Pulse pounding. Sweat-slicked skin. Air sucked in and forced out in clipped breaths.

I amped up the treadmill and pushed my feet to move faster. Mile six clicked off. I hardly blinked, focused on the mirror in front of me. On the man fighting his best to do the right thing and losing.

I punished my body with a rapid pace, yet it didn’t atone for my sins. Didn’t distract me from the shitshow that I’d let my life become.

My phone vibrated in it’s slot on the treadmill, and I automatically looked at it. Damn it. I had to answer.

I powered down the machine and slowed my pace along with it.

“Yes.” The word came out with all the vehemence of a curse.

“The aide. He’ll talk, but it has to be now. I’ve got him at Smith and Wollensky, but I don’t know how long I can keep him here.”

Barron Rutledge was the most connected lobbyist in Washington, and he was in my back pocket. Donato had introduced us fifteen years ago, and we had worked together often—rather nicely if I was honest. Barron got me in places I could never access on my own, and somehow he kept his nose clean. Discreet, swift, and intelligent—three traits I could work with.

“I’m on my way.” I hung up and wiped my face with a towel.

A US Senate seat battle was heating up, and the incumbent had enlisted my services to “dig up shit” on his opponent. He was behind in the polls, the election mere weeks away, and it seemed I’d pulled a rabbit out of a hat again in the nick of time.

I downed a bottle of water and tossed the towel in the hamper, my adrenaline pumping from the aggressive run. Annoyed I’d had to quit when I’d just gotten started, I flipped off the lights to my home gym and headed for the shower.

I’d barely shrugged on my jacket when my cell rang again. “Hello, Giselle,” I said as diplomatically as I could.

“Scott wants to know how many more times I have to go out with you.”

Fucking kids. It had only been one outing, yesterday. Did they have nothing else to do but worry me with this shit? “Tell Scott he can thank me personally because you’re speaking to him again.”

Damn if she didn’t repeat what I’d said to her estranged boyfriend, who was apparently at her side. There was a rustling on the other end of the line.

“Mr. Elliott?”

“Scott, I presume,” I said, all business, which inevitably made me sound annoyed. I was.

“Giselle told me the advice you gave her. Thank you. God, you have no idea what you’ve done for me,” he said, his voice filled with gratitude.

Actually, I knew exactly what I’d done if Giselle was the right girl for him. “I shouldn’t need to borrow her too many more times,” I assured him.

“It’s okay, but are you sure you want to keep doing this? Giselle told me about what happened last night, and—”

“I’ll be in touch.” I cut him off and hung up before the boy could second-guess what I was doing with my life. I’d already endured that from Giselle after Vivian’s exit. The rest of the evening had been spent trying to explain to her why I was doing what I was doing without actually getting into specifics. It was exhausting.

I grabbed my keys as I passed through the foyer on my way out. There was no other option but to tolerate Giselle and her boyfriend. At the moment, she was the best weapon in my arsenal when it came to Vivian.

A couple of hours later, I had a happy client, who by morning would be the only candidate left in the race. I didn’t even give a fuck. All I cared about, as I sat behind the desk in my study, was seeing where Vivian was at that moment. The blue dot appeared on my screen. She was at that shithole apartment.

I didn’t like it, not one fucking bit. But if I stormed in and demanded she leave, the jig was up. I tossed the phone on the desk. Opening the middle drawer, I was assaulted by another photograph of Vivian and me when I lifted a legal pad. Already today I’d found her lip gloss in my pants pocket. I couldn’t make myself remove it.

I started a scavenger hunt around my office, like a glutton for punishment. “Where else did you hide something for me, Princess?” I wondered aloud, opening and closing the drawers to my desk.

Triumph and pain shot through me at once when I discovered a refrigerator magnet in the shape of Spain. At one time, magnets had covered our fridge. We’d had to have it replaced, and magnets wouldn’t stick to the new one. I didn’t know what had happened to these things, but apparently Vivian did.

I traced the shape of the country, opening the gate to memory lane, then set the trinket on my desk and pressed on. I found another photo stashed between a couple of books on a shelf. This was Vivian’s way of yelling at me. Her way of telling me she wasn’t going anywhere.

I smiled. She knew this would get through to me louder than words, and she was right. Vivian wouldn’t let me forget her, no matter how I tried. What she didn’t know was I hadn’t put much effort into it. She was my strength when things were tough. And they would get worse. Much, much worse.

I opened the closet where I kept old files and flipped on the light. I scanned the stacks of boxes without any luck, but I saw an old tape player out of place on the floor, as if someone had recently used it. Underneath was a file folder that most definitely didn’t belong there.

I stooped to pick it up, nearly dropping it when I saw what was inside. I’d shoved this in a box of old cassettes the day Donato had given it to me, just to get it out of my sight. It had remained there until a few days ago when I’d forced myself to look at it. A cursory glance had been all I could stomach. I was sure I’d returned the folder to the box. Why it was here now sent a shiver of unease down my spine. The logical answer was Vivian, though she rarely rummaged through this closet. The way things had been going, though, I couldn’t rule anything out.

My father had been dead nearly twenty-five years. All this time later, and it seemed I couldn’t escape it. But I needed to. Desperately. I was sick and tired of the man, and he refused to let me be. I didn’t need his goddamned medical reports any longer.

“Fuck you.”

Clutching the file, I crossed the room to the shredder, my shoulders relaxing as the reminder of him disappeared. Gone. Just like he was.