Fight For You (5 page)

“So you want to end up in jail?” His eyes narrow. “How does that even the scales? If you end up going to prison for the rest of your life for murder?”

“I told you, as long as they’re dead, I don’t care.”

“Well you should,” Danny says, heat in his tone for the first time since he showed up at the worst possible moment. “Because you deserve to have a life after this. A real life. Not dying isn’t the same as living, Sam. You know that. You have to know it.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, hating the sound of my name on his lips and that he has pushed me to the edge of losing control with a few stupid questions. I’m better than this, harder than this, and I have to prove it to him or he’ll never leave me in peace.

With a deep breath, I open my eyes, staring up at him, willing him to believe the truth I’m about to tell. “I will never have the kind of life you’re talking about again. It’s too late for that.”

“Why?” he asks in a strained voice. “Why do you have to go down with them? Why can’t you let me help you find a way to do this that won’t end in disaster?”

“I told you I wasn’t strong enough to get through the trial.” I know the words will cut him deep, but I force myself not to care. “But you told me to go back to L.A. and deal with the mess I’d made. So I did.” I hold out my arms. “And this is what is left.”

His eyebrows draw sharply together and regret flashes behind his eyes. “I wondered if you blamed me. You have every right to though, in my defense, I had no idea…”

He swallows hard. “I didn’t know what they’d done and I never dreamed they’d get away with it.” His eyes begin to shine. “I’m sorry, Sam, for that and everything else.”

I cross my arms tight, fighting the wave of regret that swells behind my ribs. “It doesn’t matter now. Like I said, it’s too late. Apologies aren’t going to change things and I don’t want you here, Danny. I refuse to drag anyone else into this. If I’m on my own, then no one else gets hurt.”

“You can’t be serious.” He steps closer, his breath rushing out in something too painful-sounding to be a laugh. “All I’ve done is hurt. Hurt and hurt and go half out of my mind wondering where you are and if you’re okay. And then I saw you at the airport and I thought…”

He shakes his head, looking so lost I can’t help but feel bad for him. “I thought it was a sign. That we were going to climb out of this hell together.”

I cringe at the thought of “together,” of how close and terrifying that sounds.

“Not like that,” he says, apparently still able to read my mind. “Yes, I still love you. I’m never going to stop loving you, but if you don’t want me anymore, I’m not going to push.” His voice breaks on the final word, but when he continues it’s steady. “I’ll leave you alone, but I have to make sure you’re safe first. I have to, Sam. I can’t live with anything else.”

He reaches up, brushing a wisp of hair that’s escaped my braid away from my face, his touch so gentle it threatens to shatter me all over again. “Please. Talk to me. Really talk to me. Let me in enough to help keep you safe.”

“I don’t believe in safe,” I whisper, resisting the urge to lean into his big, warm hand. “Safety is an illusion. No one can keep anyone else safe, no matter how hard they try.”

Danny nods. “You’re right, but I can keep you safer. I know I can, if you’ll give me the chance. At the very least I can be your alibi.”

I hesitate, my resolve wavering.

If I make it back to my hotel after the shooting without getting caught, an alibi would be a good thing to have, and Danny wouldn’t have to be in any danger. He could stay in the room, and if anyone asks, he says I was there with him. Nothing dangerous about that.

Except having Danny in your room, sleeping next to you, breathing the same air, reminding you what it’s like not to be alone.

“Don’t answer now,” he says, cutting me off before I can tell him no again. “Let’s get target practice taken care of, make sure the gun’s not going to explode in your face the first time you try to fire it, and go from there. And while we shoot I can fill you in on some of the things I’ve been thinking.”

“It isn’t going to explode,” I say. “And you’re not allowed to shoot it. My prints are the only prints that are ever going to be on this gun.”

His lips curve again. “Anyone ever tell you you’ve got a bossy streak?”

I answer his attempt at a joke with a blank look.

I will not joke with him; I will not laugh with him. I will not let him past my defenses or give him any reason to hope for more than a brief connection before we go our separate ways.

After a moment, his smile diminishes though it doesn’t completely disappear. “All right. No teasing.”

“The canyon is still about a mile ahead.” I hitch my pack higher on my shoulder. “We should get going. I’d like to have at least an hour to shoot before it gets really hot.”

He holds out an arm, motioning toward the path. “Lead the way.”

I start back down the path, with Danny not far behind, but I know better than to think that means I’m leading. Danny has his own agenda and he won’t give up as easily as he’s pretending. There was a time when he was wrapped around my finger, but I was every bit as wrapped around his. He’s always been able to get to me like no one else, and I’m going to have to be very careful if I want to avoid being manipulated.

I’m going to have to remember that, no matter how familiar this feels, there is no Danny and Sam anymore.

That was the past and there is no room for the past in the here and now.

CHAPTER SIX

Danny

“By seeking and blundering, we learn.”

-Goethe

I spend an hour and a half watching Sam blast rocks of various sizes to pieces. She takes ever more difficult shots without missing, until I have to admit that as long as she’s lucky enough to catch all of her targets out in the open at the same time, she has an excellent chance of taking them out.

She’s an amazing markswoman, but I’m not surprised.

Sam has always been excellent at everything she does. Whether it was surfing, school, tutoring kids, or loving me, she was the best of the best.

A part of me is torn up that the girl I love is now the best at shooting sniper rifles, holding people at a distance, and staring the world’s cruelest realities in the face without flinching, but I can’t give in to that kind of thinking.

That’s not how I’m going to win Sam’s cooperation, let alone another chance at getting close to her. I have to show her that I understand what she’s going through because I’ve walked every step through hell right beside her. We might not have been in the same time zone, but I was always with her. She was never more than a minute or two from my thoughts, even in the dark hours when I thought Caitlin might die and my baby niece along with her.

Besides, we’ll both have a better chance of getting this done right if we create a new plan. My plan had holes and hers does, too, but together we should be able to come up with something that ensures punishment is dispensed while we walk away unscathed.

After Sam has burned through a box of ammunition, she joins me in the shade beneath a thickly rooted tree on the hill overlooking the canyon and pulls water and a bunch of bananas from her backpack. We share the food and drink, watching the birds return to the canyon now that the gun has gone silent. I keep my peace and give her space, waiting until I can sense her relaxing into the drowsy heat before I speak.

“There are worse things than death.” I roll up my banana peel and toss it onto the dusty ground, keeping my eyes on the stunning scenery in front of us. “Both of us know that.”

“There are,” she agrees. “But dead men can’t accuse me of a crime.”

“Neither can men who have no idea you’re in the same country that they are. There are ways to make them suffer that will leave them in the dark. At least at first. I had a few thoughts about that while I was sitting here.”

She takes a breath and I brace myself for another prompt to mind my own business, but instead she says, “What did you have in mind?”

“Do you think the guy who sold you the gun could get drugs, too?”

“Yes,” she says, without hesitation. “He could, but why would we want them?”

“The drug laws here are even more intense than the gun laws.” I cross my legs at the ankles and study my boots. “All we’d have to do is plant a kilo of cocaine on someone you’d like to see spend a decade in a Costa Rican prison and make sure the cops know where to find him.”

She nods slowly. “Scott. I’ve been going back and forth on what to do with him. He didn’t want to join in, I could tell. But he did because he’ll do anything Todd tells him to do.”

My mouth fills with the sour taste that always accompanies thoughts of four men taking turns violating Sam.

My
Sam. My best friend who is now a stranger to me, all because of what four frat fucks started and an ignorant L.A. jury finished.

“Or we can shoot him full of so much coke he overdoses and make it look like an accident,” I add in a harder voice. “If you want them dead, then they should be dead. They deserve it and it wouldn’t be a waste. A man who would do something like that doesn’t have anything worthwhile to bring to the world.”

She glances over at me, her expression gentling. “You’re a good man.”

“No, I’m not.” I fight the urge to take her hand and thread my fingers through hers the way I used to. “I’ve been daydreaming about killing them ever since I found out what happened. It’s all I’ve been able to think about. That and if I’d ever see you again.”

Her gaze drops to the dirt beneath us, where a giant beetle has found my banana peel and is crawling inside to investigate. “I wouldn’t have been any good for you. But I’m sorry I didn’t let you know I was okay.”

Unable to resist, I lay my hand over hers, chest tightening with relief when she allows it. “You don’t have to apologize. I’m the one who should apologize, for being such an asshole that last night in Taupo. I hated myself for it the next day. I haven’t had a drink since.”

“Me either. I don’t drink anymore.” She slides her hand out from under mine and stands, pacing a few steps away before turning back to face me. “So, say we get Scott sent to jail. Do the rest of them stay and finish their vacation?”

“You know they would,” I say, lip curling. “They won’t give a shit if one of their brothers is in trouble. They’ll say he brought it on himself, call a lawyer if they’re in a generous mood, and leave him to twist while they drink beer by the pool.”

She nibbles the pad of her thumb. “Would a lawyer be able to get him out?”

“Maybe,” I admit. “But not before he spends a year or more in jail waiting for a trial date. From what I’ve read, it seems like the Costa Rican courts try to be fair, but they’re not real concerned with quick. There are ten U.S. citizens in the prison in San Jose awaiting trial right now. Some on drug charges, but some for smaller stuff like destruction of property or unpaid child support. All of them have been locked up more than a year.”

“A year.” She tilts her head back with a sigh, gazing up at the leaves whispering above our heads while she mumbles something about “going soft” that I can’t quite make out.

“What?”

Her gaze returns to my face. “I can live with Scott spending a year in prison, but the rest of them don’t get off that easy. J.D. and Jeremy need something worse and Todd doesn’t live to hurt anyone again. He’s the one who made it happen. He’s the leader. Without him, the rest would have backed off.”

I nod. “So we do J.D. and Jeremy—”

“
I
do J.D. and Jeremy,” she corrects. “You can help with the plans and be my alibi, but that’s as far as it goes. If I’m caught, I’m caught alone.”

“I don’t want to leave you alone.” I want to pull her into my arms and hold her until the layer of frost covering her heart melts away. “Don’t you think you’ve spent enough time alone?”

“I’m serious,” she says, staring me down. “If you can’t promise me you’ll stay out of the serious shit and mean it, then you need to leave. I’m not going to change my mind about that.”

“Fine,” I agree, knowing I should be grateful I’ve gotten her to bend this far. “You do J.D. and Jeremy at the same time and we work out a way to make whatever happens look like an accident.”

“And then we get Todd right after,” she says, pacing back and forth at the edge of the shade. “Before he has time to connect the dots and realize he’s the last man standing. No poetic justice for him, just something swift and final. And then we both leave the country the next day.”

“Sounds good.”

She turns back to me, head drifting to one side as she studies me. “Does it? Really?”

“The leaving the country part. And knowing it’s finally over,” I say, admiring the way the sun filtering through the leaves catches the gold in her hair. “I like the blond. I still love the brown best, but this looks good on you. Makes your eyes seem even bluer.”

“Don’t,” Sam says, her voice soft.

“Don’t what?” I ask, feigning innocence.

“You know what. That’s part of the bargain too. If you stay, you stay as a partner on this project. Nothing more.”

My jaw tightens. “Project is a weird word to describe framing, maiming, and killing, don’t you think?”