“No,” I say, pulling out of his grip. He stops at the sharpness
in my tone. I close my eyes, my pulse still racing. “It’s not that
I don’t want to. But I just don’t think I can have a good time
until I know you’re going to be okay.”
Lawrence exhales. “Cassandra…”
“No,” I say. “We have to work. Now, tell me what happened today.”
A shadow crosses Lawrence’s face. “What is it?”
“You’re not going to like it,” he says.
His ominous tone makes my stomach twist. “Tell me.”
Lawrence smoothes his wet hair back. “Charles and I did
a little digging around a Cooper Enterprises warehouse. We
saw… things.”
“What things?” I demand, grabbing him.
“I don’t want you to worry any more than you already are.”
“Are you crazy? This is important. Tell me now, Lawrence.”
He scratches the back of his neck. “We saw…a man being
executed. Shot in the a head behind the warehouse.”
Ice spreads through my chest. “Are you serious?”
He nods grimly. “We barely escaped.”
My fingers dig into his arm. “You mean you were noticed?”
“It’s not as bad as it sounds—”
“What are you talking about? Of course it’s bad! These people
are dangerous, and you being seen by them…”
My voice drops away, lost in the heaviness of the implication.
Could Lawrence have just created his own fate? Or sealed it?
Judging by look on his face, I’d say Lawrence has already
trudged down this dark road. I pull him into a hug. Seeing
him this way makes my heart burst with a mix of sorrow and
determination.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say firmly. “It’s pretty clear that someone at Cooper Enterprises is responsible for…” I can’t say the
words. I pull away, heading for the house. “Jerome Smith. That
was his name, right? I’ll go look him up right now.”
Lawrence grabs my hand. “Don’t.”
When I turn, his gaunt fear brings tears to my eyes.
“Don’t leave me yet,” he says, his voice soft, almost as if he’s
ashamed of the request. My heart breaks.
I fall into his arms and he closes me in a tight embrace. He
holds me as if I’m his lifeline, as if I’m the lone railing that will
keep him from pitching over the edge of a cliff. I hold him,
overwhelmed by the heaviness of my task. Can I save him? Is
there really a chance, or are we just kidding ourselves?
Lawrence releases a trembling breath into my neck. “Would
you think less of me if I told you I was afraid?”
“How could you not be? I’m afraid too, Lawrence. So afraid.”
His grip tightens. He’s nearly squeezing the breath out of me.
“I don’t want to die.”
Then suddenly he releases me. His expression is desolate as he
stares out over the black, rolling waves.
“Forgive me, Cassandra. I don’t mean to burden you with
these thoughts. I should bear this alone. Like a man.”
I grab his shoulders, forcing him to look at me. “You listen to
me. We’re in this together. Understand? I’m not giving up on
you. And you shouldn’t give up either. I was sent here to save
you. I’m going to figure out who wants to kill you so we can
save your life, and then we can be together.”
I listen to myself and a dry laugh escapes. “Trust me, I would
never be this cheesy if I didn’t truly believe what I’m saying.”
He pulls away. “Maybe you shouldn’t believe,” he says quietly.
I’m stung by his words. “What?”
“It’s a fairy tale, Cassandra.”
“Oh, is it? And what about this?” I motion to him and me
and the beach.
I take his hand and press it to my cheek. “What about this?”
He stares into my eyes, as if grasping for the thin strands of
hope I’m offering. He sets his other hand on my cheek. I press
my hands over his.
“If we can see each other,” I say. “If we can touch each other
with almost a hundred years separating us, how can you think