I looked down at Bruce Porter—or what was left of him. The dwarf was in the same position as before, his body broken from the fall and his sightless eyes staring up into the night sky. But what made my stomach twist was his mouth. He’d coughed up so much blood that his mouth was a dark red stain against the rest of his face, almost as if he’d painted his own lips with Heartbreaker lipstick.
I shivered, and Owen pulled me a little closer.
“What do you want to do about Porter?” Silvio asked.
I didn’t even have to think about it. “Leave him. Out here in the open, just like he left all those poor girls. The bastard doesn’t deserve a proper burial.”
And that’s exactly what we did. One by one, we looked at the Dollmaker a final time, then turned and left him behind, as bloody, broken, and dead as his victims.
28
I didn’t remember everything that happened after that. Just bits and pieces. Owen carrying me along the riverbank. Jo-Jo keeping a close eye on me, making sure that I was healed well enough to keep going. Bria, Finn, and Silvio asking me questions. Me babbling and babbling, trying to tell them what had happened. I didn’t know if they understood everything I said, but I thought they got the gist of what had gone down with Tucker, Rivera, and Porter.
“Rivera,” I said at one point. “We need to go back to the mansion. We need to get Rivera before he gets away . . .”
“Don’t worry about Rivera,” Bria said in a grim voice. “I’m working on a warrant to arrest that son of a bitch, and Xavier is watching the mansion. Rivera’s not going anywhere.”
“But we have to get him now . . .”
“No, darling,” Jo-Jo said in a firm voice. “We have to get you out of here. Rivera can wait.”
I’d never been able to argue with Jo-Jo, and I was still a little out of it, so I fell silent. But my mind churned, plotting the best way to go after Rivera as soon as possible.
Eventually, the high, jagged cliffs dwindled down to a small hill, and we were able to climb back up into the woods and leave the Rivera estate far, far behind. Owen tucked me into his car, and the next thing I knew, Bria was helping me get into the shower, and I was crawling into bed in one of the guest rooms at Jo-Jo’s house. I fell asleep almost immediately, and for once, no nightmares disturbed me.
Sometime late the next morning, sounds started intruding on my peaceful slumber. Namely, the bedroom door opening and someone tiptoeing inside, trying to be quiet, although he stepped on a creaky floorboard, totally ruining the surprise. I rolled over onto my side and opened my eyes to see Owen standing by the foot of the bed, holding a tray full of food.
“Hey,” I said, my voice still thick with sleep.
“Hey, yourself. It’s almost noon, but I thought you might want some breakfast.”
I thought of the meal that Bruce Porter had laid out on his kitchen table last night. “Just as long as it’s not lemon-pepper chicken.”
Owen frowned, not understanding what I was talking about. But I didn’t want to ruin the lighthearted mood, so I decided not to fill him in on that particular detail. Not yet anyway. I propped some pillows behind my back so that I could sit up.
Owen bowed low, then set the tray down on my lap and gave an elaborate flourish with his hand. “And breakfast is served, Madame.”
“You’ve been hanging around Finn too long.”
He grinned. “Maybe, but it seemed like the appropriate thing to do.”
“Just don’t go around talking about yourself in the third person. Or with an English accent.”
“I’ll try to refrain from that.” He paused and added a suave note to his voice, doing his best impression of Finn. “Although it will be hard, considering how absolutely, incredibly, adorably awesome I am.”
“You are adorably awesome, especially when you’re bringing me food,” I teased.
Owen winked and saluted me with his hand. “Happy to oblige, ma’am.”
He settled himself on the bed next to me, and the two of us dug into the breakfast that he’d prepared. Blueberry pancakes, applewood-smoked bacon, and a light, refreshing fruit salad made with strawberries, white grapes, kiwi slices, lime juice, and a drizzle of sourwood honey for extra sweetness.
Finally, we finished our meal, and Owen addressed the elephant in the room.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, his gaze flicking to my still-blond hair.
“Not really, but I guess I should.”
Owen removed the tray from the bed, sat back down next to me, and put his arm around my shoulders. I told him everything that had happened last night, much more coherently than I had done before, from waking up in Porter’s cottage, to using my Stone magic to escape, to throwing myself and the dwarf off the side of the cliffs.
“But what about your knives?” Owen asked. “How did you get them back? And why were they in that black satchel?”
“I’m not sure. That part is still a little fuzzy.”
I wasn’t lying. It was still a little fuzzy, although I thought that I knew exactly who the man in black was. But I had no way of confirming my suspicions at the moment, so I kept my theory to myself.
Owen looked at me, concern filling his face. “Are you sure that you’re okay, Gin? Last night, everything that Porter said and did, that had to be horrible, even for you.”
“Okay?” I shrugged. “I don’t know about that. But I’m as well as can be expected. I’m just glad that we were able to save Elissa.”
“She owes you her life,” Owen said.
I winked at him. “And I owe you mine.”
“Nah,” he said, winking back at me. “You saved yourself, just like you always do.”
I leaned over and put my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. “Maybe. But it’s still nice to know how much you care.”
Owen wrapped his arms around me, pulled me even closer, and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I’ll always be here for you,” he said in a hoarse, ragged voice. “When you were missing, when we couldn’t find you . . . my heart was just . . . gone.”
“I know,” I whispered back. “I know.”
And we stayed like that, holding each other close, for a long, long time.
? ? ?
It took some doing, but I finally managed to convince Owen that I was fine and that he should go into work. He reluctantly agreed but made me promise to call him if anything happened. But nothing was going to happen. At least, not until I figured out the best way to get close to Damian Rivera. No doubt he’d doubled or even tripled his security by now, but a few extra guards weren’t going to stop me from finally asking him all my many questions about the Circle.
Owen left, and I took a long, hot shower to ease some of the lingering aches and pains in my muscles. Then I put on fresh clothes and headed downstairs.
Since it was Friday, I expected the salon to be full of customers, but only four people were in the room: Jo-Jo and Sophia, along with Jade and Elissa.