68. SARA

Last night was the longest night of my life since the one when I sent Chance away from my door all those years ago.

Sleep avoided me like an angry ex all night. I lay awake staring at the ceiling of Kelsey’s living room for what seemed like an eternity, going over my decisions in my head. So many regrets. So many uncertainties.

I wonder what Chance is doing this afternoon as I walk to the Starbucks near Bishop & Associates’ office. When Grace called in a panic, I tried to think of an out-of-the-way place to meet that wouldn’t be under surveillance, but then I thought fuck it. I’m already tired of running.

She waves at me through the window as I approach the door. Once inside, I slide into the seat across from her.

“That’s my blouse,” I grump. “And you couldn’t have bought me a coffee?”

I can tell by her eyes that Grace is busting at the seams to tell me something. I told her not to talk about it over the phone, even though I can’t help but wonder if Chance isn’t completely full of shit about all this surveillance stuff.

“What’s got you so wound up?”

“Shit is getting real, Sara,” she hisses as she leans over the table. “Quentin Pearce came by the office this morning with a check for $150,000. He said he needed to talk to you – he used the word ‘imperative.’ And he told me to mention somebody named Sebastian Dacosta to you. He said you’d know what he was talking about.”

It’s as if I dared the universe to throw me one more fucking curveball, come on, let’s see what you got. Now it’s flying straight for my head.

Grace looks around to see if anyone is listening to us. The coast is clear.

“And then I saw the news online,” she whispers. “The guy Pearce said to mention was murdered yesterday afternoon, Sara. What the fuck is going on here?”

God, I wish I knew.

“What did you tell him?” I ask. “Did you give him back the check?”

“No!” she snaps. “We still have bills to pay. And to be honest, Pearce didn’t seem like the bad guy you made him out to be. He was concerned about your safety.”

“His friends attacked me in the park, Grace!”

“Are you sure about that?” she asks. “Or were they defending themselves against you?”

The moments run through my mind again: they definitely started it, but if I’m being honest, Pearce didn’t condone what they did. He tried to get them to stop. “Don’t hurt her! I told him this was a stupid idea!”

Christ, I’m actually sitting here wondering if I can trust Quentin Pearce. Of all people.

Grace’s voice snaps me out of my head.

“I told him I’d try to get in touch with you,” she says. “So here I am. Tre is working with him, Sara. Why won’t Chance? What’s the deal?”

I shake my head. “It’s too complicated to go into here.”

“How convenient,” she says with a fake smile. “Look, Sara, all I’m saying is that Quentin Pearce didn’t seem like the demon you made him out to be, and Tre thinks he’s all right. And he paid us what he said he would. Meanwhile, you and Chance just keep saying ‘bad guy.’ Well, pardon me for not thinking the same way you do.”

I’m so exhausted that I’m actually considering this. ’I told him this was a stupid idea!’ Is Pearce under the thumb of his partner? Maybe he actually is trying to help me. I can’t be sure of anything anymore.

“So what does he want with me?” I ask.

“He said he just wants to talk,” Grace pleads. “That can’t hurt anything, can it?”

How should I know? The last time we talked, I beat the shit out of his associates. But that was before Dacosta showed up dead and Chance started lying to me.

“Fine,” I say. “Give me his number. I don’t have the contacts from my other phone.”

She slides a piece of paper across the table and I tuck it into my purse.

“Sara, are you really okay?” she asks. “You’re in the same clothes you were wearing yesterday. And where is Chance?”

“I’m fine,” I lie as I stand up to leave. “And I don’t know where Chance is.” That’s the truth.

“Then what are you going to do?”

I run my hands down my face to try and wipe the exhaustion from my mind.

“I’m going to get to the bottom of this,” I sigh. “No more running. I’m going to start taking the fight to them.”