Blaire

I escaped with a few scratches … not even a bump on the head. But Amelia, oh my God, Amelia was in terrible shape. She hadn’t been wearing her seatbelt and got tossed around when the Bentley flipped. No one could explain what had happened. The security vehicle following us mentioned seeing an explosion, and I was sure I heard one. But aside from a flat rear tire, there were no signs of a device. It was as if a strong wind lifted the Bentley and pitched it. The majority of the damage to the car appeared to be from the rollover.

I watched them load Amelia onto the gurney and into an ambulance. Morris got in beside her, and I wanted to as well, but the EMT blocked me. They said they were taking her to Massachusetts General Hospital. I nodded, still in a daze. The driver of the Bentley had a concussion and was loaded into another ambulance. Only Morris and I were unscathed. The rest of the senator’s security team followed the ambulance and seemed to have forgotten me.

I stood there, looking lost, and realized I didn’t have my wristlet. It was somewhere in the mangled vehicle. A Boston cop put an emergency mylar blanket around me and asked if I needed anything.

“Can you take me to the hospital? Where they took Mrs. Thorne?” Most of the first responders had recognized Amelia and were quick to give her assistance. None of the cops even bothered asking me questions about what happened. Morris did all the talking.

The cop smiled at me. “Sure, lady. Come on.”

I’d been sitting in the emergency room waiting area for more than twenty minutes. Morris sat across from me. I could feel the rage flowing off him in waves and they were directed at me.

“Did you manage to call the senator?” I asked tentatively.

“What do you think?” he snapped.

“Morris—”

“This happened because of you,” he said in a low accusing voice.

“I don’t …” my voice faltered. I didn’t know what to say. I was frightened for Amelia.

The ER doors slid open and the senator, Grant, and Valerie entered in a rush, followed by Gus and Andy and a host of other men in suits. Their security details, I presumed, because Jake was among them. Morris stood and headed for the senator who went straight to triage. My eyes were glued to Grant and I saw relief in his eyes. I got up from my chair, my legs wobbly, but I managed to move toward him. But something changed from my one step to the next. Grant’s eyes turned flat and his face shuttered.

“It’s all your fault!” Valerie shrieked as she charged me.

Grant hooked his arm around her waist, holding her back. “Val!”

“No. You brought her into our lives,” she screamed, still trying to get to me. “And now Mom is dying!”

I could only shake my head. “I’m sorry.” I looked at Grant, but his eyes were dead, even as mine filled with tears. “Grant—”

“You need to leave.” His words cut right through the heart of me.

“You heard him. Get out of here!” Val continued squirming in her brother’s arms, her fingers clawing out like they wanted to tear me to pieces. There was no need—I was already shredded inside.

“Christ,” Grant muttered. He handed Val to Jake and stalked toward me. There was only anger on his face and I wanted the ground to swallow me up. He grabbed my bicep. “You can’t be here, Blaire.” He turned to Jake. “Find Tyler and tell him to take Ms. Callahan home.”

“You’ll let me know as soon as—” I started.

“Dammit, Blaire, I can’t do this right now,” Grant growled. “Look at Dad.” He pointed to the senator who had collapsed into a chair; his face buried in his hands. “My family is falling apart.” Because of you was unsaid, but I could feel the condemnation in his words. “Now leave!”

He let me go with a shove toward the exit and turned his back on me, heading to his father. I stood there, unsure of what to do. Do I wait for Tyler here? I fidgeted from side to side and flinched when I caught Valerie’s glare. She had calmed down, but Jake was still holding her back. I could feel eyes on me and all of them were hostile. All, except one pair—Andy’s. He walked to my side and cupped my elbow.

“Let’s go, Blaire.”

I left the ER and I left Grant behind.

Only that time, he’d asked, no, told me to leave.

* * *

“Are you sure you don’t want to wait for Tyler to take you home?” Andy asked. We’d been walking along the perimeter of the hospital. I felt so suffocated inside the ER, I needed to walk for a while and Andy kept me company.

“I couldn’t take all the accusing eyes anymore,” I whispered. “We’re over—Grant and I. I could feel it. What happened to Amelia was the final straw.”

“Don’t jump to conclusions,” Andy advised. “It could be white supremacists. Emotions are high and raw right now and you are an easy target for the blame.”

“I know, and I can’t fault any of them for feeling that way, but I didn’t ask for this. I told Grant I was a bad bet. I know I don’t have the right to be mad at him. His mother is in critical condition.” I suppressed a sob that threatened to escape. “But he made me hope,” I choked. “He gave me hope that we were going to make it.”

“Hey,” Andy nudged me. “Stop that. There’s always hope, Blaire.”

I wiped the tears from my face. Looking up the night sky, I shook my head. “Every hope I have is for Amelia to make it. I keep none for myself,” I turned to look at my one and only friend at the moment. “Can you take me back to Grant’s place?”

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Andy said.

I understood what he meant. I was packing my things and leaving Grant for good.

“Yes,” I answered. “Even if it turns out to be white supremacists, I can see now how my link to the ROC will always come between us.” Misery burned my eyes again. “I’ll need your number, so I can find out how Amelia is doing. God, I hope she’ll be fine.”

We walked to the parking lot and reached Andy’s car. “It’s okay to change your mind, you know,” he said, glancing at the ER entrance.

“I shouldn’t have come back,” I said with regret. “Now I’m sure of it.”

We were about to get into the vehicle when a black van screeched behind us. The side door slid open and three men in ski masks jumped out.

“Run!” I screamed as I kicked the first man who came at me. My damned dress restricted my movements and I only caught his thigh.

“Blaire!” Andy yelled as he tried to punch the man who confronted him.

My assailant was huge and as he reached toward me, I scooted under his arm and elbowed him. He grunted and shook off my strike. “Run, Andy!”

I heard a muffled pop and, to my horror, Andy crumpled to the ground. “No!” I couldn’t have a death on my conscience in addition to Amelia’s injuries.

I gave up the struggle.

On everything.

Just take me and kill me.

I’m already dead inside anyway.

Everyone will be better off.

“Time to go home, Paulina.” My captor spoke in Russian. I felt a needle prick my skin and I welcomed the drug. Maybe I wouldn’t wake up.

I’m tired of running.

These were my last thoughts before blackness claimed me.