Page 90 of Disavowed

He felt the balcony railing beneath his fingers as he rose shakily to his feet. The next thing he felt and heard was the rush of cold air and a metal door slamming behind him as he exited the hotel out the loading bay door. He didn’t know how he got there, and he didn’t know where he was going.

The only thing he knew was that he couldn’t go there again.

…

Daisy trembled violently. She looked down at Smith. His eyes were sightless. A small hole dead-center in his forehead, just above his nose, oozed blood. Behind him, the wall was smeared with more blood, and something gray and sticky. The same substance that was now stuck to one side of her face, neck, and chest.

Blood. Brains. It was all over her, and she wanted to scream. She gulped in air, clenching her fists. She looked up at the balcony, searching for Dom. She’d seen him there with the rifle in his hands, but now he was gone.

All around her, people screamed and ran for the doors. Someone shoved her backward until she slammed into the wall, right next to the dead man at her feet. Still shaking, she glanced at the balcony stairs, then searched the multitude of faces in the panicked crowd, expecting Dom to charge toward her and take her into his arms, telling her everything would be okay. But he didn’t. He wasn’t there. He wasn’t anywhere.

Someone grabbed her arm, and she jerked it back, but it was a uniformed police officer ushering her toward the exit.

“No!” She tried pulling free, straining toward the balcony stairs, but his grip was too strong.

The next thing she knew, she was sitting in an ambulance while an EMT wiped at the blood and gore spattering her face. Through the open rear doors she watched the total chaos ensuing on the street.

Sirens blared. Blue and red lights flashed as police cars and fire trucks rolled in, blocking the intersection in front of the hotel. People poured from the building, some screaming, all pushing and shoving to evacuate the area. One woman tripped and went down hard on her knees. An officer helped her to her feet, then directed others down the block.

Daisy peered around the EMT’s shoulder, straining to catch a glimpse of Dom in the frenzied rush, but she didn’t, and she had no way of contacting him or Gray. She gripped the edge of the gurney, struggling with the need to charge into the hotel and search for him, knowing there was no way she’d be allowed back inside.

He could be dead, or lying in a corner somewhere, bleeding out, and she would never even know it.

Please, please let him be okay.

A sob rose in her throat, and she buried her face in her hands.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Daisy excused herself from the crowded picnic table and walked to the back of Cassie and Mike’s large yard to check on the fenced-in perennial garden she’d designed for them a month ago. In truth, the garden hadn’t needed tending, but she’d been hit by a sudden wave of sadness and needed to be alone for a while.

She reached over the fence and trailed her fingers along the soft iris petals. It had been three months since Dom disappeared, and still the loneliness was a palpable thing, tormenting her every waking hour until she fell into bed, exhausted.

During the first month, she’d cried her eyes out from the crushing sadness, and lost even more weight from the stress of worrying over what had happened to him. Two months later, she found herself going through the motions of life in a daze, feeling empty inside, as if an integral part of her soul was missing and always would be. As she gazed at the lovely garden, her vision momentarily blurred, sorrow closing up her throat.

A shuffling sound came from behind her, and Daisy knew she was being followed. Again. A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed it.

Unflinching mocha-brown eyes stared up at her. When she took a few steps to the left, they tracked her. As she moved right, they followed her again. This was precisely why Cassie had insisted on the three-foot-high fence around her new garden.

The eight-week-old Belgian sheepdog puppy had been trailing her nearly every second since she’d arrived an hour earlier with Alex, Gray, and Nicky. The pup was adorable. A fluffy black ball with the tip of one pointed ear flopping over, bouncing with every prancing step the animal took.

Sharp yipping and laughter came from the opposite side of the yard where Nicky played with the other five puppies in Raven’s litter. Cassie’s former K-9 lay in a shady spot nearby on the grass, seemingly content yet maintaining a watchful eye on her litter of furry children.

Nicky picked up one of the puppies, laughing even louder when it began licking his face. This one wore a blue ribbon around its neck. Nicky had first pick of the litter, and after playing with them for over an hour had proudly selected this pup and named him Jet.

Appropriately named, this puppy was the fastest little thing on four legs, leading the pack as he tore around the yard with his brothers and sisters. But the instant the one now sitting at Daisy’s feet had caught sight of her she hadn’t left her side.

She couldn’t take it any longer and knelt on the grass. They locked gazes in a staring contest until the puppy broke first, uttering a high-pitched yip, then lifting its paw to her. She held out her hand and touched the soft, silky fur. The pup placed one tiny paw on Daisy’s knee, begging to be held. She picked up the puppy and cradled it against her chest. When the tiny pup looked up at her with those chocolaty eyes, something inside Daisy’s shattered heart broke free and she smiled. For the first time in months.

After the near-catastrophe at the Piazza, Gray and an entire squad of detectives had thoroughly searched every inch of the hotel and surrounding streets for Dom, but he was nowhere to be found. He’d disappeared, and no one had seen or heard from him since. Not his family, Gray, Alex, or anyone at the NYPD. Gray had checked every hospital in the city, but none of them had admitted Dom. Nor had a body matching his description been identified. There’d still been no news from him, and Daisy was worried and confused.

Gray was likewise worried but certain that Dom was alive. Somewhere. And that he was taking some much-needed alone-time to deal with everything. Gray said Dom had been MIA for months after Anika had died.

If he’s not dead, where is he? And how could he have left without a word?

She still couldn’t make sense of it, and perhaps never would.

It had taken her weeks after the Piazza to come to terms with how he’d used her, but she finally understood. Being a cop and protecting people was as much a part of him as the blood flowing through his veins. If he’d abandoned that ingrained sense of duty he wouldn’t be the man she’d fallen in love with.