Tangled Threads

  “Gin?” Donovan asked in an uncertain voice.

  I stared at him with cold, dispassionate eyes. “First of all, nobody, and I mean no damn body, touches me without my permission, much less tries to stick his tongue down my throat without my consent and express invitation. And second, what you’re feeling right now? The sharp ache in your chest? The trouble breathing? That’s exactly what I felt when you turned your back on me outside Dawson’s mine. Do you remember that, Donovan? Because I certainly do. I didn’t expect you to turn cartwheels that day, but it would have been nice if you hadn’t been so fucking disappointed that I was still alive and around to tempt you with my wicked, wicked wiles. And then, to add insult to injury, you came to the Pork Pit later on and spelled out exactly how much you didn’t want to be with me. How do you think all that made me feel? I’ll give you a clue—not good. Not good at all. Now, instead of offering me some sort of apology for the shitty way that you treated me, you expect me to be just as happy to play grab-ass as you are, as though nothing bad ever happened between us.”

  Donovan rubbed his chest and slowly straightened up. “You’re angry, and you have every right to be. I was a fool to act the way I did toward you. I’m sorry for that. Sorrier than you’ll ever know. I thought about calling you a dozen times after I left Ashland, but I just couldn’t. I knew that if I heard your voice again, I’d be tempted to go back to the city—to go back to you. Now I’m sorry that I didn’t call you, that I didn’t go back.”

  I shook my head. “That’s where you’re right—and wrong too. Yes, you were a fool to walk away from me, but your doing that was the best thing that ever happened to me because it let me find Owen.”

  Donovan frowned. “Grayson? But you just took up with him because I left town. We all know that.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “And what? You think that I’m just going to forget about Owen and happily fall back into your arms now because you’ve finally gotten off your high horse and decided that you want me? Or at least want to fuck me again? Are you really that arrogant, Detective?”

  He winced, but he stubbornly lifted his chin. He wasn’t going to take back his words because we both knew they were partially true.

  “Tell me that I’m wrong,” he challenged. “Tell me that you didn’t start sleeping with Grayson just because he was there.”

  “Well, I do have slightly higher standards than that. But yeah, maybe that’s how it started out with me and Owen,” I said. “Maybe I was lonely and hurting because of you and how shitty you made me feel about myself and what I do. But I love Owen, and he loves me. What we have is real—the forever kind of real. More than that, Owen accepts me for who and what I am. He knows that I’m an assassin, but he’s not hung up on it like you always were. Like you still are.”

  Donovan stared at me, guilt flickering in his eyes, along with just a touch of shame. Yeah, he still wanted me, but he still wanted to keep his conscience clean too, and that just wasn’t going to happen. Even if I wanted to, there was no way I could ever stop being the Spider—not now, not after killing Mab. The Ashland underworld was in major turmoil, and probably would be for some time to come, which meant the bad guys were going to keep coming after me. Donovan would just never understand this need that I had to take them on and to try to help all the innocent people I could. He would just never understand that sometimes my way was the only way to help folks—folks like Callie who didn’t have the money or darkness inside them to go toe-to-toe with the people threatening them.

  It wasn’t wrong of Donovan to believe in truth and justice and to want to follow the law and do things by the book. But it wasn’t right of him to always condemn me out of hand either, or more importantly, want me to change to suit his ideals so he could feel better about being with me.

  Still, for the first time, I didn’t feel any anger or rancor toward the detective. Instead, I just felt sorry for him. Donovan was a good guy who wanted the thrill of being with a bad girl. It was up to him to come to terms with that. I wasn’t apologizing for myself anymore, especially not to him.

  “You have a good thing going with Callie,” I said in a soft voice. “She really does love you, Donovan. You should try to make it work with her, but if you can’t love her wholeheartedly like she loves you, like she deserves to be loved, like everyone deserves to be loved, then you need to let her go. That’s what good guys do, Donovan. They think of people other than themselves and what they want. So you need to man up and walk the walk that you always spout to others.”

  He didn’t say anything, but I could see the conflict, guilt, and shame in his face. He cared about Callie, maybe he even loved her, but here he was, kissing another woman inside his fiancée’s restaurant with her standing just outside the door. That wasn’t exactly the kind of good, upstanding, honorable guy Donovan wanted to be, but that was his problem now—not mine.

  Not anymore.

  “Whatever you decide about Callie, I hope that you have a good life, Donovan,” I said. “Because I certainly intend to—with Owen.”

  I stared at the detective a second longer, looking at the planes of his face, remembering everything he’d made me feel, remembering everything he’d once meant to me. Then I put those feelings and memories away forever—finally severing the last thread that had tied me to him for so long.

  I turned my back to Donovan the way he’d once done to me and walked away. I didn’t look back. I didn’t have to. There was nothing for me here.

  My future was waiting outside—with Owen.

  28

  I opened the screen door, stepped outside, and rejoined the others. Callie and Bria were standing in the lot, still talking about bridesmaids’ dresses and when Bria might be able to come back to Blue Marsh for a fitting, while Finn and Owen were sitting on top of one of the electric blue picnic tables, sunglasses on and faces turned up to enjoy the sun. I walked over to the two of them.

  “So how did it go?” Finn asked, looking at me over the tops of his sunglasses. “Did Donovan tearfully proclaim his undying love?”

  “Something like that,” I said in a mild voice, making sure that Callie couldn’t hear us.

  “And then what?” Finn asked, his green eyes gleaming. “I want all the juicy details.”

  “You’re such a gossip.” I spoke to Finn, but I looked at Owen, who hadn’t said a word. “And then I punched the smug bastard in the stomach and told him that I loved Owen. That’s what.”

  Finn grinned. “That’s my girl. Always resorting to violence.”

  I shrugged. “You stick with what works.”

  Owen got off the table and gently brushed a piece of hair back off my face. “I’ll second that.”

  He leaned down and kissed me, and I felt everything with him that I’d been missing with Donovan—everything I’d always been missing with the detective. Understanding. Concern. Caring. Love.

  A minute later, Donovan stepped out of the Sea Breeze, his face carefully calm and blank, the earlier turmoil in his eyes gone, although perhaps not forgotten. He looked at me standing next to Owen, and his face tightened. For a moment, I thought I saw a flash of regret in his eyes. Whatever it was, the detective quickly pushed the emotion aside. He went over to Callie’s side and slid his arm around her waist. He didn’t look at me again. Good. I didn’t want him to.

  Callie and Bria finally wrapped up their conversation, and Owen, Finn, and I walked over to where they were standing. Once again, my sister’s eyes drifted from me over to Donovan and back again.

  “Is everything okay?” Bria asked in a cautious voice. “Are you ready to go now, Gin?”

  That wasn’t what she was really asking me, and we both knew it. But I had been ready to let go of Donovan for a long time, even if I hadn’t realized it.

  “Yeah, I’m ready.”

  She looked at me and nodded. “Good. I’m glad to hear it.”

  We all fell silent for a moment before Finn let out a long, tired, I’m-so-put-upon sigh.

  “Well, I supp
ose that it’s time for me to hand these over again,” he muttered.

  Finn pulled his car keys out of his pocket and dangled them in front of Bria. “Do me a favor. Try not to get my car smashed up on the way back home, okay?”

  That was another reason that we’d decided to stay in Blue Marsh a few more days—so Finn could get his car fixed. The mechanic had finally returned the Aston Martin this morning in what Finn had reluctantly deemed appropriate shape, meaning that everything had been replaced and that he couldn’t find any real fault with the car. He had perked up considerably though when he handed me the bill for the repairs. Finn always enjoyed passing the buck like that.

  So we were leaving the same way that we’d come down to Blue Marsh. Bria and I were driving the convertible back to Ashland, while Owen was riding with Finn in the Escalade.

  “Oh, shut up and give me those already.” Bria snatched the keys out of Finn’s hand.

  Instead of being intimidated by her slightly cross tone, he took the opportunity to draw her close, bend her over, and plant a long, sound kiss on her lips just like he had in the restaurant a few days ago. Finn always liked to be grandiose, no matter how large or small his audience was. After a moment, Bria let out a sigh, wrapped her arms around his neck, and melted into his embrace.

  I just smiled.

  After Finn and Bria came up for air, the guys said their final good-byes to Callie. Then Finn and Owen got into the Escalade and pulled out of the parking lot. A minute later, they were gone, headed back to Ashland, although I’d see them again before we reached the city. We’d already made plans to hook up at a rest stop between here and there in an hour or so and follow each other back home.

  That left me standing outside the restaurant with Callie, Bria, and Donovan. The detective shook hands with Bria, then turned and finally looked at me. His eyes were dark and a little sad too, but I also saw relief mixed in with the other emotions. Donovan might have wanted me, but deep down, he hadn’t wanted to wreck his new life with Callie either. Sooner or later, he’d realize that, if he hadn’t already.

  “Good-bye, Gin,” Donovan said in a low, rough voice.

  He hesitated, then stuck out his hand, like we were just two casual acquaintances going our separate ways instead of a couple who’d once had an intense affair. Maybe acquaintances were all that we were now. Hell, maybe that’s all we had ever really been to start with.

  I wrapped my fingers around his and gave his hand a firm, final shake. “Good-bye, Donovan.”

  The detective’s fingers tightened around mine for the briefest instant before I dropped his hand and stepped back. And that was that—Donovan Caine was out of my life once again. But this time, it was by my choosing and on my terms.

  Donovan stared at me another second before going back inside the restaurant. I didn’t watch him go. I didn’t need to. Not anymore.

  Bria gave Callie a final hug, and the two women made all sorts of promises about visiting each other and staying in touch, trying to make the moment last just a little while longer. Then Callie turned to me. I was surprised when the other woman held out her arms and hugged me as well.

  “Thank you for everything, Gin,” she whispered in my ear. “Especially for Donovan and letting him go.”

  My eyebrows shot up in surprise. Perhaps Callie hadn’t been as oblivious about the detective as I’d thought. I wondered what she would say to him after I left and where they would go from here. But that was up to them now, and I was out of things—for good.

  “You’re welcome,” I whispered back.

  We broke apart. Callie waved at us a final time and then went back inside the restaurant, getting ready to open up for the supper crowd. The familiarity made me smile and miss the Pork Pit. Vacations were all well and good, but I was looking forward to going home and getting back into the swing of things.

  And then there were two of us—Bria and I standing outside in the sandy lot where this whole thing had started last week. My sister’s eyes traced over the neon blue clamshell sign, the one that spelled out the words The Sea Breeze, and a wistful look filled her pretty face. I walked over to stand beside her.

  “I’d understand if you wanted to stay here in Blue Marsh,” I said in a soft voice. “I know that it was your home once and that it could be again. That you have a lot of good memories here and that part of you wants to go back into the restaurant and tell Callie you’re leaving Ashland and moving back down here for good.”

  Bria tried to smile, but it didn’t come off so well. “Is it that obvious?”

  I nodded and drew in a breath, bracing myself. Now came the hard part. Because there was something else I wanted to say to my sister before we left Blue Marsh, something I needed to say, something I’d been thinking about ever since I’d had those dreams about Fletcher leaving me on the mountain so long ago. The old man had taught me a lesson that day, one that I’d half forgotten, but that was still important—maybe the most important thing he’d ever made me realize about myself and what I did.

  “You know, ever since I killed Mab, I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop with you,” I said.

  Bria frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that Mab’s dead. She can’t hurt us anymore, she can’t hurt you anymore. The threat she posed to you is over. Done. Finished. You’re free to live your life however you want to—wherever you want to. Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it, that you haven’t thought about leaving Ashland for good.”

  Her face tightened with guilt, but I wasn’t finished yet. I had to get the words out. I had to know where we stood. I had to let her know that she was free from everything now—including me.

  “I know how much Mab hurt you, how horribly she tortured you. We both know that none of that probably would have happened if I hadn’t been the Spider and so determined to kill Mab for murdering our family. Like it or not, I’m the reason that you got hurt.”

  Memories of that horrible night flashed in Bria’s eyes, along with the emotions that went with them—rage, fear, helplessness, pain. So much pain that it took my breath away, but I kept talking.

  “So every day since then, I’ve been waiting for you to tell me you’ve had enough. That you’re tired of having an assassin for a sister and that you want to go back to your old Gin- and Spider-free life. It wasn’t so bad in Ashland because of all the distractions, all the folks gunning for me. But then we came down here, and everything changed. I saw how happy being back here made you, and it only made me that much more insecure because of my fear that you’ll someday leave me behind and never look back. That was one of the reasons I was such a bitch to Callie that first night in the restaurant. I was jealous of her and her relationship with you. I was jealous of how much you loved her, when you don’t seem to feel the same way about me.”

  Bria opened her mouth to protest that it wasn’t true, that she was just fine with my being an assassin, that she wasn’t thinking about getting while the getting was good, but I held up a hand, cutting her off.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “I understand how hard this has been for you. It’s why Donovan and I didn’t work out. Because he couldn’t accept who and what I was and that I was okay with being an assassin, that I’m okay with being the bad guy.”

  I drew in a final breath. “But I’ve been tiptoeing around you because you’re my sister, and I just can’t do that anymore. Like it or not, I’m the Spider. I’m always going to want to kill first and ask questions later. It’s just who I am, who Fletcher raised and trained me to be, just like your foster dad raised you to be a cop and follow the law. I’m your sister, and I love you, Bria. More than you’ll ever know. But if you want to stay here in Blue Marsh and pretend you never discovered that I was still alive, I’ll understand. It’s your choice, just like being an assassin is mine. But I’m not going to apologize for what I do anymore, and I’m not going to be afraid of losing your love or approval.”

  The words hung in the air between us for a moment, before th
e wind whipped them away and carried them out across the ocean. But I’d said the words, finally voiced my worrisome thoughts, and there was no taking them back. In a way, it was like a burden had been lifted off my shoulders, just as it had been that day when Fletcher had left me in the woods. Sure, the old man had dumped me out there, but he’d also shown me that I could keep going—no matter who abandoned me or the hardships I had to face as a result of that.

  Maybe I wouldn’t like what Bria would say. Maybe she’d want nothing more to do with me. Maybe she’d break my heart with harsh words. But now, at least I’d know one way or the other how she felt, and I could get on with my life accordingly.

  And most of all, I could quit being afraid.

  Bria stared at me for a long, long time, feelings flashing in her eyes one after another like stones skipping across the surface of a still lake. Guilt. Regret. Love. Wariness. Shame. The last emotion surprised me. What would Bria have to feel ashamed about? I was the one who killed people, not her.

  “I do love you,” she finally whispered. “But you’re right. It’s been hard for me these past few months in Ashland, knowing what you are, watching what you do. It goes against everything that I know about being a cop and upholding the law. I know it wasn’t your fault that Mab tortured me, but part of me was still angry at you because it happened. So angry. Like you should have killed her before you did, even though you almost died trying to do that at her mansion before I was ever kidnapped.”

  Her words hurt, like a dozen knives twisting into my heart all at once, but they weren’t unexpected. In fact, they were far kinder than what I’d thought they’d be, but I still braced myself for what was to come. I might be willing to let Bria go, but it was going to hurt all the same—maybe even more than losing her in the first place had.

  This time, Bria sucked in a breath. “I’ll admit that with Mab gone I’ve thought about moving back down here and picking up my old life again. But I’m not the same person I was when I left Blue Marsh. Not after everything that’s happened to me and to you too. I might not like what you do, but you’re not going to lose me, Gin.”