Page 64 of Dual Surrender

“What’s up?” Ronan asked, and I crumpled at the sound of his voice.

I hadn’t realized how much of a toll all the shit with Foster and Sage had taken on me until the relief I felt at the way his voice wrapped around me like a blanket. I sucked in a breath, trying not to cry.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “You sound like you’re about to lose it.”

My back collided with the wall and I slid down until my ass hit the ground. I cradled the phone against my ear and raised my knees up to my chin.

“I’m fine,” I promised him. “I’m fine. Just. There were cops here.”

“What for?” Ronan’s alarm was practically tangible, and I couldn’t stop myself from smiling at it, knowing he was in the same place I’d just been.

“The general contractor on one of my jobs went missing,” I said. “They just wanted to know when I saw him last. But when Hank said the police were here, I thought…”

I didn’t finish the sentence, because I didn’t need to.

“I’m okay,” he promised. “I’m okay, Kevin.”

“Shit.”

Iwascrying.

“Kevin, baby,” Ronan said quietly. “Take a deep breath.”

I tried, breath catching on unshed tears in my throat.

“I’m tired of this,” I managed to say. “This not knowing. I didn’t realize until…”

“I know.” Ronan sounded tired. “It’ll pass, though.”

“You sound confident.”

“I am.”

I closed my eyes and dropped my forehead against my knees with a sigh. “I broke my phone.”

“We’ll get you a new one,” Ronan said.

“Can we get new friends while we’re at it?” I asked with a meek laugh.

“I don’t like Foster very much right now.” Ronan’s words were careful and thoughtful, and I knew what it cost him to admit that. “But he’s still Foster.”

“I know,” I grumbled.

“I have to get back to work,” he said.

“I know,” I grumbled again.

“I love you. I’ll see you when I’m off.”

“Yes, Ronan.” I swallowed. “I love you too.”

I ended the call and dropped my phone onto the floor. No need to be careful with it considering it was already ruined.

“Hank!” I hollered, stretching my legs out and banging my head against the wall. In less than five seconds, the door to my office opened, Hank’s red suede shoes visible from beneath my desk. He wore cuffed khaki pants, the hairs on his ankles peeking out from beneath the hem. I imagined Sam would like Hank’s shoes very much.

“I want a new desk,” I said from my spot on the floor. “Something wood.”

“Yes, sir.”