Chapter 31

Hope gnawed at her thumbnail until the skin was raw as worry carved at her insides. They were flying across the North Washington Street Bridge, Shane Livingstone driving scarily fast, cherry lights spinning, sirens blaring—the second SUV close behind.

"Take a left then first right down Prince." They drove through Little Italy. This whole area was full of Italian restaurants and cafés.

"Beasley, Waterman, Vander and Company have a building on Hanover, not far from Paul Revere's House. I think he's somewhere east of there."

"Are you sure you don't remember the exact name of the street?" Aaron sounded like he didn't believe her.

"It's been a few years since I visited this part of the city." Things might have changed. "I might be wrong, but there was something about it that seemed familiar…"

God, what if she was wrong, and Beasley was bleeding out on a sidewalk somewhere else?

"Show me on my cell where you think it might be." Aaron pulled up the map of the area on his phone.

She leaned closer, brushing against his arm, fighting the awareness that was so completely inappropriate under the circumstances.

"I think it might be on Fleet." She pointed to a gap between buildings. "There. I think it might be there or somewhere along that street. The wall behind Jeff had flaked white paint over red brick. I think that's the place where I've seen brick like that." But it wouldn't be the only place in the city…

She watched Aaron text Frazer the location they were headed to and then tell Griffin the address so he could program the SatNav for Livingstone who was driving.

"Why call me?"

Aaron's lips firmed but he remained silent.

"To taunt me. To say, ‘you're next, Hope, but while you're hiding behind bodyguards, I'm picking off the low hanging fruit.'" Her eyes went wide. "Jeff had bodyguards too. Where are they?"

Aaron shook his head.

Hope didn't like Jeff Beasley, but she didn't want to see him dead.

Less than fifteen minutes since she'd gotten the call, and they were pulling up in front of a manicurist that was closed for the day.

"Yes. Down there." Hope pointed and went to get out of the vehicle.

Aaron clamped his fingers around her arm. "Stay here. Beasley isn't my responsibility. You are."

She opened her mouth.

"No arguments, counselor. Stay here with Livingstone, or we all go home."

She glared at him knowing a man was possibly nearby bleeding to death. "Just go. And be careful."

Aaron and Will Griffin joined Ford Cadell and JJ Hersh on the sidewalk—men who'd been hostile strangers to her only a few days ago. Now she knew bits and pieces of each of them. The idea of any of them being hurt while protecting her was unacceptable. They headed down the alleyway and out of sight.

She called Frazer, but he didn't pick up. She felt so useless. The sound of sirens pierced the air.

Her cell rang. It was Aaron.

"We found him."

"Alive?"

"Yes. But he's in bad shape."

Flashing lights strobed the buildings around them. "Ambulance is almost here."

Livingstone moved the car a few feet along to make room as patrol units rolled up along with the EMTs.

All of a sudden, she was thrown back to the day Danny and Paige were murdered. Her daughter's blue-tinged lips. The slight rise and fall of Danny's chest. The faintest elusive flutter of his heartbeat. Catapulted into the overwhelming fear and terror and sheer helplessness of not having the skills needed to save them.

An invisible steely hand gripped her throat, and she couldn't suck in oxygen. Her body shook and her hands went numb. Her vision turned black along the edges.

"Hope. You're okay. You're having a panic attack. Just breathe." Livingstone's voice was a deep hum in the background as he twisted to face her. To calm her because she was losing her fucking mind.

She nodded and looked out the window, and saw Leech smiling at her from the gloom of an alleyway across the road. At first, she thought it was a flashback. A memory of the smile he'd had on his face as he'd watched her family dying. But he wasn't wearing a suit this time. He wore a wool hat and a jacket over a hoodie, the hood pulled low, casting shadows over his gaunt features.

She fumbled with the door, but the locks clicked shut.

"Nash said to wait here?—"

"Leech! Leech is over there!"

"Where?" Livingstone spun around.

"The guy in black." She fought with her seatbelt. "Shit, he's gone. You have to let me out. He was over there, goddammit!"

She tried the door again and then struggled to lower the window, but that was locked too.

Livingstone was talking into his comms, and she saw Aaron, Griffin, and Cadell come running.

"Let me out of here." She started swearing, and Livingstone finally unlocked the doors as Aaron opened it. He slid inside, forcing her back across the seat.

Hope jabbed her finger toward the alley. "Leech was right over there watching us."

"I didn't see him." Livingstone's tone was concerned.

She glared at the guy.

"You're sure it was him?" Aaron opened the window to look.

Hope grabbed him by the shirt, pulled him nose to nose. "You don't forget the face of a man who violently slaughtered your family."

"Griffin, Cadell, check out that alley. Shane, let's see if we can pick him up coming out the other side. Crow and Hersh stay in position," he told the second car.

Livingstone took off, cruised around North Street, then up Lewis.

She peered out the window and the others did the same. Up ahead she saw a figure and pointed. "There! That's him." The man was walking briskly away from them, head down, hands in pockets. Livingstone sped ahead, and Aaron jumped out and had the man on the ground before she could take a breath.

She followed, ignoring the shouts that told her to stay inside the car. She heard running feet as Griffin and Cadell caught up with them. Excitement surged through her as Aaron pulled the man to his feet and spun him around.

A rock hit her stomach. It wasn't Leech.