I gulped back my next threat and searched his eyes; he wasn’t bluffing.
Derrick lifted a hand. It fluttered through the air like a moth, unsure where to alight now that it had taken flight, falling short of cupping my face. I watched an internal battle play out across his sharp, wolflike features. “Listen to me, Tish, even though I know it goes against the grain for you. I wish I could say that I won’t let them hurt you, but I harbor no illusions.” He clenched his jaw before asking quietly, “Did you tell me the truth the other night? You and I knew each other in another life? Fallon actually…changed reality as we knew it?”
Hope seized at my throat. “Yes. I know I’m asking you to believe something that seems impossible, even crazy.”
“But it’s true, isn’t it?”
“It is. You have to trust me. Please trust me, I have nothing to gain by lying to you. I need to know everything about Fallon. Where is he? Do you think he’ll show up here tonight?”
Derrick closed his eyes, the picture of a man torn.
I grabbed his arm. “Please, oh God, please tell me anything you know. Does he have a weakness? Is anything capable of stopping him? So much depends on this information. You could never begin to guess.”
His eyes opened and he snaked an arm around my waist, bringing me close to his body before I knew it was coming, before I could step aside or away. “You said we were married in another life…”
“Stop it!” I hissed, shoving his chest with both hands.
“Well, well,” a woman murmured, rife with satisfaction, and we turned as one to see Christina Turnbull ambling our direction, one hand in a loose fist around her long necklace, manipulating the chunky, lustrous gem at the bottom in small circles. “Slumming this evening, are we, Derrick?”
Surprise flattened his features before his cheeks hollowed with growing anger but he held himself in check, not responding to her provocation.
Christina wore a fitted gown of palest green, lined with sleek gold threads; I stepped quickly away from Derrick and closer to her. We were no longer surrounded by hundreds of eyes and I felt capable of dismemberment, capable of ripping the shining, highlighted hair straight out of her scalp. I chose my words, however, with great care.
“I’m sure you’re aware that my father is only using you. The same way he would a rental car, or a set of golf clubs.”
Derrick released a barking huff of astonished laughter before gripping the lower half of his face, as though to contain another outburst.
But Christina betrayed no loss of composure, no hint of shame. She skimmed her gaze down the front of my dress, unhurried and disdainful. “You poor, stupid creature.” Her eyes returned to mine with the force of a physical blow. “You can’t stop him. No one can.”
Her confident scorn rattled me and I tried to hide it; I couldn’t let her claim the last word this way. “You’re wrong.”
“Am I?” she purred, releasing her necklace to scrape one long pink fingernail down Derrick’s sleeve. She plucked at his cufflink and he drew away from her touch with calm dignity, gripping his lapels and adjusting his jacket.
“Tish doesn’t know half of what she thinks she does,” Derrick said and I realized, belatedly, that he was doing his best to offer me what help he could. I was sinking lower in this shitpile and, worse yet, I had been the one to jump into it in the first place, playing my ace card too soon. It had been a mistake to tell Derrick what I knew.
Christina’s expression more than confirmed her disbelief in his statement and my bravado leaked rapidly away.
Focus, Tish. It’s not like she’s armed. She can’t prevent you from doing anything.
You can survive this. You can tell everyone the truth about Fallon. It’s not too late.
Oh, dear God…
“She’s leaving Chicago tomorrow, aren’t you, Tish?” Derrick spoke brusquely. “For good. Resigning from the firm to work back home was an apt decision for you. If you’ll excuse us, Christina. We’ll see you at dinner.” He appropriated my arm and towed me away, back toward the ballroom; as soon as we rounded the corner and were out of Christina’s sight, Derrick bent to my ear. “Get out of here right now. Leave the city tonight. I’ll make an excuse to Jackson.”
Fear gouged my heart – for a second I couldn’t swallow, let alone reply.
What about Robbie?
He’s not safe here, either.
Derrick shifted me so we were face to face and I witnessed the conflict in his eyes, the faltering; a dam crumbling beneath the intense weight of something far beyond his control as he said, “Fallon arrived in Chicago this morning. I don’t know if he’s still in town, or even this century, but you can’t chance it. Christina tells him everything. Now go.”
“Thank you,” I gasped. And then I ran for the exit.
Rain gushed from a wet black sky, splattering over awnings and creating miniature hurricanes along the traffic-choked street. I staggered in my heels, cursing, and kicked them aside, lifting my hem knee-high. No longer impeded by footwear I dashed away from the event center, not slowing until I reached a corner three blocks away. Heart thrusting, drenched and barefoot, I was too scared to look over my shoulder. I perched on the curb and scanned the array of vehicles for a taxi.
No one is chasing you. But get the hell out of here!
I would call Robbie and Dad as soon as I could.
“Hey!” I shrieked as a speeding car roared past, sending a cascade of dirty rainwater over my thighs. “Asshole!”
The streetlight rotated through its cycle four times before anyone stopped. I could not draw a full breath until the taxi stopped at Dad’s building. Simultaneously I realized I had no money; my purse was back at table eleven. The driver was unamused,
