Page 171 of The Darkest Chase

Eustace, leaning to whisper to Xavier. A subtle turn of their heads, not quite toward the camera.

Then Eustace slipping off into the trees.

Brian clearly never figured out that he was spotted because he kept taking photos up until the point where the next photo goes blurry.

He’s falling.

A few more shots auto-clicking, showing the night whizzing by.

Just pure sky.

And then the last shot.

An ominous, dark silhouette with a long skirt, standing at the edge of the cliff and looking down.

Talia’s low gasp breaks my trance.

“Shit,” I mutter, inhaling roughly and looking at her. She’s staring at the screen, her blue eyes liquid with fear, one hand pressed over her mouth.

Rolf whines and noses at her thigh.

“Oh my God,” Talia whispers. “She… she really pushed him.”

“I’m afraid so. Not one word of what you saw here, Talia. I have a lot of legal channels to go through to put this to work. If they get wind that we know, even the slightest hint, they could just up and disappear. And I’ll lose everything.”

“What? I’d never do that to you!” She sounds a little hurt, but mostly just insistent. “I know how much you need this.”

“I had to make sure.” I look back at the screen and start downloading the files just in case they vanish from the cloud. “You should go home. I’m going to be wrapped up in this for a while. No reason for you to get tangled up deeper.”

No reason for you to get hurt, I mean.

I’ve used her enough.

I never should have to start with, though without her I wouldn’t have any of this.

I’m grateful.

More grateful than I know how to express.

Which is why I need to let her go before she gets in so deep she can’t find her way out.

I turn slowly, swiveling the barstool—but my knee hits her bag and it slips off her shoulder. It tumbles to the floor, spilling folders and papers.

We both lunge for it, me cursing.

We almost bang heads as we hit the kitchen floor on our knees.

She grabs her portfolio while I sweep up the scattered papers and stop, frowning at what looks like a top sheet of legal jargon beneath the Arrendell letterhead.

“What’s this?”

Talia blinks, then tugs it out of my hand and looks at it.

There’s a guilty flush to her cheeks, but she’s also smiling.

“Oh, the contract!” She fans the pages to the last one, where a monogrammed check is paper-clipped to the final signed page. “The first check.” Her smile nearly breaks her face. I realize just what I’m about to do as she says, “Grandpa’s going to be okay.”

Fucking hell.

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