Page 88 of Fury

My knees gave way, and I slid down to the floor, shuddering, taking in great big gulps of air. I wrapped my trembling arms around my chest and bit down on my tongue to stop the moans from escaping.

The next time we spoke, I told Finger what had happened.

“Oh fuck. Baby…” His breath hissed sharply over the phone. “Goddammit.”

“They didn’t recognized me,” I assured him. “It was okay. I’m okay.”

But silently, I asked myself how long could that “okay” possibly last?

23

“Are you sure about quittingthe gallery?” I asked Tania.

She handed me a mug of hot chocolate as I folded my legs underneath me on her sofa. We were catching up on each other’s news, not having been able to see each other for weeks because of our hectic schedules.

“I’m sure and terrified, but I know I need to do it. I’d rather be an independent dealer working for collectors and representing artists. I’ve learned a lot about the art business and the art world, met a lot of personalities, understood how things work, but at the end of the day, I don’t want to own my own gallery or run someone else’s. The job’s been feeling dead-end for a while now.”

“Just a job.”

“Exactly. And I don’t want just a job. I want something more.”

“How did Neil take it?” I asked.

“He tried to talk me out of it, but he gets it. We’d talked about opening our own gallery together one day, but my heart’s just not in it.”

“Good for you for realizing that,” I said. “That would be awful if you made a commitment to Neil and then you weren’t really into it.”

“That’s how I feel. Better to explore now, and if I want, I can go back, right?”

“Sure, why not? I’m excited for you, my adventurer.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s wonderful. It’s the right move.”

My gaze fell on a framed photo of Tania and her best friend Grace from high school back in South Dakota. Grace had just gotten married when I’d first met Tania four years ago, and she had married a biker, Dig, an officer of the One-Eyed Jacks, their local club. Recently, Dig had gotten killed in some sort of assassination by a rival club. Tania had told me how her mother had called her to tell her the horrible news. Grace had survived a bullet wound, and the death of her unborn child, and she’d killed the fucker who’d gunned down her man.

Good for you, Grace. Good for you.

“How’s Grace doing?” I asked.

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“I went home for Dig’s funeral.”

“Right.”

“The night before she tried to kill herself in the hospital.”

“No!”

“Yes. It was horrible. They pumped her stomach, though. None of us could see her after, and then I had to leave the next day to get back here for work. After I left, Grace’s sister, Ruby, let my mom see her, which was good. Mom said she was far gone, very depressed.” Tania wiped at her watery eyes. “Grace was the one who always looked at the positive in any situation. I was always Ms. Worst Case Scenario. She really wanted that baby. Their baby. Now no baby, and—oh yeah—no more babies for her ever again after her injuries and the surgery she had to have. I have no idea how to help her.”

“Maybe now she just needs to focus on herself, and soon enough she’ll be ready for friends and be open to you reaching out. All you can do is be patient and understanding and be there for her whenever she’s ready.”

“Grace got out of the hospital, but she hasn’t returned my calls. I called Ruby last week, and she was pretty tight-lipped with me, which pissed me off. I’m trying to be understanding, but it’s harder than I expected.”

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