Page 14 of Midnight Between Us (The Timberbridge Brothers #4)

Chapter Eleven

Simone

For a second, I think he’s actually going to do it.

Malerick is going to cuff me, charge me, and toss me into a fucking cell because his precious town is hurting, and someone has to pay for it. It turns out that I’m just convenient enough to wear the blame.

Of course, they blame me. I’m Nina Moreau’s daughter. And no one ever lets you forget where you came from in Birchwood Springs. Everyone will remind me that my grandfather was a pillar of this town, their leader. I’m just a fucking disappointment just like my mother.

Honestly, I don’t care if that’s what they believe.

Maybe part of me even wants him to.

Because every breath feels like borrowed air in a life I didn’t ask for, I was out. Gone. Free of this town, this history. And now? I’m back in the middle of everything I swore I’d never touch again.

Mal stares at me like he’s waiting for something—a crack, a confession. Something that’ll make this all easier for him to carry.

“You’re working for them,” he says, low and rough. “Just fucking admit it.”

My stomach coils.

I should say no. Scream it, even.

But I don’t.

I stay quiet.

One second too long.

One breath too deep.

And Malerick sees it.

He leans in like he’s finally caught whatever the hell he’s been chasing.

“Fuck,” he murmurs. “It’s true, you’re just a fucking mole and not a noble doctor.”

Technically, he’s not wrong, but he’s also not right.

I don’t work for the syndicate. But yeah—I work for someone who operates in the gray.

I patch criminals and save assassins because they need them alive.

The company doesn’t post office hours or PR statements.

My boss operates like the shadows as a feature, not a flaw.

I could try to explain that, justify the secrecy, but would it even matter?

“Enough,” Atlas snaps, his voice slicing down the hallway like glass through tension.

I’m glad there’s no one on this side of the clinic or this would be a shit show that no one in Birchwood Springs would forget.

“Fucking Crait Quantum Shield and their damn secrets,” he mutters. “Gil got everyone spinning in circles while he pulls strings nobody sees.”

My head jerks toward him. “How the hell do you know about CQS?”

He exhales like it costs him something. “I just do.” He doesn’t say more. Doesn’t have to. There’s a look in his eyes I’ve only ever seen in people who signed the same kind of NDA. I did—and I’m obviously paying for it. I might even pay in blood.

Then he steps closer to Malerick and jabs a finger into his chest.

“She’s not the enemy, Mal. She works for CQS. They always post a doctor nearby when they have someone undercover—that’d be Cass, by the way, in case you haven’t caught on. I’m sorry you’re in the dark, but that’s what happens when you’re a local sheriff trying to play federal cop.”

Mal’s jaw ticks. “She didn’t deny working with the syndicate. What if she’s a double agent?”

“Because she can’t,” Atlas snaps. “The agency’s legit, and they don’t advertise who’s undercover doing classified shit.”

Mal glares at me. “I thought she said she was a doctor.”

“I am a fucking doctor,” I growl. “My job is to patch up criminals, keep agents breathing, and monitor threats no one else sees. And I’ve been doing that for this town around the same time you began to play sheriff.”

He stares like he’s trying to decide whether to believe me or drag me out by my scrub top.

I look at Atlas. “Why do you know about CQS?” I ask, again.

His expression flickers—guilt, maybe. Or something closer to complicity.

I remember treating Blythe during her pregnancy. She had an NDA so thick it could’ve suffocated a lawsuit. I thought it was about her ex, who was an abusive monster—and a criminal. It was about safety.

Now . . . I’m not so sure.

“Are you involved with CQS?” I ask him.

He doesn’t answer.

“So I’m supposed to ignore that she’s—what? Hiding a patient? Covering for someone?” Mal snaps, still not letting it go. “How do I know we can trust her with people’s lives?”

Atlas closes the gap between them, eyes narrowing. “You’re the sheriff of Birchwood Springs, not some rogue federal agent. You’re going to get her killed if you keep pressing.”

Well, yeah. There’s always that risk. Assignment hazard. Just another clause in the NDA fine print. I was hoping to make it out of this town in one piece. Maybe even with a heart that’s not completely fucked.

Mal doesn’t back down. “Can you at least tell me why you’re hiding this John Doe?”

Atlas adds, “At least confirm it’s Keir because it’s fucking with us that we can’t find him.”

Mal’s gaze snaps to mine. “Is it?”

It takes me a second to realize that their worry is genuine. This would be a great time to tell them the truth because honestly, I’m so tired of lying. But telling the truth doesn’t feel any better.

“I’m supposed to keep him away from you,” I say. “Hidden until they figure out why he was zipped up and left for dead in the trunk of a car.”

Mal narrows his gaze. It’s as if he doesn’t believe me, as if there’s something that doesn’t fit in my story, and then he punches me in the gut with his words. “You’re just keeping him because you still love him, don’t you?”