BooksBarbecue
Back No Going Back: a Novel Save as PDF
Chapters (84)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Part 1
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. Part 2
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. Part 3
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. Part 4
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. Part 5
  60. 53
  61. 54
  62. 55
  63. 56
  64. 57
  65. 58
  66. Part 6
  67. 59
  68. 60
  69. 61
  70. 62
  71. 63
  72. 64
  73. 65
  74. 66
  75. 67
  76. 68
  77. 69
  78. 70
  79. 71
  80. 72
  81. Acknowledgments
  82. About the Author
  83. Also by Sheena Kamal
  84. About the Publisher

“Do you have someone who can look into it? To see if he’s there?” I ask, knowing that if anyone has the resources to find Dao in Indonesia, it’s Bernard Lam.

“I have something even better,” Lam says. “I have a private plane that can take us there to take a look ourselves.”

“What do we do if we find him?” I ask. I don’t want to give him the impression that I need a man to make plans for me, because I never have. This is about his intentions.

“Let’s cross that bridge when we get there. What do you say, Nora? You up for a trip?”

“I could use some sun.”

Lam laughs. “I’ll make the arrangements.” He hangs up.

It’s easy to picture him in his Point Grey mansion, cackling to himself over a cigar, loosening his tie, calling his assistant’s assistant to get the plane ready, stat, because he’s in the mood to catch some sun while he takes down a crime syndicate.

I wonder if he loved that woman as much as he thinks he did or if this is merely a grand ol’ adventure for him. Dao is my endgame, but he’s not Lam’s, which some small part of me is concerned by. A very small part that I choose to shove away.

Nolan’s body may be in a coffin in the earth right now, I don’t know. I have pushed him so far from my mind that I hadn’t even thought to check. But thoughts of him come back to me now. Who is the instrument of whose revenge here? Lam is using me as surely as I’m using him. But at this moment, sapped of all energy but still unable to fall asleep, I can’t bring myself to care.

At least there are no neon lights flashing at me through the window. Here there is only a comfortable couch and my dog on the floor beside me and the blessed night. James Carr is wailing from my laptop speakers—well, Leo’s laptop speakers. He’s singing about two strangers at the dark end of the street, where they always meet. Not in the light because the light isn’t for them. They live in darkness, just like me. No, not just like me anymore. Because I’m heading for the sunshine on a private plane, like the socialite I never wanted to be.

31

It’s the middle of the night, and they’re in bed. Bonnie can’t remember if Alix had turned in to her or if she’d been the one to turn in to Alix. Now the two of them are kissing and she can’t remember the last time she felt this good.

This safe.