“Will do, you exquisite creature of beauty and light.”

In the living room, I throw a few logs on the fire to get it burning again, then I grab my phone from the coffee table, and set it down when I realize that Ali and I have the same model, and hers is the one I heard buzzing.

I find mine in the inside zipper of my ski jacket. There’s a message from Rhett—nothing from Grey—but what grabs me is the time. I’m shocked to see that it’s ten o’clock in the morning. I can’t remember the last time I slept this late. And I can’t remember the last time I felt this good, either, and then I’m just a complete idiot blinking back tears in my sweatpants, staring at my phone, because holy shit. It feels so good to feel this way and I never thought I’d have it again. I never thought I’d have anything even close to this again, like I want to do everything for a girl. Everything, just like I told her.

It’s real, and I feel different inside, like I’m vibrating with this insane power. This need to protect her. To hold her. Make her happy. And then I’m fighting off a laugh, because Jazz had it right.

I am made up of millions of energetic molecules—and each and every one of them feels charged and sure and just—f*cking—awesome because of Ali.

I want to head back to her side but instead I summon a huge amount of willpower and check Rhett’s message. He wouldn’t call unless something legitimate was up.

When I play it, the quality of the recording is poor, like the storm’s affecting service.

“Adam, hey. It’s Rhett. You’re not going to like this but, remember I told you I was looking into things? Well, I just heard from my contact at Quick Enterprises. Graham Quick’s been digging around. He’s doing deep background checks on you, man. He’s spending a mint on them. And he’s been in contact with the Board, too. He’s met with Inoue and Sladek in private. This looks like mighty shady shit, Adam. He’s pulling out all the stops trying to get some dirt on you. I wanted to tell you as soon as I heard. Call me back.”

I’m hitting the call back icon before the message has fully played, pacing up to the window. There’s nothing outside but snow. No one and nothing. Just the white, rounded shapes of the lodge, the restaurants below. The trees and mountains in the distance.

The call doesn’t go through. I try again, and get nothing again. And then I turn, because Ali’s phone is buzzing on the coffee table.

I grab it to turn the ringer off so she can sleep. When I pick it up, I see a string of messages lit up on the main screen. It’s an exchange between her and her father, and how can I not read them when my name jumps out at me? When they’re communicating about me?

Dad: Text when you arrive, and let’s make a plan of attack.

Ali: I’m here. Let me do things my way. Trust me.


A heavy weight settles in my gut.

Dad: Any progress?

Ali: Just getting started. But I told you, I’ve got it. Will fill you in tonight.


Text after text like this. I scroll through dozens of them until I get to the end of their exchanges.

Dad: Really hope you’re getting the goods on Blackwood.

Ali: Definitely getting everything I need.


And then Graham’s reply, which came through just now.

Dad: Good girl. Call me ASAP. I need to know what you got on him.


I go so still I’m pretty sure I’m not even breathing. I can’t make sense of it. Nothing adds up in my mind.

I flip the silence button on the side of the phone and set it down.

Chloe.

My deceased wife is the “goods.”

That’s what Ali has wanted this whole time.

Information for her father. Dirt, as Rhett called it.

Leverage.

Blackmail.

Two days ago, in the partner trust exercise, I told her my wife died in a drunk driving accident—something I’ve been covering up for years.

But now that they know, if they dig enough, they’ll find the police report.

Could I have possibly given her a better weapon?

Graham has everything he needs to publicly humiliate me and rock the company I’ve built to its foundations. To drag Chloe’s memory down and— Alison.

Who I thought was . . .

How?

How could she do this? How the f*ck could I have missed it? Did she know who I was all along on Halloween? Did she come after me?

I move back to the bedroom and stare at her sleeping form. I want to rip the blankets off her. Let out the rage that’s ripping around inside me, tearing me up.

I talked to you.

I f*cking trusted you.

I was ready to give you my goddamn heart.

But I don’t say a word.

It takes me less than two minutes to pack up the few things I’d taken out of my bag. I do it without making a sound. Without looking at her again. Then I grab my ski jacket, even though there’s nowhere to go in this storm.

I’m not trying to go anywhere.

All I know is that I can’t be here with her.





Chapter 37



Alison


I wake, smiling, to a knock on the door.

“God, those room service people are persistent.” I turn, expecting to find Adam there, but his side of the bed is empty.

“Adam?” I call. No answer.

I hear the electronic beep of a key card in the door, and struggle to sit up, pain slicing through my ankle. Adam must have gone for some breakfast—or lunch, I think, noting the high slant of a pale sun through the suite’s picture windows. Outside, the snow’s still falling, but the sky is blue beyond, and the fierce winds seem to have tapered off a bit.