We head up dark stairs, across a series of hallways, then down ten flights of stairs in a weird relay formation. When I spot the black van sitting on the curb, I don’t know whether to be frightened or relieved. One way or the other, this is about to be over.
We step out into light rain and my feet are wet and cold in seconds.
Clay is about to shove me into the back of the van when sirens rip through the air. He drags me against his body, and starts fumbling for his belt.
I take advantage of his distraction and bite down hard on the arm restraining my shoulder.
“Fucking bitch!”
The moment his grip loosens, I break free and run. I only get two blocks before I hear another siren behind me.
“FBI. Stop!”
I stop immediately, thrust my hands into the air.
Heart hammering, teeth clenched, I wait.
“Are you Elyse Gilbert?”
I tentatively turn my head. “Y…yes?”
One male and one female officer approach. “Was Clayton Getty holding you against your will?”
“Yes. Where am I?” I ask.
“You’re in the Bronx. Put your hands down, Miss. We will be taking you in for questioning, but you’re not under arrest.”
“I’m not?”
The female officer who approaches, shakes her head. “Are you all right?”
I stop and think about the answer. Everything inside me shakes. “No. I’m not.”
She nods, and her assessing gaze lingers on the bruise on my temple. “Well, let’s see about reversing that, shall we? The ambulance is here. We’ll get you some medical attention.” She beckons me closer.
My numb feet move toward her.
“Oh, and your lawyers are here.”
“My lawyers?”
The male officer thumbs a black limo idling on the curb. “Yeah, they insisted on being here, and since they were instrumental in giving us the phone number we used to track and find you, we obliged their request…”
His words fade away as the back door opens and a sharp-suited black guy I’ve never seen before steps out. Closely behind him, Fionnella steps out.
Then the door on the farthest side opens.
Quinn steps out. Rushes round to where the other two are standing.
Across the street, rabid silver blue eyes spear into me. His hair is spiky, his unshaven face holding a million more shadows. In his eyes I read remorse, fear, determination.
#p#分页标题#e#
He starts to cross the street toward me. “Elyse…thank God you’re okay.” His gravel-rough voice is grittier. Bleaker than I’ve ever heard it.
I don’t want to hear it now.
“No!” I take a step back.
He keeps coming.
Everything I saw on the laptop in the basement rushes back. I stagger back until my shoulder bumps hard into an iron railing. Both FBI officers halt, their gazes swinging between me and Quinn.
Q.
Whoever the fuck he’s decided to be today.
“Elyse, baby. Please, let me explain—”
“Stay away from me!”
The female officer’s hands fly out towards Quinn in a halting gesture.
The male officer frowns. “Miss Gilbert—”
“Officers, I don’t want those people anywhere near me,” I yell shakily.
Quinn’s eyes flare in alarm. One hand spikes through his hair. “God, please! I need…please, don’t do this…Elyse.”
The sound of my name on his lips freaks me out harder.
“No!” Hysteria ravages my voice, but I’m past caring. “I don’t care if you have to arrest me, but please keep Quinn Blackwood away from me!”
40
AFTER PARTY
Three months later
I stand at the fence, coffee in hand, and watch horse and rider canter in a perfect circle. It’s far too early on a Sunday morning to be inhaling horse manure, but the opportunity to spend time with Petra is a godsend. An impossibility I never dreamed would come true.
My baby sister laughs as her mare throws her head. I find myself laughing too. How can I not? Her laugher is the most beautiful sound in the world.
Doris and Paul join me at the fence. I smile at my sister’s adoptive parents and we watch her in silence for a few minutes.
“She’s a natural, isn’t she?” Doris’s voice radiates pure maternal pride.
I nod. “She sure is.” I look over at her. “Thank you.”
The older woman squeezes my arm. “Thank you for all you did to protect her. At least now that man is behind bars, we can all rest a little easier.”
That man.
Clayton Getty.
The road to his incarceration wasn’t easy. He had too many officials in his back pocket and tried to call in favors far and wide, stalling for as long as possible the FBI’s attempts to bring multiple charges.