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Finally, I pull back so she can hear me clearly. “But I lived my life already, Fallon. I don’t want to rob you of yours. You need to be certain. Do you understand?”
She meets my gaze, a silent acknowledgment passing between them, a fragile connection forged in the midst of chaos, uncertainty, and shared family agony. “I understand,” she whispers.
“Don’t cut me off. God, don’t cut me out of your life again, witch.”
Her fingers drag down my cheek. “I won’t.”
In that moment, as the world outside continued to spin, I found a pocket of solace in a fragile bond, a flare of hope amidst the darkness that surrounded the four walls of this room.
CHAPTER TWELVE
NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK
Comfort food is called that not because of the ingredients but because of the people who bring it to you.
—Fab and Delish
Four Years Ago—August
Even though I was brought here to courier some food from our hometown to my niece since returning from her stint at the hospital, I have this overwhelming need to escape the emotions suffocating my brother-in-law’s penthouse. Fuck. Seeing Austyn so broken is cutting me deep.
Even knowing I’m the one who stopped what could have happened in Seven Virtues, it makes me wish Fallon were by my side—not only to deal with her best friend but to help heal the ache in my heart. I know she could, simply by being in the same room as me.
Instead, I looked up an old friend, knowing he relocated his family years ago after his company merged with the largest investigative firm in the nation. As I stand in the pristine office, I mutter, “You’ve come a long way, buddy.”
“And if you think this is my office, you’re off your rocker, Kensington. I’m the mad scientist they keep locked away for good reason.”
Crossing the room in a few strides, I clasp the dark-haired man’s hand before lifting it to my chest and bumping his chest against mine. “It’s great to see you, man.”
“Same, Ethan. It’s been too long,” my hero and mentor Sam Aiken replies.
“Wish it was under better circumstances.”
“Me too.” Sam gestures me back so he can shut the door behind him.
“Sweet view,” I remark as I gaze out the window at the view of Rockefeller Center.
Sam twitches at all the sunlight. “You know, I think it was supposed to be my office. By now, one of Caleb’s or Keene’s kids has appropriated this space. Maybe Cal’s?” He scratches his head as he rattles off his partners.
I snicker. “For real? You got booted out of your own executive suite and you’re not even certain by whom?”
“Let’s be real. I’m never in here.” He tries to keep his lips from twitching when he admits, “My real office has a four-foot air gap with copper mesh wires shielding it.”
I lean back in the visitor chair and thread my hands behind my head. “Ahh, sounds just like my place back home.”
“You have the same kind of setup in Texas?”
“Had to build it if I wanted to partner on some of the work with Castor as prime,” I admit, not without some rancor. “Between you and me, Leanne Miles can be a real pain in the ass about the specs she demands. I technically am a small business.”
Sam, bless him, chokes on his laughter as I blast one of the DoD’s darlings of software development, who I know through family connections has indirect ties to the company he’s part owner of Hudson Investigations. “I see you haven’t changed much, Ethan.”
I cajole him. “Come on, Sam. Tell your wife you want to come to work with me. It will be just like old times.”
He shoots me a filthy look at the reminder. “The last time you and I worked on an op together, it was life and death, and we were with my wife being screamed at in Italian in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. I much prefer when she yells at other people in foreign languages.”
Rocking the chair back on two legs, I grin at him. “Yeah, me too. Much better for my stress level.”
“You ain’t kidding.” Sam leans against the front of the office desk, crossing his ankles. “So, what brought you to visit me? Why aren’t we having this reunion somewhere fun?”