By a Thread (40 page)

It wasn't wrong of Donovan to believe in truth and justice and to want to follow the law and do things by the book. But it wasn't right of him to always condemn me out of hand either, or more importantly, want me to change to suit his ideals so he could feel better about being with me.

Still, for the first time, I didn't feel any anger or rancor toward the detective. Instead, I just felt sorry for him. Donovan was a good guy who wanted the thrill of being with a bad girl. It was up to him to come to terms with that. I wasn't apologizing for myself anymore, especially not to him.

“You have a good thing going with Callie,” I said in a soft voice. “She really does love you, Donovan. You should try to make it work
with her, but if you can't love her wholeheartedly like she loves you, like she deserves to be loved, like everyone deserves to be loved, then you need to let her go. That's what good guys do, Donovan. They think of people other than themselves and what they want. So you need to man up and walk the walk that you always spout to others.”

He didn't say anything, but I could see the conflict, guilt, and shame in his face. He cared about Callie, maybe he even loved her, but here he was, kissing another woman inside his fiancée's restaurant with her standing just outside the door. That wasn't exactly the kind of good, upstanding, honorable guy Donovan wanted to be, but that was his problem now—not mine.

Not anymore.

“Whatever you decide about Callie, I hope that you have a good life, Donovan,” I said. “Because I certainly intend to—with Owen.”

I stared at the detective a second longer, looking at the planes of his face, remembering everything he'd made me feel, remembering everything he'd once meant to me. Then I put those feelings and memories away forever—finally severing the last thread that had tied me to him for so long.

I turned my back to Donovan the way he'd once done to me and walked away. I didn't look back. I didn't have to. There was nothing for me here.

My future was waiting outside—with Owen.

28

I opened the screen door, stepped outside,
and rejoined the others. Callie and Bria were standing in the lot, still talking about bridesmaids' dresses and when Bria might be able to come back to Blue Marsh for a fitting, while Finn and Owen were sitting on top of one of the electric blue picnic tables, sunglasses on and faces turned up to enjoy the sun. I walked over to the two of them.

“So how did it go?” Finn asked, looking at me over the tops of his sunglasses. “Did Donovan tearfully proclaim his undying love?”

“Something like that,” I said in a mild voice, making sure that Callie couldn't hear us.

“And then what?” Finn asked, his green eyes gleaming. “I want all the juicy details.”

“You're such a gossip.” I spoke to Finn, but I looked at Owen, who hadn't said a word. “And then I punched the smug bastard in the stomach and told
him that I loved Owen. That's what.”

Finn grinned. “That's my girl. Always resorting to violence.”

I shrugged. “You stick with what works.”

Owen got off the table and gently brushed a piece of hair back off my face. “I'll second that.”

He leaned down and kissed me, and I felt everything with him that I'd been missing with Donovan—everything I'd always been missing with the detective. Understanding. Concern. Caring. Love.

A minute later, Donovan stepped out of the Sea Breeze, his face carefully calm and blank, the earlier turmoil in his eyes gone, although perhaps not forgotten. He looked at me standing next to Owen, and his face tightened. For a moment, I thought I saw a flash of regret in his eyes. Whatever it was, the detective quickly pushed the emotion aside. He went over to Callie's side and slid his arm around her waist. He didn't look at me again. Good. I didn't want him to.

Callie and Bria finally wrapped up their conversation, and Owen, Finn, and I walked over to where they were standing. Once again, my sister's eyes drifted from me over to Donovan and back again.

“Is everything okay?” Bria asked in a cautious voice. “Are you ready to go now, Gin?”

That wasn't what she was really asking me, and we both knew it. But I had been ready to let go of Donovan for a long time, even if I hadn't realized it.

“Yeah, I'm ready.”

She looked at me
and nodded. “Good. I'm glad to hear it.”

We all fell silent for a moment before Finn let out a long, tired, I'm-so-put-upon sigh.

“Well, I suppose that it's time for me to hand these over again,” he muttered.

Finn pulled his car keys out of his pocket and dangled them in front of Bria. “Do me a favor. Try not to get my car smashed up on the way back home, okay?”

That was another reason that we'd decided to stay in Blue Marsh a few more days—so Finn could get his car fixed. The mechanic had finally returned the Aston Martin this morning in what Finn had reluctantly deemed appropriate shape, meaning that everything had been replaced and that he couldn't find any real fault with the car. He had perked up considerably though when he handed me the bill for the repairs. Finn always enjoyed passing the buck like that.

So we were leaving the same way that we'd come down to Blue Marsh. Bria and I were driving the convertible back to Ashland, while Owen was riding with Finn in the Escalade.

“Oh, shut up and give me those already.” Bria snatched the keys out of Finn's hand.

Instead of being intimidated by her slightly cross tone, he took the opportunity to draw her close, bend her over, and plant a long, sound kiss on her lips just like he had in the restaurant a few days ago. Finn always liked to be grandiose, no matter how large or small his audience was. After a moment, Bria let out a sigh, wrapped her arms around
his neck, and melted into his embrace.

I just smiled.

After Finn and Bria came up for air, the guys said their final good-byes to Callie. Then Finn and Owen got into the Escalade and pulled out of the parking lot. A minute later, they were gone, headed back to Ashland, although I'd see them again before we reached the city. We'd already made plans to hook up at a rest stop between here and there in an hour or so and follow each other back home.

That left me standing outside the restaurant with Callie, Bria, and Donovan. The detective shook hands with Bria, then turned and finally looked at me. His eyes were dark and a little sad too, but I also saw relief mixed in with the other emotions. Donovan might have wanted me, but deep down, he hadn't wanted to wreck his new life with Callie either. Sooner or later, he'd realize that, if he hadn't already.

“Good-bye, Gin,” Donovan said in a low, rough voice.

He hesitated, then stuck out his hand, like we were just two casual acquaintances going our separate ways instead of a couple who'd once had an intense affair. Maybe acquaintances were all that we were now. Hell, maybe that's all we had ever really been to start with.

I wrapped my fingers around his and gave his hand a firm, final shake. “Good-bye, Donovan.”

The detective's fingers tightened around mine for the briefest instant before I dropped his hand and stepped back. And that was that—Donovan Caine was out of my life once again. But this time, it was by my choosing and on my terms.

Donovan stared at me
another second before going back inside the restaurant. I didn't watch him go. I didn't need to. Not anymore.

Bria gave Callie a final hug, and the two women made all sorts of promises about visiting each other and staying in touch, trying to make the moment last just a little while longer. Then Callie turned to me. I was surprised when the other woman held out her arms and hugged me as well.

“Thank you for everything, Gin,” she whispered in my ear. “Especially for Donovan and letting him go.”

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. Perhaps Callie hadn't been as oblivious about the detective as I'd thought. I wondered what she would say to him after I left and where they would go from here. But that was up to them now, and I was out of things—for good.

“You're welcome,” I whispered back.

We broke apart. Callie waved at us a final time and then went back inside the restaurant, getting ready to open up for the supper crowd. The familiarity made me smile and miss the Pork Pit. Vacations were all well and good, but I was looking forward to going home and getting back into the swing of things.

And then there were two of us—Bria and I standing outside in the sandy lot where this whole thing had started last week. My sister's eyes traced over the neon blue clamshell sign, the one that spelled out the words
The
Sea Breeze
, and a wistful look filled her pretty face. I walked over to stand beside her.

“I'd understand if you wanted to stay here in Blue Marsh,” I said in a soft voice. “I know that it was your home once and that
it could be again. That you have a lot of good memories here and that part of you wants to go back into the restaurant and tell Callie you're leaving Ashland and moving back down here for good.”

Bria tried to smile, but it didn't come off so well. “Is it that obvious?”

I nodded and drew in a breath, bracing myself. Now came the hard part. Because there was something else I wanted to say to my sister before we left Blue Marsh, something I needed to say, something I'd been thinking about ever since I'd had those dreams about Fletcher leaving me on the mountain so long ago. The old man had taught me a lesson that day, one that I'd half forgotten, but that was still important—maybe the most important thing he'd ever made me realize about myself and what I did.

“You know, ever since I killed Mab, I've been waiting for the other shoe to drop with you,” I said.

Bria frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that Mab's dead. She can't hurt us anymore, she can't hurt
you
anymore. The threat she posed to you is over. Done. Finished. You're free to live your life however you want to—wherever you want to. Don't tell me you haven't thought about it, that you haven't thought about leaving Ashland for good.”

Her face tightened with guilt, but I wasn't finished yet. I had to get the words out. I had to know where we stood. I had to let her know that she was free from everything now—including me.

“I know how much Mab hurt you, how horribly she tortured you. We both know that none of that probably would have happened if I hadn't been the Spider and so determined to kill Mab
for murdering our family. Like it or not, I'm the reason that you got hurt.”

Memories of that horrible night flashed in Bria's eyes, along with the emotions that went with them—rage, fear, helplessness, pain. So much pain that it took my breath away, but I kept talking.

“So every day since then, I've been waiting for you to tell me you've had enough. That you're tired of having an assassin for a sister and that you want to go back to your old Gin- and Spider-free life. It wasn't so bad in Ashland because of all the distractions, all the folks gunning for me. But then we came down here, and everything changed. I saw how happy being back here made you, and it only made me that much more insecure because of my fear that you'll someday leave me behind and never look back. That was one of the reasons I was such a bitch to Callie that first night in the restaurant. I was jealous of her and her relationship with you. I was jealous of how much you loved her, when you don't seem to feel the same way about me.”

Bria opened her mouth to protest that it wasn't true, that she was just fine with my being an assassin, that she wasn't thinking about getting while the getting was good, but I held up a hand, cutting her off.

“It's okay,” I said. “I understand how hard this has been for you. It's why Donovan and I didn't work out. Because he couldn't accept who and what I was and that I was okay with being an assassin, that I'm okay with being the bad guy.”

I drew in a final breath. “But I've been tiptoeing around you because you're my sister, and I just can't do that anymore. Like it or not,
I'm the Spider. I'm always going to want to kill first and ask questions later. It's just who I am, who Fletcher raised and trained me to be, just like your foster dad raised you to be a cop and follow the law. I'm your sister, and I love you, Bria. More than you'll ever know. But if you want to stay here in Blue Marsh and pretend you never discovered that I was still alive, I'll understand. It's your choice, just like being an assassin is mine. But I'm not going to apologize for what I do anymore, and I'm not going to be afraid of losing your love or approval.”