Not just people.

My enemies. My foes.

Patrick.

His crew.

Now Tommy.

And I had put them there.

I should be happy.

I wasn’t.

I also should be worried about what would happen to me.

I wasn’t.

The only thing on my mind right now was, what am I going to do to make sure Elle stays safe?

Because I was screwed.

Although a lot of the Blue Hill Gang members had been arrested, not all of them had been locked up. There were too many of them. And besides, some would be out on bail within hours. I also knew Tommy was into something else, something drug related, and those connections would go beyond jail. I was certain he would reach out to them as soon as he could.

The fact was—I couldn’t keep Elle safe.

Not always.

Something could happen to her if I stayed with her.

Maybe something bad.

Chills ran through me.

Something like what Tommy had done before to Kayla, a girl I was casually seeing, the girl I made the mistake of bringing back to Boston one weekend, or like what he had done recently to Elle’s employee and friend, Peyton. Although I had no proof, I was certain Tommy had caught a glimpse of Peyton and me together on the street and then later attacked her, sending her to the hospital with an E carved in her stomach.

An E I had wrongly believed was meant to remind me of his dead sister, Emily. Emily, the girl I’d made the mistake of fucking when I was fifteen, which subsequently led to a teen pregnancy and ultimately to her suicide. That event had not only changed my life, but my father’s and grandfather’s lives as well.

Back then, Emily’s father had been the head of the Dorchester Heights Gang, a smaller Irish Mob, and he wanted to be top dog, but my paternal grandfather had held that position in the Blue Hill Gang. The situation I inadvertently created gave Emily’s father the ammunition he needed to make his move and ascend his rank.

Patrick Flannigan was ruthless.

The rule on the street was “A life for a life,” and he demanded obedience.

Regardless of the circumstances, as a consequence of my actions, my father had been providing his legal services to Patrick for the past twelve years. In exchange for my life my father traded his life in service for Emily’s death.

A life for a life.

But that wasn’t enough for Patrick. He wanted more. The details behind my grandfather’s dissent from power were sketchy, but eventually my grandfather handed over his leadership, his gang, to Patrick.

This went against code. This wasn’t a life for a life. But the situation was grave and my family did what they needed to do to protect me.

Patrick didn’t follow the rules, and neither did his son.

Where did this leave me now?

Right where I knew it always would. Having to do what I didn’t want to do—listen to Tommy’s threat and disassociate myself from Elle. It was absolutely the best solution.

“Hey, man, you okay?”

I looked at Declan. Tried to focus. But couldn’t. That weird rush of fear I’d felt earlier was suddenly paralyzing.

“We need to go. Agent Blanchet said you had five minutes to get out of here.”

I looked around. He was the only one left in the room. “Yeah, yeah, right. Do you think I could crash at your place for a few hours?”

Confusion furrowed his brow. “Yeah, sure, but what about Elle? She’s at your old man’s.”

“Miles will bring her home when she wakes up.”

“What are you doing, man? What are you thinking?”

With my heart feeling like it was in sharp, jagged pieces, I forced myself to say it out loud. “I can’t be with her. Not right now.”

His confusion mounted. “What are you talking about?”

“I can’t let her think she’s safe with me because the truth is . . . she’s anything but.”

The disappointed look on his face couldn’t be hidden. “So what? You’re going to walk away from her just like that?”

I nodded. Yeah, yeah I was.

For now.

DAY 10

ELLE

I was on a train.

It was moving fast.

Out the window the earth met the sky, and the two blended together in one giant blur. In the haze, the phrase Catch him if you can seemed to etch itself on the glass beside me. The words were so few that you’d think the thunderous sound of the wheels hitting the track would have drowned them out by now. But no, instead they just kept repeating themselves over and over in my mind.

A phrase I couldn’t seem to escape.

Catch him if you can.

Catch him if you can.

Catch him if you can.

No matter how hard I tried to block out the words, I couldn’t.

It sounded more like the title of a movie than a mantra that had me going on some crazy quest. I could practically visualize the theatrical release poster in my mind. It was as if I had seen it before.

A finely built man with long legs, running, wearing a suit—no, not a suit, a pair of track pants, Converse sneakers, sunglasses, and maybe a knit hat—being chased by a woman. The woman had ginger-colored hair. She was tall but not nearly as tall as him. The image was blurry. It didn’t matter, though, because I could still tell who it was—it was me, and I was running after Logan.

Except I wasn’t going to do that.

I’d vehemently told myself so.

Told myself I had to let him go.

And yet, somehow I found myself on the train headed to New York City with the events of the past two days replaying in my mind until I felt like they were actually taking place all over again.

The sun shining in his bedroom window wasn’t what had woken me. I’d been awake for hours. Waiting. Wondering. Pacing.

Worried, I stared at the faint yellow beams of light.

Where was he?

It took me a minute to gather the courage to get out of bed. It was dawn and he wasn’t back. That wasn’t a good sign.

I’d spent hours talking to his father during the night. If I thought I understood Logan before, now I understood him so much more. His father had told me a little about growing up the son of the mob boss, and how he’d tried to keep Logan away from that life. Killian had, too. Killian wanted the best for Logan and he knew the life he’d led wasn’t it. But then there had been Emily, her suicide, the aftermath, and the attack on Kayla. How Logan blamed himself. He had also told me how happy he was to see Logan with me, caring for someone, letting someone in, but he cautioned me—change didn’t happen overnight. The walls his son had built around himself would take a while to come down. And he asked me to be patient with Logan. I had agreed. Change, for either of us, wasn’t going to be easy. I’d spent the majority of my life avoiding relationships, not trusting men or my feelings. But what I felt for Logan was compelling, riveting, overwhelming. Fierce. And I didn’t want to let it go. Couldn’t.

I heard noises from downstairs and hurried to see if he was back.

But it wasn’t Logan in the kitchen closing the door. It was Miles. He’d just come inside. All night he’d rotated positions back and forth from his car parked on the street, to the family room, to the kitchen.

“Elle, sorry, did I wake you?”

I shook my head. “Have you heard anything?”

Miles looked anywhere but at me. “Declan just called me—”

“What did he say? Is Logan hurt?” The voice wasn’t mine, but it was asking the identical questions I was about to ask. It was Sean’s, and he was standing in the pantry alcove with a can of coffee in his hand.

“Mr. McPherson, sorry, I didn’t see you,” he answered. “Logan’s fine. He found Tommy, and nothing happened.”