Page 54

FIFTY-THREE

willa

“I appreciate you meeting with us,” I tell Anderson Sinclair. He’s sitting behind his large and shiny mahogany desk, fingers steepled under his chin. He’s intimidating, and I wish Declan was in here with me already. Ben sitting in the chair next to me is the only reason I’m relatively calm right now.

“What is it you need from me, Mrs. Monroe?”

“I think we should wait for Declan,” Ben says, nervously scratching his beard. He meets my eyes, and I frown. There’s something different about him. He darts his gaze away before I can think too much about it.

Turning back to Sinclair, I smile at him. “Declan would want to be here, but the truth is, this is more of my problem than his.”

He sighs and glares at me. “Let me guess. You’re cheating on Declan with him,” he says, gesturing to Ben with his chin. “Or is Declan the one cheating? How long do I have until it hits the press?”

My jaw drops at his assumptions, but quickly closes when Ben bursts out in laughter.

“You clearly have no idea how obsessed those two are with each other if that’s what you think this is about.”

Sinclair frowns, but waves his hand in front of him, a silent order to explain ourselves. I nod and quickly glance at Ben before taking a deep breath and blurting out everything that’s been going on and why we need his help with Eva. More specifically, his help to protect Ezra if we call him back. To his credit, Sinclair doesn’t even blink. He leans back in his dark leather chair, his eyes locked with mine like he’s looking for the punch line or maybe the lie. He’ll find neither.

“And you think Ezra has something I want?” Sinclair says, breaking the silence.

“He does,” Ben says confidently. I smile at him. He doesn’t know that. Hell, I don’t even know that for certain. It’s the theory we’re working with that makes the most sense. But Ben promised to help Declan, and he’s sitting here next to me doing just that.

“At the minimum, he has something Eva wants so desperately that she’s willing to go to any lengths to get it,” I amend, not wanting to make false promises to someone as dangerous as the man sitting in front of me.

“Or hide it from people that would be furious about it,” Ben adds.

“That seems likely, from what I’ve heard about her,” Sinclair says, his focus still on me. “And you’re confident you can get Ezra?”

“Yes.” It’s the one thing I am confident about right now. I know the moment we call that number, he’ll come. We may be coming up on eight years since any of us last saw Ezra, but I have a hard time believing he’s changed enough to ignore a call for help.

Sinclair opens his mouth to say something but freezes when manic laughter and a large thump comes outside of his office. He flies out of his seat. I’m right behind him with Ben on my heels.

I can feel all the color drain from my face the moment I see what’s in front of me. My legs are moving, a scream wrenching itself from my throat before I have time to stop it.

“Declan!” I shout, my hands automatically moving to the wound at his throat and putting pressure on it. His hot blood seeps between my fingers, and I push harder. “Help me!” I scream. Ben is suddenly next to me, checking the pulse in Declan’s wrist.

“Sinclair is calling for help. His pulse is slow, but it’s there.”

Time moves slowly as I watch the life drain from my husband, taking mine with it. The medics sprint down the long hallway. One tries to take over for me, but I’m too afraid to move my hands.

“I need you to let me take over. I can’t save him if you’re in the way.” The medic is speaking to me as softly as she can, but the sense of urgency in her tone has my hands lifting.

“My helicopter is on the roof. I’ve already alerted the hospital you’ll be landing with him,” Sinclair tells the medics.

I look up at him, but I can’t see his expression through my tears.

Ben grabs my elbow and hauls me to my feet as the medics get Declan on a stretcher. The one that took over for me straddles his chest, keeping her hands on his neck.

“I need to go with him,” I say, trying to get Ben’s grip off of me. “Ben!” I plead.

“It’s a personal helicopter. They’re going to barely fit in there as it is,” Sinclair says.

“Come on, Willa. I’ll drive you,” Ben says, pulling me along with him. I slide and almost fall, the strong grip on my elbow the only thing keeping me upright. Looking down, I see it’s Declan’s blood that I slipped in. I rip my arm free of Ben and run to the garbage bin in the hallway, losing my dinner instantly.

“I need to stay to speak to the police, but you two should get to the hospital,” Sinclair says, seeming unaffected by everything. He walks into my line of sight and gives me a kind smile that I’m almost certain I’m hallucinating. “Declan needs you.”

I nod, letting Ben lead me away on my shaky legs. “Declan is going to punch me for this,” Ben mutters. I frown up at him, but then my legs come out from under me, and I shriek. Ben has me cradled in his arms, and he’s sprinting for the stairs.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him to put me down, but I hold it. He’s sprinting down the stairs two at a time, trying everything he can to get me to my husband.

“What if. . .” I start, not able to finish the thought. What if he’s already gone by the time we get there?

“No,” Ben says, his voice stern even with how out of breath he seems. “He won’t leave you.” I wrap my arms tighter around his neck, letting the tears soak his shirt.