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Chapters (97)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright
  4. Dedication
  5. 1.
  6. 2.
  7. 3.
  8. 4.
  9. 5.
  10. 6.
  11. 7.
  12. 8.
  13. 9.
  14. 10.
  15. 11.
  16. 12.
  17. 13.
  18. 14.
  19. 15.
  20. 16.
  21. 17.
  22. 18.
  23. 19.
  24. SIX MONTHS LATER
  25. 20.
  26. 21.
  27. 22.
  28. 23.
  29. 24.
  30. 25.
  31. 26.
  32. 27.
  33. 28.
  34. 29.
  35. 30.
  36. 31.
  37. 32.
  38. 33.
  39. 34.
  40. 35.
  41. 36.
  42. 37.
  43. 38.
  44. 39.
  45. 40.
  46. 41.
  47. 42.
  48. 43.
  49. 44.
  50. 45.
  51. 46.
  52. 47.
  53. 48.
  54. 49.
  55. 50.
  56. 51.
  57. 52.
  58. 53.
  59. 54.
  60. 55.
  61. 56.
  62. 57.
  63. 58.
  64. 59.
  65. 60.
  66. 61.
  67. 62.
  68. 63.
  69. 64.
  70. 65.
  71. 66.
  72. 67.
  73. 68.
  74. 69.
  75. 70.
  76. 71.
  77. 72.
  78. 73.
  79. 74.
  80. 75.
  81. 76.
  82. 77.
  83. 78.
  84. 79.
  85. 80.
  86. 81.
  87. 82.
  88. 83.
  89. 84.
  90. 85.
  91. 86.
  92. 87.
  93. SIX MORE MONTHS LATER
  94. 88.
  95. 89.
  96. Discover More
  97. About the Author

“You’re not thinking of responding, are you?”

He looks at her silently. And then says, shrugging, “I guess not.”

“You guess not?” She looks at him, stunned.

“It’s just…he’d never send a text like that unless he was in pretty serious trouble, right?” says Zack. Trouble somehow more serious than his upcoming trial, thinks Zack. Somehow more serious than possible life in prison. Trouble even an assassin can’t handle.

She looks at him evenly and starts to shake—in rekindled fear? In anger? “He tried to kill us, Zack. He aimed a gun at your head. What are you talking about?”

“Imagine what it would take for him to reach out to me, Emily.”

“You mean, as in balls? As in, insanity?” And she reminds Zack, talking slowly, like a parent to a child, “He sent me a text to lure me to the park. You don’t think that’s just a text to lure you into meeting him? So he can finish what he started?”

“I highly doubt that,” says Zack, shaking his head.

“How do you know? ’Cause you trust him?” Showing Zack the absurdity of his interpretation. “You suddenly trust a hired killer? A killer whose time is running out?”

Of course she’s right. Of course he’s being ridiculous.

She turns back to the sink. “You better not respond to that text. And you better delete it.” And she slams the yogurt container into the trash.

Zack thinks about everything he’s learned about Joey. Everything he saw sitting across from him at the GreenGirl. Dealing with him, playing cat and mouse with him that terrifying day. Joey’s psychological disturbance. Joey’s intellectual limitations. But now, also, Joey’s pain. And Joey’s crazy willingness, in his pain and need, to turn to Zack. Obviously, because he has nowhere else to turn.

The events had connected Zack to Emily. Maybe forever. The truth was, in a similarly powerful way, the events had connected Zack to Joey.

I need your help.

Zack stares at the text.

Ok, he types back. Impulsively. Surprising himself. And from some deep place in him that he doesn’t even pretend to fathom.

Once it’s sent, he deletes Joey’s text and his answer, and he immediately shows the phone to Emily before Joey responds.

She sees that Joey’s text is deleted.

He wants her to be able to sleep at night.

53.

53.

Zack and Joey sit across from each other in a GreenGirl. One that neither has ever been in.