Into the Fire(117)

And then let her.

The baby bumped against his palm. A charge moved through him intense enough to bring moisture to his eyes. Wonder, yes. And grief for the baby he’d lost, as sharp as a fresh wound. But he noticed one feeling that was outshining them all.

Joy.

He kissed Michelle’s forehead. And then he left.

The drive to South Pasadena took the better part of an hour.

The cottage peeked out from behind the ivy-covered brick wall. Air crisp. The porch enveloped in the scent of roses.

His hand shook when he rang the bell.

But for a second time he stood firm.

Footsteps.

And then she was there.

Dark eyes and red lips and a long-sleeved sweater to cover her arms.

They both had so many scars to hide.

He held up the key to the Lincoln Heights house. “I promised to return this to you. But it’s really just an excuse to look at you one more time.”

He set the key in her hand. His fingertips brushed her palm. The smell of her perfume—orange blossom and vanilla—hit a spot in his brain that turned present into past and rolled them together.

She closed her fist around the key. Stared down at her knuckles. She looked like she needed to say something, so he waited and then waited some more.

“My dad called me last night,” she finally said. “He told me what you agreed to. The deal you struck. And why you did it.”

Her eyes were shut, and he couldn’t tell if she was going to cry or scream at him.

He said, “If you ever forgive me…” And then he lost the words.

She kept her eyes closed. She was breathing hard, her chest rising and falling, rising and falling.

He turned to walk off.

Her voice caught him halfway to the brick wall.

“I’m just—” She broke off in a sob. And then, “I’m just having an unlucky run. If you’re smart, you’ll get as far from me as possible.”

He looked down, and the grass got blurry and the walkway and the roses and the street beyond.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m not that smart.”

He turned around.

And he lifted his gaze.





64



A Forever Fall





After loading up the truck vaults with the required gear, Evan stopped by Joey’s on his way to the desert. Construction trucks lined the block, and workers busied themselves installing a premium steel-front door and replacing the broken light fixtures.

Evan stepped past them, heading for the stairs, and climbed to the second floor. Joey’s door was open, and she was ushering a repairman out, holding Dog the dog by the collar so he wouldn’t scramble to freedom. His stitches had come out, the horseshoe scar marking his chest proudly.

Evan entered, and Dog rammed his nose into his crotch until Evan crouched and scratched behind his ears. A big fluffy red dog bed lay beneath the pull-up bar, a new addition.

“God,” Joey said. “All the construction’s been a friggin’ nightmare. They’re putting in new security windows on every floor.”

“Yeah,” Evan said. “I saw a notice downstairs.”

He sensed Joey’s attention sharpen and kept his gaze on the dog.

“Right,” she said. “From the new owner.”

Evan examined a hangnail.

“Do you know where this new owner’s from?” she said. “I mean, that’s the sort of thing you’d research, right?”

“I guess a consortium out of Abu Dhabi.”

“A consortium,” she said. “Out of Abu Dhabi.”

He could feel her eyes lasering through him.

“I can just move up the block, you know,” she said.

Evan kept petting Dog. “I can buy that building, too.”

She let her hands slap to her sides. “You’re beyond impossible.”

Evan said, “I’m thinking that things might change soon—”

“What does that mean?”

“For the better. That my life might get … more peaceful.”

“Peaceful?” Joey said. “Who wants peaceful?”

“And I want to know you’re safe, too.”

“What are you talking about, X? What are you gonna do?”

“I’ll tell you once it’s done.”

He headed out, and she yelled after him, “Given your peaceful new life, maybe you could take the stupid dog!”

He shut the door behind him.

Outside, he hesitated and listened. Through the door panels, he heard Joey’s footsteps creak the floorboards. The crack of her knees as she knelt.

And then she spoke in a baby voice he’d never have imagined she was capable of. “Who’s a good boy?” He heard the jingle of Dog’s collar as she petted him. “Who’s the best, best, most lovey-faced puppy in the whole wide world? Yes, you are! Yes, you are!”

Grinning, he descended the stairs.

As he climbed into his truck, the RoamZone dinged with a text from Joey.

It said, I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU BOUGHT THE BUILDING. U’D BETTER CHILLAX.

Evan typed his one-word response. Before sending, he stared at the screen, a smirk curling his lips. Then he deleted the message, took off the caps lock, and typed again.