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“You already have.” I use my most bored voice, one I save for pesky insects who annoy me. “What else do you have to say?”
I swear, if Ethan doesn’t need dental work when this is over, it won’t be because of my lack of trying. His teeth visibly click together. Still, when his jaw unlocks, his words almost cause me to fall again. “I have the authority to tell you anything you want to know.”
Like a veil of fog being lifted from the estate in the early morning, some of Ethan’s words at my mother’s come back to me. He was investigating Devil’s Lair. He infiltrated an organization that, regardless of whether they end up being sinners or saints, gave my mother a chance to live. In the process, it crushed my heart. But I have to push back from him because the stupid organ doesn’t fully get it since it’s rapidly beating. Irritated with myself, my voice is a growl when I inform him, “My place. One hour. Don’t be late.”
I note his body posture slumps just before I walk away. My heart wails even as my head tries to make sense of what happened. Oh, Ethan, why couldn’t you just talk to me before?
But finally I’ll have the explanations I need to move on.
Before I continue packing.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE
SHE SAID YES!
—@PRyanPOfficial
Of course, you had to tell the whole world? Now, where are you taking me?
—@CuteandRich3
I pull in next to Fallon’s car behind Galileo’s. Shutting off my vehicle, I suck in a deep breath as I stare up at her window. The curtains flutter, telling me she’s aware I arrived. Minutes later, she comes downstairs and her security door opens. It’s another reminder of her lack of trust, knowing she doesn’t even trust me with her door code. Before everything, she’d have texted me the code and met me at the top of the stairs like she did the night of her graduation.
Knowing I’m unworthy of even a six-digit number is just another bruise on my heart, but I know I deserve every single one of the kicks I’m enduring. Still, I alight from the car and make my way to her. Staring down into her eyes, my voice drops of its own accord. “I appreciate you making the time to speak with me.”
She turns without a word and climbs the stairs up to her apartment. I follow behind her, entranced by the natural sway of her hips as she jogs ahead of me. Once we cross the threshold of her apartment, I come to a dead stop.
All around are packing boxes of varying shapes and sizes. My throat swells up and threatens to cut off my oxygen supply to my brain. “You…you’re moving?”
She rolls her eyes as she squeezes between smaller book boxes as if to say, Way to notice, Captain Obvious. Making her way to her couch, she perches on the edge of the arm. “You said you had the authority to tell me everything? I’d like to know why you were spying on my life.”
“It didn’t start like that.” Slowly, meticulously, I explain to her what I really do. The threats against another former agent. How we stumbled upon cracking into Devil’s Lair. And how someone was using “Filia’s” access code.
When I get to that part, Fallon noticeably pales. Her whole demeanor changes and she slides off the arm of the sofa when I share how I accessed the files that linked her to being “Filia.” Her hands visibly shake, but still she skewers me with her eyes. “Why couldn’t you explain it to me just like this before?”
I crouch down in front of her and lay my hands over hers. “It’s national security, Fal.”
“Explain that to me because the closest thing I understand about national security is secret tunnels used in National Treasure to see the back of the Declaration of Independence.”
I have to bite back a smile because I recall how Leanne said they bonded over that very thing. I squeeze her fingers. “It means there’s certain information I—we, that is, people who have access to the data—can’t share with the public. I was waiting to get the authorization to be able to share this with you.”
She’s thoughtful for a moment. “And this agency you work for…”
I’m quick to correct her. “Used to work for. I only do odd jobs for them now and then.”
“How long did you work for them?”
I give her a brief rundown of how I got started in the navy, put in fifteen years, and then, “When I got out, that’s when the Agency recruited me but I didn’t last there long.”
“Why’s that?” Her head cocks to the side.
I open my mouth, but I can’t force the words out.
Her brows draw together. “Ethan?”
Nervously, I try to pass it off. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Ethan,” she pushes, albeit gently.