Lead

Kristy Lee stiffens beside me.

“Who’s that?”

I don’t answer.

Can’t.

Because standing twenty feet away—

Looking exactly like twenty-two-year-old regret—

Is Abby.

My Abby.

Texas Abby.

Yellow Rose Abby.

My first wreck.

My longest mistake.

Kristy Lee looks at me.

“Gene?”

I swallow.

“Locker eighty-two.”

Her expression changes.

Not confusion anymore.

Recognition.

She remembers the locker I wouldn’t open. The one she chose not to ask about.

I keep staring at Abby.

“My first mistake.”

Abby smiles.

Same dimples.

Same blue eyes.

Same little scar near her lip from falling off a horse when she was sixteen.

Same everything.

She crosses the room slowly.

Like she knows I’m not going anywhere.

“Well…”

Her voice wraps around me like smoke.

“Look at you.”

She smiles softly.

“Still handsome.”

Beside me, Kristy Lee chambers a shell into her shotgun.

The sound cracks through the penthouse like thunder.

Abby looks at her.

Wrinkles her nose.

“Oh.”

Her eyes move from Kristy Lee’s boots to her face.

“So that’s what we’re doing now?”

Kristy Lee takes one step forward.

“Honey…”

Her voice is sweet enough to kill.

“You had your chance.”

Another step.

“He doesn’t belong to you.”

Before she can take a third—

“Kristy.”

John doesn’t raise his voice.

Doesn’t have to.

Kristy Lee looks toward the open elevator.

John hasn’t moved.

He remains inside, hands folded, watching us with that same grave expression.

She sees something in his face.

Something I don’t.

And stops.

Abby keeps smiling.

She holds one hand out to me.

“Dance with me.”

I should laugh.

Should raise my gun.

Should stay exactly where I am.

Instead—

I walk toward her.

I hear Kristy Lee whisper my name.

Hear Rachel breathe in sharply.

Hear John say nothing.

Abby slips into my arms like no time has passed.

Like Texas was yesterday.

Like I’m still young enough to believe wanting somebody means they’ll eventually want you back.

Somewhere inside the penthouse, the music changes.

Paradise City fades.

A soft waltz takes its place.

Of course it does.

Abby settles one hand against my shoulder. I take the other.

My broken pinky screams when I close my hand around hers.

I barely notice.

Abby smiles up at me.

“Remember Texas?”

I nod.

Against my will.

She leans closer.

“Remember what you told me?”

I don’t answer.

Her fingers tighten around mine.

“You told me you loved me.”

“No, he didn’t.”

Rachel’s voice cuts through the room.

Cold.

Sharp.

Abby freezes.

Only for half a second.

Rachel steps forward, eyes locked on her.

“Gene has never told anyone he loved them.”

The penthouse goes silent.

Abby’s smile twitches.

Just a little.

Kristy Lee looks at Rachel.

Not surprised by what she said.

Suspicious of how she knows.

I should notice that.

I don’t.

Then Ted screams.

I turn.

Ginger stands beside the private bar again.

Abby is still in my arms.

Rachel is still watching me.

Three women.

Three ghosts.

One room that stopped obeying the rules a while ago.

Ted aims at his daughter.

His hands shake.

Sweat runs down his face.

“You stay dead!”

The gun fires.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Glass explodes behind Ginger.

One of the floor-to-ceiling windows turns white with cracks.

Wind whistles through the bullet holes.

Ginger doesn’t move.

Doesn’t bleed.

Doesn’t blink.

She stands beside the bar, sipping her whiskey.

Smiling.

Almost bored.

Ted pulls the trigger again.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Empty.

Ginger sets her glass down and walks toward him.

Slow.

Easy.

Like a daughter approaching a frightened father.

Ted stumbles backward.

“No.”

She keeps coming.

“No. Stay away from me.”

Ginger smiles softly.

“Shh, Daddy.”

Ted tries to retreat, but the couch catches the backs of his legs.

He drops onto it.

Ginger stands over him.

For one second, something almost human passes across her face.

Then she places one long hand against his chest.

Her crooked pinky rests above his heart.

Ted stops breathing.

Ginger leans closer.

And disappears.

Not vanishes.

Not blinks away.

She goes into him.

Her hand first.

Then her arm.

Her face.

Her red hair.

Ted’s body locks.

His mouth opens, but nothing comes out.

The same helpless silence he gave Ginger at Portia’s.

His eyes roll back.

The gun slips from his fingers and lands on the carpet.

His body falls sideways across the white leather couch.

Drool runs down his chin.

His eyes remain open.

Nothing behind them.

Nobody moves.

Nobody breathes.

In that silence, I look back at Abby.

Really look.

At the smile.

The eyes.

The way she holds me.

I take one step.

She follows.

Another.

She follows that too.

And suddenly—

I’m leading.

Not chasing.

Not begging.

Not waiting for her to decide I’m worth wanting.

Leading.

I smile.

Abby smiles back.

I turn her once.

She moves perfectly.

Too perfectly.

I turn her again.

That’s when I feel it.

She doesn’t have weight.

Not real weight.

Her feet touch the floor, but the floor doesn’t answer.

No heel clicking against marble.

No shift in her balance.

No need for me to support her.

She isn’t dancing with me.

She’s letting me believe she is.

I spin her a third time.

Her auburn hair fans out behind her.

Her smile widens.

Abby never smiled when I led.

Abby never followed.

Abby never let me lead.

So I let go.

Her smile disappears.

Too late.

She flies backward into the window Ted weakened.

The spiderwebbed glass gives way.

Wind tears through the penthouse.

For one second, Abby hangs beyond the building.

Blue eyes fixed on mine.

Soft smile returning.

Then the wind passes through her.

Auburn hair becomes smoke.

Blue eyes become nothing.

She disappears before she ever falls.

Silence.

Wind.

Broken glass scattered across the marble.

I stare through the empty window.

Then look at Rachel.

At Kristy Lee.

Back at the place where Abby disappeared.

“Wasn’t her.”

I swallow.

“Abby never let me lead.”

Rachel reaches me first.

Of course she does.

She steps between Kristy Lee and me before wrapping both arms around my waist.

She holds tight.

Too tight.

Her body trembles against mine.

“I’m free.”

Her voice breaks.

Finally.

“I’m finally free.”

Kristy Lee starts toward us.

Stops.

Rachel tightens her grip.

“Please…”

She buries her face against my chest.

“Just hold me.”

Something about it feels wrong.

Not bad.

Not dangerous.

Just—

Wrong.

She doesn’t hold me like someone afraid I’ll leave.

She holds me like someone making sure I can’t.

I look toward John.

He’s still standing inside the elevator.

Still watching.

Still grave.

I swallow.

“Did I…”

My voice cracks.

“Did I do the right thing?”

John holds my gaze.

For one terrible second, I think he might answer.

Instead, he looks past me.

“Charles Henderson is waiting.”

That’s all.

The elevator doors begin to close.

The last thing I see before they meet is Ted Polmey sprawled across the white leather couch.

Eyes open.

Drool on his chin.

Heart still beating.

But whatever made him Ted is already gone.