Not You It's Me (Boston Love #1) - Julie Johnson Page 0,134
our summer house in Manchester... It was raining out, really miserable. The roads were slick…
My hands clench tighter around the wheel.
“Why are we here?”
The Hulk looks over at me, surprised I’ve broken my resolute silence, and readjusts his gun where it lays against his knee.
“Brett wanted you to bring me here, right?” I try to keep my voice calm, but it starts to fray as hysteria creeps in. “He did, didn’t he?”
He looks out the window, as though thoroughly bored by my questions.
“Why?” I ask. “Why here?”
He doesn’t say a word.
But I worry, deep in my bones, that I already know the answer.
***
When we round a bend and the bridge comes into sight, I pump the breaks. Hard.
It’s smaller than I thought it would be — maybe forty feet across, fifteen feet wide, constructed of wood planks and a stone foundation. Thin, plywood railings on either side are all that separate cars from plummeting into the inlet below, where water rushes in with the evening tide.
A small, overgrown sign peeks out from the foliage at the side of the road.
CROFT ESTATE
Shit.
The Hulk looks over at me. “Keep going.”
“No, I don’t think so.” My hands tighten around the wheel until my fingertips turn white.
His gun hand twitches slightly, but he doesn’t lift it. Instead, he reaches out, punches a few keystrokes into the built-in navigation system, and leans back in his seat, waiting.
The sound of ringing fills the car.
“Is it done?”
Chills break out all over my body as Brett’s oily voice oozes from the speakers.
“You psychopath!” I snap, vibrating with anger and fear. “What the hell is wrong with you? What am I doing here?”
A dry chuckle sounds over the line. “Ah, Miss Summers. Still with us, then.”
My heart starts to pound. “Why am I here? You have your revenge. You found out about Phoebe, about my father – you’ve got all the ammunition you need to derail my life.”
“And there’s the fundamental flaw in your thinking,” he tells me cheerily. “Because this isn’t about you, Gemma. It’s never been about you, or the West family.”
“It’s about Chase,” I whisper.
“Brava!” He sounds amused. “The greatest illusionists — and businessmen, for that matter — know that distraction is one of the best tools in the box, my dear. Slight of hand, shift of focus — you distract the audience with a trick in your right hand, while your left works the real magic.”
“Listen, Brett, I don’t know what you’re planning, but whatever it is, I’d suggest you rethink it.”
“Oh, really?” He sounds amused. “And why would I do that?”
“You really think you won’t get caught, if you hurt me?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Gemma.” He chuckles again. “You drove up to your boyfriend’s summer house, perhaps to confront him after a rather unpleasant interaction with his ex-girlfriend — in a car rented under his company name, I might add. On your way, you met with a terrible accident, on the same bridge where others — your boyfriend’s parents, in fact — lost their lives in the past. Such a tragically beautiful coincidence. And such a dangerous bridge! Maybe we’ll have it torn down, in memory of all the people it’s taken from Chase. That would be quite poetic.”
“You’re sick.” I swallow against the lump in my throat. “You really think Chrissy won’t tell the police it was your thug who grabbed me? That Chase won’t know it was you, if you hurt me here?”
“Oh, Miss Summers. It’s a good thing you’re pretty, because you aren’t exceptionally clever.” I can hear the grin in his voice. “The police will never be able to link me to this with anything more than circumstantial evidence – and everyone knows, that’s not the kind that sticks. Plus, there’s the problem of a motive. Why would I possibly want to hurt you?” He makes an amused tsk noise. “Even if Chase goes to the police with everything he’s been collecting against me for the past decade, it’ll be his word against mine. And I’m not the one with a criminal record. Who do you think they’ll believe, Gemma?”
My stomach clenches so hard I think I might throw up.
“Poor Chase.” He laughs. “Of course, he’ll know the truth. That’s half the fun. In fact, I tipped him off. He’s on his way there, as we speak.”
My heartbeat picks up speed, thinking of Chase. Of how terrified he must be, driving back to the place where his parents died, knowing what’s waiting for him when he gets