Chapter Three

I’m not ready.

Unfortunately it didn’t matter, because she didn’t have a choice about doing this.

Diane followed the coroner down the hallway in a complete daze. Her body moved on autopilot, the rubber soles of her sneakers squeaking against the linoleum. The harsh overhead lights glared off the white walls, hurting her eyes. A stale smell hung in the air. And with every step she took, bringing her closer and closer to the double doors at the end of the hall, the more the bubble of panic burned inside her chest.

The coroner, a young woman in her late-twenties, paused at the doors to look at her, her brown eyes sympathetic behind the lenses of her stylish glasses. “Are you ready?”

Diane stared at her for a moment. No, I’m not ready. I’ll never be ready. She rubbed her cold, damp palms against her jeans and nodded, her heart thudding painfully against her ribs.

The harsh, stringent scent of chemicals hit her as soon as the door swung open. Everything was eerily quiet, completely sterile. Cold. A stainless steel autopsy table sat empty in the center of the room. In front of her, a wall of stainless steel compartments with handles covered one end of the room.

The soles of her shoes stuck to the floor. She faced that terrible wall, every muscle in her body drawn taut as the pathologist stepped forward to grasp one of the handles. A metallic click echoed in the unnatural stillness of the room, then the door slid open. The woman reached in and began pulling out the refrigerated drawer inside.

Diane took an involuntary step back, terror gripping her. But no matter how afraid she was, she couldn’t tear her gaze away from that drawer. Could only stare as the body came out, covered in a pristine white sheet, then the pathologist began to draw it down to reveal the victim.

Dark hair. A ghostly pale face, almost blue.

An inhuman sound ripped free of her chest. One trembling hand went to her mouth, agony and horror knifing through her. Bailey.

“Nooooo,” she cried, the sound scraping over her raw throat. She wanted to scream it. Prayed for this to be a horrible mistake. A sick joke.

But the irrefutable evidence was right before her.

Her beautiful twenty-two-year-old daughter lay stretched out on that cold steel slab, eyes closed. A bluish tinge surrounded her eyes, mouth and nose, the little star-shaped piercing there glinting in the unforgiving overhead lights.

Diane’s legs gave out. Pain shot through her knees, jolted through her entire body as she hit the linoleum floor. The pathologist gasped and lunged forward to grab her. Diane lashed out with her arms, a feral cry of rage and agony emitting from her lips.

Her stomach twisted. She doubled over, gagging. A trashcan appeared in front of her face. She grabbed it blindly, bent over it and retched, until nothing was left and her throat and mouth burned from the bile.

Voices swirled around her, unfamiliar and disembodied. Strong hands reached under her arms. She made a half-hearted attempt at swatting them away, but she was too weak.

Someone lifted her onto her feet. A man. She swayed, the room pitching and spinning around her. Her lungs were on fire, ready to burst.

I can’t bear this. Just let me die. Please, God, take me instead. She would trade places with Bailey in an instant if it meant bringing her daughter back.

“Mrs. Whitehead, please come with me out into the hall,” the man said.

Panic shot through her. She wrenched her arms free and stumbled forward a step, shaking her head. “No. Don’t touch me. I’m not leaving my baby.” She’d fight them. Fight them all with everything she had. They’d have to bodily drag her out of this room.

The man made a frustrated sound behind her. “Mrs. White—”

“No, goddamn it. Just get out!” She lunged for Bailey, afraid they would try and tear her away. She grabbed hold of her daughter’s ice-cold hand, and finally the grief broke through the pain. Great sobs wracked her as she stood there staring down at Bailey’s frozen features.

Baby, look what they did to you.

Voices murmured behind her. She didn’t hear any words. Didn’t care what they were saying. Didn’t care about anything anymore. Had never known she could hurt like this.

Her daughter was still so damn beautiful. So much potential, wasted. “Bailey,” she choked out, shaking all over. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Bailey’s arms. Didn’t want to see the needle tracks she knew she would find there. “Baby, I’m so sorry. So sorry…” This is partly my fault. I didn’t do enough to stop this. That almost killed her.

It had all started with a bad car accident.

Multiple broken bones and a concussion, whiplash. The doctor had prescribed Bailey Percocet and oxycodone. They’d helped at first. And Diane had missed the signs early on. She hadn’t noticed the way Bailey had begun relying on them. Sneaking them when she wasn’t looking. Hiding vials of them in various places.

Then the increased dosage had stopped working. So Bailey had begun taking more and more. Seeing a problem in the making, the doctor had cut her off, with Diane’s full support. And the unthinkable had happened.

Her sweet, loving and well-adjusted daughter had run away from home and turned to street drugs to feed her addiction.

Diane had found her. Put her directly into rehab. Bailey had left the first time. Relapsed after finishing on the second attempt. So Diane had done what any loving mother would do. She’d pulled up stakes and taken her daughter far away to save her.

Moving to Maui last year was supposed to give them both a fresh start, a new life far away from the toxic environment and people Bailey had been hanging with back in West Virginia. Bailey had completed rehab here. She’d been clean for over nine months.

Until her good-for-nothing ex-boyfriend from back home had destroyed her with a single phone call, derailing her recovery and sending her back to the heroin that had ultimately destroyed her.

Diane gazed down at her baby’s horrifyingly still face. The face of her only child and best friend. The only person who had truly understood and loved her on this earth. Now she had nothing and no one. God, she couldn’t take this, couldn’t bear to continue living in this place that was supposed to have been their island paradise, and instead had become their worst nightmare.

“Mrs. Whitehead, please,” the pathologist begged. “Come away now.”

“Just leave me alone.”

Utter devastation suffused Diane’s heart. They’d killed Bailey. The people who had sold her the heroin. The doctor who had prescribed the opioids that had begun this unimaginable tragedy. And all of Diane’s efforts to save her had been in vain.

Rage built beneath her ribs, a raging inferno that melted away the ice. Those people had murdered her daughter.

Gripping Bailey’s chilled hand tighter, she stared down into her daughter’s beloved face, the need for vengeance burning bright as the sun. “I’m going to find the people who did this to you,” she whispered. “And when I do, I swear to God I’ll make them pay.”

****

The familiar smell of stale sweat and hard work hit Kai the moment he opened the gym door. Over the smack of boxing gloves against pads, calls from the trainers rang out as they worked with their clients.

In the closest of the three rings, two guys wearing protective headgear were sparring while the trainers shouted encouragement and instructions. In the far ring, a huge guy worked with someone else. His back was to Kai, the level of his hands at mid-chest height suggesting that whoever was throwing the punches was a lot smaller than him.

Kai headed for the far ring, his attention riveted on the man’s invisible partner. He’d come here for one reason and one reason only: to see Abby.

He’d thought about her all last night, couldn’t get her out of his mind. Would getting involved be a huge mistake because of their friendship? They weren’t neighbors anymore. It’s not like they would see each other unless they made plans to meet up. But if shifting their relationship out of the friend zone would make things too weird for her, then he wouldn’t pursue anything. He didn’t want to lose her.

The trainer turned slightly, revealing a little blonde pixie throwing punches. Abby wore pink boxing gloves, a purple sports bra and a black running skirt. Her platinum bangs were stuck to her forehead, her face glistening with sweat as she threw punch after punch as her trainer called them out, the muscles in her arms and shoulders standing out.

Kai stopped and folded his arms, careful to stay out of her line of sight so he didn’t distract her, enjoying watching her. He’d never realized she’d taken up boxing. When she’d started going to the gym religiously a little over a year ago, he’d assumed she did yoga or whatever.

This was unexpected. And surprisingly hot. It suited her, that slight edge she had about her. An outer toughness he saw right through to the softness beneath. The combination was totally endearing.

Abby moved along with her trainer, paused to wipe a forearm across her sweaty forehead as the man stepped back and gave her instructions. She went into a fighting stance, unleashed two jabs, a cross and a hook before executing three roundhouse kicks and finishing with a spinning back kick that resulted in a loud smack and rocked the big guy back on his heels. Her trainer was a freaking monster, around six-six, so Kai knew exactly what kind of force she’d managed to put into that shot. He was impressed.

Abby stopped, panting, bending over to rest her gloved hands on her knees.

“You got an audience,” the trainer said, looking over at Kai.

Abby twisted her head around, caught sight of him and shot upright, her eyes widening. “What are you doing here?” she blurted, mopping at her face with the hand towel snatched from the top rope.

“Thought I’d meet you halfway.” But mostly he’d been curious about what she did here and wanted to surprise her. The receptionist had let him in for a tour.

She murmured something to her trainer that Kai didn’t catch, then bent and climbed through the lower and upper ropes to hop down from the ring. Her face was bright pink, a shade or two darker now than before as she wiped at it. “I’m so embarrassed.”

Kai frowned. “Why?” He hadn’t meant to embarrass her.

“Look at me, I’m disgusting.”

She looked sexy. In an honest, authentic way that was completely opposite of Shelley and all the other women he’d dated. Maybe that’s why he found it so appealing. Abby was the exact opposite of his usual type.

Not that his usual type had ever worked out for him.

This wasn’t the first time he’d noticed some self-consciousness from her, however. She’d made passing derogatory comments about her body before, and based on previous things she’d mentioned about her ex, Kai laid a good chunk of the blame on that dipshit. The dick had been a controlling asshole, plain and simple, taking shots at Abby’s self-esteem because it made him feel better about himself. Fucking disgusting.

“You look great,” he said. “And I had no idea you were a kickboxer.”

She shrugged. “I’m not. I mean, I don’t compete or anything, it’s just for fitness.”

He ran an appreciative but subtle eye over her body. She was fit, but still had curves a man could hold onto. And with her midriff bare below the sports bra, each breath created a hint of definition on either side of her abs.

Stop staring, dude.

He raised his eyes to her face, took in the bright pink glow in her cheeks. She had gorgeous skin. “Did you bring Goliath?” he asked.

“He’s in the backseat of my car, wrapped up all cozy inside his plastic baggy.”

Kai should probably just grab him and go, but he didn’t want to leave. He wanted to spend more time with Abby, find out if there was any reciprocal attraction on her part. Something told him he had to be careful not to come on too strong or move too fast, or he’d scare her away. “That kind of training sure works up an appetite. Let me make you dinner at my place. As a thank you for looking after my attack fish.”

She shot him a frown. “I can’t go to your place right now, I’m gross.”

“Did you bring a change of clothes with you?”

“Just what I wore to work. I’d need to shower first, and—”

“You can shower at my place.” Just the thought of her standing naked in his shower with the water sluicing over her bare body made his blood run hotter.

She lowered the towel and met his gaze. “You don’t need to make me dinner. You don’t need to pay me back for looking after your fish.”

“Abby. Let me cook for you.” He wanted her to come to his place, for them to spend time alone together. It had been way too long since they’d shared a meal. He missed her. Way more than he’d expected.

Her expression changed, a hint of surprise lighting the depths of those brilliant blue eyes. She exhaled. “Well then can I at least grab some groceries for us on the way over?”

“No.” He reached down and picked up the familiar pink gym bag lying beside the base of the ring, unwilling to take no for an answer. “Come on, I’m starving. You can follow me over.”

Tonight he was going to test the waters, and find out if there was enough room for something more than friendship between them. He’d wasted too much time being unhappy in his last relationship, putting up with all kinds of crazy bullshit instead of noticing what was right there in front of him.

No more. It was time to make a move and show Abby how good they could be together.