Epilogue
Owen
“Woman, if you don’t tell me where you’re taking me, I’ll have no choice but to throw you over my shoulder and carry you back to the hotel. If that happens, we may never leave the room again.”
“You’re so impatient.”
Stopping us in the middle of the sidewalk, I use my hand holding hers to twirl her in front of me, annoying the busy passersby, then press a kiss against her lips. “I waited over a decade for you. I have the patience of a saint.”
“Are you gonna hold that over my head for all of eternity?”
A pedestrian shoulder-checks me as he walks by, my signal to keep things moving.
“Saying no would be a lie, so I won’t. Now, lead the way before we piss anymore New Yorkers off.”
It’s two days after Christmas. Snow lightly dusts the city streets, and the holiday decor is still in place. The last time we were here, it was the dead of summer; today we’re bundled inour hats and gloves. Daisy's cheeks are pink from the chill in the air. Her breath dances on the air as she chuckles.
Her Christmas gift to me was a trip to New York City for New Year’s Eve. During one of our usual bedtime chats, we talked about how we would love to be in the city during the holidays. However, Christmas with our families isn’t something either of us was willing to miss. Not after everything we’d been through.
With the ten-year difference between us, my sister and I weren’t as close as we could have been. After what we went through together that night, we’re much closer. Once I was on the mend, she and I made going riding together a weekly occurrence, and she and Mom come to Sunday dinner every week at Sharon’s.
Since we weren’t willing to give up Christmas with family, Daisy has planned the next best thing. Ringing in the New Year in New York City. She arranged and paid for this trip. I have no idea what she’s up to. But giving up my control to Daisy is nothing new. I’d do anything for this woman, and she knows it.
“We’re almost there,” she says, quite happy with herself that I still haven’t figured out her dastardly plan.
When we round the corner, things look familiar, and before I know it, we’re stepping into the same pizzeria we ate at the last time we were in The Big Apple. There’s a line and few open seats, yet, by some sort of miracle, the two seats we sat in this summer are available. When she spots them, she takes her place in line, then shoos me away to snag the two seats by the window.
Doing as I am told, I grab our seats and watch the sea of people go by. I search every face that passes, still looking for the man who pushed her. I doubt I’ll ever stop.
On the plane this morning, Daisy was shaking. Not because she’s a nervous flyer, but because, as she confessed once we were in the air, she sees the sharply dressed Carmine Madden and the rock climber she knew as Wesley, wherever she goes. Thetwo men continue to haunt her even if she knows it’s her mind playing tricks on her. The trauma of her experience has left its mark.
Hell, that night has left its mark on all of us. For me, it’s my mom and sister. I can’t stop thinking something terrible is going to happen to them even though they both say they’re doing fine. Having Basco by Mom’s side has been the best thing for her. She loves that dog, and he loves her. And I know he’d eat anyone who dared do her harm.
Reminders of that night cover my body. My back is still healing, but nearly there. The scars on my face are small enough not to have done too much damage, but I’m certainly not as pretty as I once was.
It’s been a couple of months since that nightmare of a night. Dusty Armstong’s body turned up on the shores of the Deschutes River. Carmine Madden is in prison, and if all goes well, he’ll stay there for the rest of his life. Although with an organization like his, you can never be too certain. They are capable of more than the average citizen might imagine. So, being on the East Coast has me on guard. So much so that I hate that she’s waiting in line and I’m over here saving our seats. Even twenty feet apart seems too far.
Ten minutes later, we’re both eating our folded slices of pizza in comfortable silence.
“So, where are we going after this?” I ask, hoping to catch her off guard.
It doesn’t work. She just keeps eating her pizza, ignoring my question by pointing at a dog pooping on the sidewalk.
“That’s disgusting, Clover. I’m eating.”
She shrugs.
“Come on, give me something. We’re here for five days. You can’t seriously think you’ll keep me in the dark the entire time?”
She lifts an eyebrow as if to say, but can’t I?
“A Broadway show? Museum? Central Park? All of the above?”
“Now you know how it feels,” she says. “This is what you did to me the last time we were here.”
“Yes, but it was only for an hour. I think this payback is extreme.”
She checks the time on her phone. “Shit. Kiss me. It’s 2:22.” She knocks my straw out of my mouth and presses her lips to mine. “Muah! I hope you’re done, because we have to roll. I have an appointment in a few minutes, and you’re coming with me.”
