“There’s always a choice and youchoseto take a life. Mydad’slife!”
“I was deep in shit, just like your boyfriend.” He fidgets with his hands in front of him, stealing a quick glance up at me. “I got into trouble a while back, but Donovan… he offered me a way out. I either joined him and his men, or…” he trails off, and I don’t need him to elaborate on what ‘or’ entails, I think I can take a pretty good guess what it means. “That night… at the warehouse… I was scared, I didn’t know what to do. There was gunshots and fighting…fuck… I panicked. Then Donovan dragged a cop in, told me to shoot him to prove myself and my loyalty to him. It was dark, I didn’t see your dad’s face. I tried to tell them I didn’t want to, but they held a gun to my head and told me it washimorme.” His voice cracks. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry!” he wails, falling to his knees, cradling his face in his hands.
“You still had a choice. He was an innocent man, a good man, and you took him away from me, from my mom and AJ…”
“Amy, please,” he begs, his eyes sparkling with tears as he stares up at me. “If I could go back…”
“But you can’t. What’s done is done.”
“I hate myself for what I’ve done. I tried to tell you… I wanted to tell you the truth, I just… I didn’t know how to.”
“I hate you, and I’ll never forgive you for this. Please just go.”
“Amy…”
“Go!” I shout, fighting the tremble of my chin as I force back the overwhelming need to cry.
He stares at me for a moment, then with his head hung low, he makes his way out of the room, and for the first time there’s silence. It’s a heavy silence, a silence that feels thick and claustrophobic, suffocating as the full weight of what’s just happened closes in.
I’m shaking, not just because I’m upset, but from the shock, the anger and the fear of everything that has transpired here in the matter of minutes. I hurry over to Logan and crouch in front of him between his legs, wrapping my arms around his middle, and he winces slightly before his arms go around me too.
“You shouldn’t have done that, Ames. You should have-”
“Is this why you’ve been avoiding me all week?”
He nods slowly. “I wanted to keep you out of it if I could. I’m so fucking sorry.”
“It’s done. I’m just glad you’re okay.”
“But the car…”
“Is just a car. Cars are replaceable.Youare not.” It’s then that it dawns on me. Something that had completely slipped my mind.
“Shit!” I rise to my feet and hurtle out of the office, running through the shop, just as two sleek black sedans, along with the GTO drive away, disappearing from sight, along with the letter my dad wrote me. It’s still in the glovebox.
His final words to me before he died. His handwritten goodbye.
Gone.
A cry rips through me, the sound tearing through the empty garage, and I collapse to my knees clutching my chest. The pain shooting through my body is crippling. I feel as though I’m splitting in half.
Moments later, I’m pulled into a solid, warm chest, Logan’s familiar scent filling my nostrils as he lets me sob against him. He kneels beside me, stroking a hand through my hair as I cry, hearing the low rumble of the GTO’s engine slowly fade into nothing.
Chapter 28
Amy
The drive to Logan’s house is long and silent, the short distance dragging on for what feels like miles. I don’t know how I managed to make it to his house without getting into an accident, because for the entire drive, my mind has been elsewhere. You know when you’re driving and you get to your destination and you have absolutely no idea how you got there? Like you're on autopilot?
Yeah, that’s what it felt like.
Numb.
I insisted I drive Logan home, not wanting him to drive injured, and to be honest, I can’t face going home. What the hell would I say to my mom? How would I explain my shaking hands and bloodshot eyes? How can I face her knowing what I know?
My mind swirls. I can’t shake the image of David pulling the trigger and my dad collapsing into a heap on the floor. I see it every time I close my eyes. It’s an image that will haunt me for a long, long time.
I pull into Logan’s driveway and help him out of the car. He winces, clutching his side, and I suspect that they beat him more than I saw. Once we’re inside, I lead him to the kitchen and he sits on one of the chairs at his breakfast bar.
