Joe doesn’t want to put his gun down to open the door, but he doesn’t have any choice. Through my thundering heart and the strange calm of certain death, I realize he’ll have to let go of the gun. He can’t let go of me. If he does, I’ll bolt. I’ll make him chase me.

It’s broad daylight. It’s a sunny day. People would see. It would get complicated, and messy. Where would I run? Somewhere that wouldn’t put other people in danger. But he’s not going to let that happen. No, of course he’s not.

He doesn’t let go. He shoves the gun into the waistband of his pants and reaches for the door handle.

The door opens.

This isn’t how I want to die.

My body jolts back from the open door, fighting anyway. I don’t want Kevin and Grace to die for this. I don’t want anyone at the café to be hurt. But I don’t want to get in that car. I know better than to get in that car.

Joe’s hands shove at me. It’s a losing battle. He’s going to get me into that back seat. My muscles resist him, but I won’t be able to resist forever.

I think of Beau.

He’s the one image in my mind as Joe pushes and shoves and curses. Beau. He’ll be devastated. He’ll be so sad, and feel so guilty. He’ll blame himself for this.

I know how it will look. It will look like anger, but it will be pure grief. It will be the rest of his life. My one regret is that I can’t stop that from happening.

My one regret is that I can’t kiss him goodbye.

Chapter Thirty-One

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Beau Rochester

Waiting for the outcome of the trial has me on edge. Dropping Jane off at her café hasn’t improved the situation. I can’t keep my phone in my pocket. Can’t stop checking for updates. I get in line at a bank down the block from the café. My car’s parked in the lot back there, and I should have stayed, too.

I came to get some cash for my wallet. An errand to run so Jane could have a few minutes with her friends. The line finally clears. The woman behind the counter smiles at me. “What can I do for you today?”

I push the card with my account number over to her and set my phone face-up, close to me. “I need five hundred.” Could have gone to the ATM for this, but it would take less time. I’d be interrupting Jane. She deserves some aspect of normalcy in her life. A coffee with friends that isn’t dominated by some rich, grumpy asshole at the table.

“Sure. Anything else?”