for all it was worth. She hadn’t imagined the way he’d responded to her in the truck. She couldn’t see the point in him playing her and then pulling away. If he’d felt that brief— extremely brief—moment of mutual awareness and planned to do something about it, he wouldn’t have left her in the bathroom all night.
She’d done worse things than make promises she couldn’t keep. Getting two people killed weighed far more on her heart than leading Lucas on ever would.
She couldn’t guarantee another physical confrontation would go her way any more than the last one had. He was strong, fast and seemed to know a hell of a lot more about her than she knew about him. He had every advantage and if she didn’t do something to level the playing field, she was going to regret hiding out in New Brunswick more than she already did.
The slim tube of tinted lip gloss in her bag caught her attention, and she pulled it out, rolling it back and forth in her palm. It had belonged to Cara. She’d been carrying it around for weeks as though she could use it to hold onto her friend a little longer.
She’d found Cara’s purse when she’d been fleeing the warehouse but the contents—lip gloss, Blackwater’s business card, a hotel keycard—hadn’t offered any clues about what information Cara had claimed to have for her.
Twisting off the cap, Max ran the gloss over her lips. She stared as her reflection, trying to gear herself up for something she might not even be able to pull off. Three months of running had carved away pieces she wasn’t sure would fit back together again. Some never would, the same way Cara would never take another breath, never smile, never laugh.
Don’t.
She squeezed her eyes so tight they hurt, praying she wasn’t about lose it. Giving in to the horrific memories stirred up after yesterday was the quickest way to ensure she ended up dead.
As much as part of her wanted to stop running, just wanted it to all be over, she desperately wanted to find a way back to her life. The one Blackwater had ripped away from her, first when he screwed with her family, then her career and then Cara.
More than anyone she wanted to call her partner, Glen. For three years he’d been the one backing her up, reinforcing her instincts or talking her out of one of her more radical ideas. But even if he’d heard or uncovered something that could help her, she couldn’t risk calling him, no matter how much she could use his advice right now.
Blackwater was responsible for that too. Glen hadn’t blamed her for their suspension or losing his fiancée, but she might as well have killed Jillian herself. If she hadn’t pushed Glen so hard to help her find something to bring Blackwater down for good Jillian might still be alive. Glen was better off if she didn’t involve him, leaving her on her own.
Max just wasn’t sure if that was enough anymore.
“You’re not looking too hot.”
Her head snapped up and she caught Lucas’s reflection in the mirror. She’d been so preoccupied with talking herself down from some kind of meltdown that she hadn’t heard him come in.
She tucked the lip gloss into her pocket. “I could say the same about you. How’s your shoulder this morning?” The question had way too much bite if she wanted to talk her way out of this mess, and she let out a breath. “Sorry. For all I know you got hit by a bullet meant for me.” She picked up her bag and stepped back from the sink, taking a seat on the edge of the tub when he made no move to let her pass.
“You’re not actually going to cooperate this morning, are you?”
Massaging the back of her neck, she offered a weak smile. “I’m not interested in starting the morning the same way we ended last night.”
He rinsed his face and ran a damp hand through his hair. He wore a different shirt this morning, dark blue and long sleeved, along with a blue and white ball cap. Had he borrowed them from the desk clerk or perhaps stolen
She’d done worse things than make promises she couldn’t keep. Getting two people killed weighed far more on her heart than leading Lucas on ever would.
She couldn’t guarantee another physical confrontation would go her way any more than the last one had. He was strong, fast and seemed to know a hell of a lot more about her than she knew about him. He had every advantage and if she didn’t do something to level the playing field, she was going to regret hiding out in New Brunswick more than she already did.
The slim tube of tinted lip gloss in her bag caught her attention, and she pulled it out, rolling it back and forth in her palm. It had belonged to Cara. She’d been carrying it around for weeks as though she could use it to hold onto her friend a little longer.
She’d found Cara’s purse when she’d been fleeing the warehouse but the contents—lip gloss, Blackwater’s business card, a hotel keycard—hadn’t offered any clues about what information Cara had claimed to have for her.
Twisting off the cap, Max ran the gloss over her lips. She stared as her reflection, trying to gear herself up for something she might not even be able to pull off. Three months of running had carved away pieces she wasn’t sure would fit back together again. Some never would, the same way Cara would never take another breath, never smile, never laugh.
Don’t.
She squeezed her eyes so tight they hurt, praying she wasn’t about lose it. Giving in to the horrific memories stirred up after yesterday was the quickest way to ensure she ended up dead.
As much as part of her wanted to stop running, just wanted it to all be over, she desperately wanted to find a way back to her life. The one Blackwater had ripped away from her, first when he screwed with her family, then her career and then Cara.
More than anyone she wanted to call her partner, Glen. For three years he’d been the one backing her up, reinforcing her instincts or talking her out of one of her more radical ideas. But even if he’d heard or uncovered something that could help her, she couldn’t risk calling him, no matter how much she could use his advice right now.
Blackwater was responsible for that too. Glen hadn’t blamed her for their suspension or losing his fiancée, but she might as well have killed Jillian herself. If she hadn’t pushed Glen so hard to help her find something to bring Blackwater down for good Jillian might still be alive. Glen was better off if she didn’t involve him, leaving her on her own.
Max just wasn’t sure if that was enough anymore.
“You’re not looking too hot.”
Her head snapped up and she caught Lucas’s reflection in the mirror. She’d been so preoccupied with talking herself down from some kind of meltdown that she hadn’t heard him come in.
She tucked the lip gloss into her pocket. “I could say the same about you. How’s your shoulder this morning?” The question had way too much bite if she wanted to talk her way out of this mess, and she let out a breath. “Sorry. For all I know you got hit by a bullet meant for me.” She picked up her bag and stepped back from the sink, taking a seat on the edge of the tub when he made no move to let her pass.
“You’re not actually going to cooperate this morning, are you?”
Massaging the back of her neck, she offered a weak smile. “I’m not interested in starting the morning the same way we ended last night.”
He rinsed his face and ran a damp hand through his hair. He wore a different shirt this morning, dark blue and long sleeved, along with a blue and white ball cap. Had he borrowed them from the desk clerk or perhaps stolen
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