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“Me, too.”
“I never wanted to put you through that…” I bring the cup to my nose and breathe in the warm fumes. Hot chocolate. She always used to bring me this after a bad day. Some things should never change.
“I feel like I knew,” she says.
“What?”
“I knew my son was still alive.”
I look at her and she smiles at me. “Yeah?”
She shrugs. “You’re my little boy, Fox. Whatever you’ve done — whatever you’ve had to do — it doesn’t matter to me. I’m still going to love you.”
“Don’t be too sure about that,” I mutter.
She stands up. “Try me.”
I smile.
“If you must leave again,” she adds, “check-in every so often. Please. For my sake.”
“I will,” I say. “I promise.”
She leaves the room again. I take a slow sip from my cup before setting it down and walking over to the bed.
Dani.
You’re free now. Free to go home and forget. Free to walk around in public again without hiding your face. Free to move on from all of this.
Move on from me.
I lean down and rest my forehead against hers. I don’t have to worry about waking her. She’s so sedated she won’t wake up for several hours, but I shouldn’t wait that long. There’s just one thing I have to do first. Something I swore I’d never do to her again.
“Goodbye, Dani.” I kiss her soft lips. “I love you.”
I reach into my pocket to feel for the flash drive as I step outside into the hallway.
“Not coming back again, I hope.”
Bennett stands near the door with his arms crossed. I don’t blame him for the hostility. He watched me shoot his daughter. He also watched Mrs. Clark and I save her life afterward, but this is Bennett Roberts.
“Probably not,” I say.
“Good riddance,” he mutters, passing around me to enter Dani’s room.
“Bennett.”
He pauses in the doorway as I hold out my hand. He stares at it for several moments before giving me a silent handshake.
I turn around and enter the next hallway where two police officers are waiting for me.
Goodbye, Dani.
Chapter 37
Fox
“A hunting accident?”
I nod at Detective Lawrence across the interrogation room table. “Yes, sir,” I answer.
He leans back in his chair and scoffs, making the little hairs of his beige mustache fidget back and forth above his lip. “You expect me to believe that Roxie Roberts willingly traveled halfway across the country with you... to go hunting?”
“There’s more to it, but yeah. She did.”
“And then you, an experienced veteran of the armed forces, accidentally shot her in the shoulder?”
I look down. “Not my proudest moment, Detective, but yes. That’s what happened.”
He blinks twice, his face hard as stone. “Do you think I’m an idiot?” he asks.
“No, sir.”
“You realize how crazy this sounds, right?”
I turn up my hands. “If you don’t believe me, ask her yourself.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” he says. “We fully intend to as soon as she wakes up, and you’re not leaving this room until then. In the meantime, I’m curious about why you’re here at all, Fox Fitzpatrick. Aren’t you supposed to be dead? Just where the hell have you been the last two years?”
I shift in my chair as that stick of dynamite officially burns through my pocket and singes my skin.
I clear my throat. “Well, Detective—”
The door behind me opens quickly.
“Fox, don’t say another word.”
I turn in surprise. Boxcar rushes into the interrogation room with a briefcase in his hand. He wears an old, wrinkled suit and a disheveled tie, but at least he bothered to comb his hair.
Detective Lawrence sneers. “Who the hell are you?”
Boxcar slams his briefcase down on the table. “I’m Mr. Fitzpatrick’s Constitutionally-required representation and I’m demanding that you either charge him with a crime or you release him immediately.”
I stare at him. “Box, what—”
He snaps his fingers at me. “Not another word,” he says, clearly enjoying his charade.
“He’s not going anywhere,” Lawrence says. “I still have questions and we can’t corroborate his story until I talk to the girl first.”
“Well, luckily for you, I already have. As of—” he checks his watch, “twenty-three minutes ago, Ms. Roberts is awake and lucid, and she provided me with this statement.” He withdraws a piece of paper from his briefcase and lays it on the table in front of Lawrence. “Too long; didn’t read: she and Mr. Fitzpatrick spirited themselves away on a taboo and romantic getaway—”
“Box,” I say.
He raises his hand again, silencing me. “This led them here to Fox’s current residence where Ms. Roberts coaxed him into a hunting demonstration that went horribly, horribly wrong. City girls, am I right?”
Lawrence says nothing.
Boxcar clears his throat. “I also have a statement from Mrs. Barbara Clark, Fox’s landlord and owner of the land where this event took place. It matches this story to a T.”
“The girl’s awake?” Lawrence asks.
“And lucid. Keep up, Detective.” He snaps his fingers again and Lawrence squints. “Seeing as this entire situation was one great big misunderstanding…” he smirks, “it would be super great if you’d let my client go now, please.”
Lawrence stands up, purposefully stretching as tall as possible. “Wait here,” he says to me as he snatches Dani’s statement off the table. “I’ll check this out myself.”
“Due diligence is the mark of all good police work,” Boxcar says with a wink. “We’ll wait.”
Lawrence glares at the two of us until he steps out into the hallway and slams the door.
I deflate. “Boxcar, what are you doing here?”
He takes Lawrence’s empty chair. “I owed you one, so I figured I’d give you two.”
“I thought you were leaving the country.”
“You tell me you’re going to turn yourself in, and I do nothing? What do you take me for?”
I smirk. “The guilt tore you up, huh?”
“From the inside out,” he says, nodding. He reaches into the briefcase and pulls out his laptop. “Also, I was thinking...”
“Well, that’s never good,” I joke.
The laptop screen reflects off his glasses as he looks at me. “Are you serious about exposing Snake Eyes?” he asks.
“Yes,” I answer. “And no, you can’t talk me out of it. It’s the right thing to do.”
“I figured.” He exhales hard. “In that case, it should come from a reputable source. Not that I don’t trust the fine police officers of the ICPD, I just think there’s a better way.”
“You already have my attention, Box,” I say.
“Do you have the file?”
“Yeah.”
He opens his hand for it. “I’ve done a fair amount of deep-throating with the media, so to speak,” he says. “I can put it in the hands of people the world will trust.”
“Are you sure?”
“Hey...” He smiles. “I’ve got plenty of targets on my back already. What’s one more?”
“This is Snake Eyes, Box,” I warn.
“I know. That’s why I can’t let you do this alone.” He shrugs a shoulder. “Besides, if they’re going down, I want a front-row seat. No more running.”
I nod. Truthfully, if anyone deserves to be here with me now, it’s Boxcar.
I take the flash drive from my pocket and drop it in his open palm. “All right,” I say.
Boxcar sticks it into his USB port and cracks his knuckles. “Just need a minute...”
He gets to work, his fingers furiously tapping away at his keys.
“It’s still chipped, right?�
�� I ask.
“Not for long...” His lips twitch. “Just need to cross a T, dot an I, and...” He firmly slaps the delete key. “Chip no more.”
I smile as his hands go right back to it. I know better than to try and follow along. Not that I would ever be able to understand what he’s doing anyway.
“Carry the one, and... voila.” He turns the laptop toward me again. “Just hit send.”
I look at the screen. He typed out what looks to be an email, but not with a standard email service. Must be one of his own programs, something to keep his identity and location heavily encrypted. The recipient’s names are, as he mentioned, reputable. Even I recognize their bylines.
I raise my hand, swiftly reaching for the keyboard, and Boxcar stiffens. We both know what the consequences of this will be, especially for me.
In the end, it’s what I deserve. I’ll make that sacrifice if it means getting rid of Snake Eyes for good.
If it means Dani is safe.
I click Send.
“There,” I say, sitting back. “It’s done.”
Boxcar spins the laptop back toward himself and nods. “It’s done,” he repeats with a nod.
He stands up to put the computer back into his briefcase.
I take a deep breath as a heavy weight sinks onto my shoulders. It’s a strange feeling to know that you just changed the course of history.
Like Pandora’s box, there’s no going back from this.
“Now,” Boxcar smiles, returning to his usual jovial self, “I’m sure I have at least one more spiel in me about the Bill of Rights, so I’ll go do that, and we’ll have you out of here in five.”
“Don’t bother,” I say. “I’ll just be brought back in once the master file gets out. Might as well stay here.”
“Why would they do that?” he asks. “You’re not in the master file.”
I blink, and his smile grows. “You deleted me from the file?” I ask.
“Yes, I did.”
“Why?”
“Fox,” he says, his expression going soft, “you are the best friend I’ve ever had. I’d even go so far as to say you’re the only friend I’ve ever had. You come back from the dead and you expect me to, what? Go back to Boston? Be the same shell of a man I’ve been since the day you went missing? Fuck that. As far as they’re concerned, you’re just a city boy who took the midnight train to Afghanistan and came back with a serious case of amnesia. People love a good amnesia story. Make it work.”
I shake my head. “Boxcar, that’s—”
“Look, I get it,” he says over me. “You’ve done some things you’re not proud of. You think you deserve to be in here, but there are plenty of us who disagree. We still remember who you are and, dammit, we still really like that guy. So, yeah, Fox, I deleted you from that file because I’m not going to let you waste the second chance you’ve been given. You have no idea how lucky you are to have that.” He pauses. “To have her.”
“I’m not worth throwing her life away for,” I say, looking down.
“Don’t make that decision for her. At the very least, tell her you’re a free man. She deserves that.”
“She deserves more than I can give her.”
Boxcar sighs. “Fox, since the day I met you, there’s been one constant truth in the world: I’m the coward and you’re the cool guy. Don’t mess that up.”
I smile. “I think after today, you’ve earned a shot at being the cool guy, Box.”
His lips curl. “Maybe. Still, you don’t want to be the coward who lost the girl. Believe me.”
The interrogation room door opens again.
Boxcar thrusts his fist into the air. “Bill of Rights!” he shouts.
Detective Lawrence rolls his eyes, looking even more annoyed now than he did when he left. “Mr. Fitzpatrick, you’re free to go,” he says.
“I am?” I ask.
“Fox...” Boxcar tilts his head. “Don’t question the nice detective. He’s just doing his job.”
Lawrence ignores him. “The statements checked out. The family isn’t pressing charges and the mayor has, apparently, already received an interesting phone call from the girl herself, so…” He points his thumb at the door. “Guess he felt a bit star-struck.”
I stand up as Boxcar hustles me toward the door. “Thanks, Detective,” I say.
“Don’t leave town for a while,” he says. “Just in case I have more questions...”
“Now, now, Detective,” Boxcar scolds, playfully. “We both know that’s only enforceable with a court order, and you don’t have one.”
Lawrence bares his teeth but says nothing as the two of us rush out of the room. I follow Boxcar through the station, dodging the pointed glares of officers as we pass them by, and somehow make it out the door without getting shot.
The sun strikes my face as I step outside. I pause to take it in. I’d already said goodbye before. Can’t believe I thought I was ready to give this up.
“Hey, Box,” I say.
He nods. “Yeah?”
“I need another favor. Two, actually.”
We start walking toward the parking lot.
“Okay, what?” he asks.
“I need you to move some money around for me,” I say.
He stops beside a blue rental car and chuckles. “Easy. What else?”
I walk around to the passenger’s side. “How are you with a shovel?”
His face falls. “I’m going to regret this day, aren’t I?”
I smirk. He sighs.
“Fine,” he says, opening the driver’s side. “Come on. I’ll take you home, but can we please, for once, talk about something other than women?”
I laugh as I lower myself into the car. “Probably not,” I say.
Chapter 38
Dani
I look out the window from the backseat, staring at the waving and screaming crowd as our car slowly rolls out of the LAX parking lot.
“Roxie! Roll down your window!”
“Tell us what happened, Roxie!”
“How did it feel getting shot?!”
“Damn vultures…” My father groans from the seat beside me. “Don’t worry, Roxie. We’ll get you inside before they snap a single photo. I won’t have you in a sling all over the damn internet.”
“It’s okay, Dad.”
“This is a nightmare,” he continues. “I’m getting you home and you’re going to stay there until you’re completely healed and your hair grows back. Lena’s waiting at the house with a stylist so we can do something about the color. Oh—” He reaches into his bag and pulls out a black DVD case. “The producer sent over a screener. She wants you to watch it tonight and get back to her before the studio rubber stamps the print.”
I take the case and toss it into my purse. “Okay.”
“Hopefully, Bruckberg will agree to a house call…” He reaches into his pocket for his phone. “Damn stepbrother of yours ruining everything, as usual.”
I watch the world roll by my window. “He saved my life, Dad. Yours, too.”
“Yeah, yeah…” he murmurs. He holds his phone to his ear. “Yeah, hi. This is Bennett Roberts. I’m returning a call… Why? I was in fucking Iowa, that’s why…”
I block out his voice as the city passes by. You’d think he’d give me more than a week off after getting shot, but I guess that’s asking a little too much.
“Yes, I’ll hold…” Dad scoffs to himself. “Remind me to find you a new bodyguard and to get a proper background check done this time. We’re gonna be working out of the house for a while because that prick burned my damn office down. Also, there’s…”
I ignore him as the pink neon sign comes into view around the corner.
Fawn’s Pawn.
I lean forward in my seat to get the driver’s attention. “Excuse me. Pull in here, please.”
“Umm, Rox?” Dad says. “What are you doing?”
The car rolls to a stop in the small parking lot. “I just have to make a quick stop,�
� I say, grabbing my purse and stepping outside.
“No, you don’t—” He stops and speaks into the phone. “Yes, Mr. Bruckberg. I’m here—”
I slam the door behind me and walk quickly toward the shop.
Caleb grins at me from across the counter. “Of all the pawn shops, in all the towns, in all the world… she walks into mine.”
“Hey, Caleb…” I greet. “How are you?”
She raises a brow at me but keeps her smile. “Better than you, I’d wager…” Her eyes dip down. “How’s the arm?”
I jiggle it slightly in the sling and a twinge of pain tickles my nerves. “Drugs help.”
“That’s my motto,” she jokes. “Looks like our boy is still quite the shot.”
“Have you talked to him at all?”
She pauses and drags her teeth along her pink lips. “Briefly,” she answers. “From what I gathered, he’s not looking to talk to anybody much right now.”
My eyes drop to the counter. “I hoped I wasn’t included in that.”
“Oh, honey.” She smirks. “Of course, you are.”
I breathe a laugh. “Still…”
Caleb looks at me with sympathetic eyes. “I’ve known Fox for a long time — not as long as you have — but if there’s one thing I can tell you about him with absolute certainty… it’s that he’s stupid.”
“Stupid?”
“So stupid.” She cracks a grin. “I mean, the guy can shoot the cherry off a cigarette from across a football field, but he can’t see what’s right in front of him?”
“Sounds about right.”
“Dani, I can ramble all day long about how stupid men are — and, believe me, I have — but the hard truth is… we’re not any better. Especially if we don’t do anything about it.”
“I would if I could, but…”
I glance out the windows behind me. The black car sits in the lot with the engine running, just waiting to take me back into a world of broken dreams.
What if I didn’t go back? What if I chose a different life?
What if I chose Fox, the way he chose me?
What if? What if?
I turn back to Caleb. “Is there a back exit out of this place?” I ask.
Caleb grins.