"Oh, God," she said.
"I don't want it to be this way."
"So make it different," she snapped.
When he stared at her in stony silence, she shook her head. "I can't believe you're prepared to just walk away."
His response was quiet. "I'm sorry, Grace. I really am."
She thrust her chin up and brushed by him, going over to her desk and taking out a checkbook.
"I think you should just leave now." She began hastily scribbling with a gold pen. She ripped the check free and held it out to him. "Go on. Take it. Let's just end this now."
"Not until Tiny's here."
"You said you wanted to leave, so pack your things and get the hell out. I have no interest in being passed off to one of your boys."
Tension crackled in the air as the check hung between them. He slowly came forward and took it out of her hand only to put it down on the desk.
"I'm not going anywhere until Tiny shows up."
"I don't think you understand," she said, pointing at the front door. "You and Black Watch are fired. Get out."
His voice was flat when he spoke, belying in its softness his awesome will. "I'm not leaving until I know you're safe."
Rage, borne out of hurt and frustration, had her blinking tears away. "This is incredibly cruel of you. To say that you're going and then force me to—"
"You have no idea what it was like when you disappeared."
She threw her arms up.
"I'm sorry. I said I was sorry." She bunched her hands into fists. "And I came back."
He cut her off. "I have seen death up close before, Grace. Imagining yours was the closest I've come to crying in thirty years."
She shut her mouth, stunned.
"I don't know what I would do" he said with stark emphasis, "if anything ever happened to you. The depth of my fear tells me I have to leave you in someone else's protection. And that I can't see you again."
Impulsively, she reached for his hands. "No, you're wrong. If you care that much for me, you shouldn't go."
"Grace, don't delude yourself. Those three women who were killed weren't careful enough. You need to be ruthless about your safety, as ruthless as that man who's cutting up your friends. You don't want me to be watching you and you don't want me hanging around in your life. Trust me on this."
"So let Tiny or whoever come. That doesn't mean you have to leave. We can figure out the future, together."
He shook his head. "A clean break is the only way."
She dropped his hands and turned away, sensing there'd be no negotiating with him. He was leaving and there was nothing she could do about it. In a rush, a numb feeling washed over her, taking away some of the pain.
"I don't want Tiny," she said.“I don't want him."
Because he will only remind me of you, she thought.
"Grace, don't let your anger at me impair your judgment about letting someone take care of you. You know it's not safe for you to be alone right now."
She thought about her three friends.
As much as she was mad at John, she wasn't going to be stupid about her own life. No man, even him, was worth getting killed over.
Although, Christ, with the pain in her chest at the moment, she felt half-dead already.
Grace squared her shoulders. "When will Tiny be here?"
"Twenty-four hours if all goes well."
"And what about the Gala? You realize it's this weekend. I still have every intention of going."
"If he can get a few men to cover him, and you allow Marks and his squad in the building that whole day and through the event, the risks could be mitigated. The killer does seem to like getting them at home. But it's Tiny's call. Myself, I wouldn't take the chance."
The hell it was Tiny's choice, she thought.
She was willing to concede that John was right. She still needed a bodyguard. But not one from Black Watch. She had twenty-four hours to find another firm.
And one day until she never saw John again.
She lifted her chin.
"I want to make something clear," she said. "I think you're making a terrible mistake by walking out on me and I have to question whether you really feel as deeply about me as you say you do. It strikes me that if you were truly concerned for my well-being, you would move heaven and earth to be by my side."
"Grace, I—"
"Stop lecturing me. And while you're at it, stop being so convinced you have all the answers and listen. I think you love me, John, and for a man who's lived his life alone, that's probably scaring the hell out of you. I can't help wishing you'd find the strength to stay but I'm done with begging. If you leave me now, know this. I'm not going to wait for you. I'm going on with my life. And I may never be able to open my heart to you again."
She shook her head sadly as she turned away from him.
chapter
22
When Grace rolled over at five a.m. the next morning, she caught a whiff of coffee brewing and knew John was up.
Facing him was something she needed to prepare for, so she took a bracingly cool shower and put on one of her power suits. It was black and formfitting, with lapels that were trimmed with a thin red piping, and she felt stronger wearing it. With a pair of high heels and a splash of vibrant red on her lips, she felt like she'd armored herself to get through the day.
When she came down the hall, John was on his cell phone, pacing back and forth between the living room and the dining room. The expression on his face was grim and he looked up at her.
"No, let me do it," he said under his breath and then hung up.
She shot him a cool stare.
"Isadora Cunis was attacked last night."
Grace's throat closed up.
Feeling her defensive pose crumble, she began to shake. "I thought she and her husband had gone out of state. What happened?"
"She came back to get ready for her event. She was found in the lobby of her building. She'd evidently been attacked in her home and somehow managed to drag herself into the elevator. Considering how extensive her wounds were, that maneuver was a miracle. She's in a coma at Lenox Hill."
Grace reached out a hand to steady herself and felt the cool plane of the wall under her palm. "How did he get to her?"
John shrugged. "There's only one explanation. She knew him and she let him in."
Grace fumbled with the buttons of her jacket and took it off, throwing it over the arm of the sofa. Against the creamy fabric, she thought the splash of black looked violent.
"Good Lord," she whispered, sitting down. She crossed her legs at the ankles and folded her hands in her lap.
As if arranging her body would somehow order her mind.
"I—I don't think I’m going to go to Connecticut,'' she said.
"I'll call Eddie."
She heard the electronic beeping from his phone as he dialed and then the rumble of his voice.
She imagined Isadora lying in a hospital bed and grieved for the woman's suffering.
"Grace?"
At the sound of her name, she looked up and saw that he was kneeling in front of her.
"Grace? Do you want me to tell Kat that you're not going in today?"
She started to nod but then looked around the penthouse. The fact that the women were being attacked in their homes made the place feel somehow contaminated.
"No. I think I'd rather go to work."
Grace started to get to her feet and John offered a hand to help her up.
She forced herself not to take it.
"I need some time to myself," she said, heading for her room. "If you'll excuse me?" She didn't wait for a response.