We were both breathing fast. “No, I think O’Shea is. My father would never do anything like that. He’s lying to you, Elle. Don’t you see? He’s been playing you. It was his plan all along to do this, to include you at the end. It had to be.”
I lifted my chin, defiant, determined. Thoughts were churning in my mind and the more I thought about it, the less my bravado held strong. “No, Logan. He’s doing what he has to in order to protect his daughter.”
“Then where’d the coke come from?”
I looked at him. I’d already told him I didn’t know.
“He had to have had it stashed somewhere. Don’t you see—he’s been putting your life and Clementine’s in harm’s way.”
“Why would he do that?”
“Who the fuck knows? Waiting to see what he could get away with.”
I didn’t want to believe it, but where did all the coke come from?
“Listen to me, Elle. I’ve been working with the DEA for more than four months to help bring down the Flannigan family.”
Shock ripped through me. “Working, how? Why?”
“They threatened to arrest my father if I didn’t cooperate, and tonight is the night they are looking to bring it all home. They want the drugs, the location, the people involved, and they want me to furnish it.”
Crippling horror shook my entire body. I stifled my scream. My urgency to run was never greater. How could I take care of Clementine behind bars? How could I leave her? “No, Logan. No,” I cried hysterically.
My wrists were still imprisoned in his grasp, but his grip became loose and his hands spread, searching for my fingers. He was holding my hands. He was leaning his body against mine. He was whispering in my ear. I was an utter mess. Hysterical. Unresponsive. Terrified.
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I care about you.”
His words punched the air out of me. They were an echo. They were on repeat. He was saying them over and over until finally I heard him.
My gaze flickered up to his. “You care about me?”
He nodded but didn’t repeat it. “And you have to trust me. I will make this right.”
My world was shattering into a thousand pieces. “How? How can this ever be right?”
He pulled me closer still. His mouth was now hovering over my ear. “I’m going to take the cocaine and plant it at a strip club that Tommy and Patrick own. Then I’m going to call the DEA and tell them you overheard Michael talking on the phone and mentioned an exchange at Lucy’s. While I’m moving the coke, you are going to go to O’Shea and tell him you were mistaken and it wasn’t his shipment that arrived. It was something else for the boutique. Tell him you called the company and it had been subbed out to a third party, and that it is scheduled for delivery first thing in the morning. Don’t mention me. Don’t say anything else. I want you out of this. The DEA are watching the house, so if anything happens, look for the unmarked cars on the street.”
“What if Michael doesn’t believe me?”
“Don’t give him the chance to question you. He knows Peyton was hurt, right?”
I nodded.
“Tell him she called you and she didn’t sound good. Tell him you think you should go stay with her for the night and that you’ll be at work first thing in the morning. Then pack your bag and leave.”
“Can’t I just call him?”
He shook his head. “I want the DEA to see you go there so they can confirm you gave me the information after talking to O’Shea. Call me as soon as you talk to O’Shea. Then I’ll know I can call the DEA. Got it?”
My heart was beating so fast. My pulse was racing. This was beyond lying. This was deception. This was a high-stakes game I had no business being involved in. “Yes,” I managed.
He gave me a knowing nod and then released his grip on me. “Clementine isn’t home, right?”
“No, she’s not—she’s at Erin’s.”
Just then, as if it knew we needed a reminder of how we’d started out, that damn cuckoo clock from Germany started to sing.
In the midst of all the madness, he still gave me a grin.
I wanted to kiss him but wasn’t certain that was anything he’d want.
As if reading my mind, Logan kissed me, hesitantly. Lightly.
“Kiss me harder,” I said against his mouth.
He did.
And we kissed and kissed and kissed.
Rough. Teeth clashing. Chins bumping. Lips biting.
Breathless, we both pulled apart.
“What do I do after I pack a bag?” I asked.
Logan yanked out his wallet and opened it, handing me ten crisp one-hundred-dollar bills. “You go to the Mandarin on Boylston Street, at the intersection—”
“I know where it is,” I interrupted.
“Check in and use cash under the last name Smith. Leave a key for me. I’ll be there as soon as I’m done. And you said Peyton was coming back to work tomorrow?”
I nodded.
“See if you can get her to open up the boutique. By then the bust should be all over the news and Michael won’t be looking to make any deliveries to Patrick. Still, just in case, I’d rather you be unreachable until I can figure out what’s next.”