Page 84 of Restless Hawke

Making everything that happened last night, all that I shared with Allegra into a trivial joke—just another fucking game to her.

I flip the card between my fingers, gritting my jaw so hard that it actually hurts, my brain stuck in a constant loop of feeling like a fucking idiot since the moment I found the card sitting on the nightstand when I woke this morning—to an empty bed where Allegra should have been.

All I found were cold sheets and this even colder note.

It’s not that I really expected her to stay long…

But I hadn’t anticipated her not even saying goodbye.

She just…vanished.

Into thin air.

As if she were merely a figment of my imagination.

The only proof I have that any of it happened was the taste of her on my tongue and the smell of us on my sheets. And this damnnote.

Whatever the fuck it’s supposed to be…

A goodbye.

A fuck you.

A threat.

I slide the card into my back pocket before making my way up the stairs to Mom and Dad’s porch. Bright flowers spill out of the planters, and Mom’s swing sways lightly in the morning breeze.

Peaceful.

Home.

The old Victorian house Dad meticulously renovated will always be that, no matter how long I’ve lived on my own. No matter how far away I travel, chasing a game or seeking an escape. No matter how restless I may get staying here for too long, this place is where I’ll return.

Always.

I punch the access code into the electronic lock and push the door open. “Mom? Dad?”

Stepping in, I pause and wait for any signs that they’re still here.

Dad is supposed to be “retiring” and limiting his time at the office, but we all know that isn’t really happening, much to Mom’s chagrin. And she shows absolutely no signs of evenconsideringleaving her job at the hospital, so this is about the time of morning they start taking off.

I hope I caught him…

This isn’t a conversation I want to have in front of Isaac at the office.

Mom pokes her head out from the kitchen at the back of the house. “Coen, what are you doing here?”

I close the door behind me and approach as she sets down her coffee mug on the counter. “I needed to talk to Dad.”

Her eyes narrow, the green flashing with immediate concern. Is everything okay?”

No, not at all.

Nothing has been okay for a very long time.

And I don’t even have the guts to go to Uncle Savage and Gabe and tell them about my unexpected visit from Satriano.

I’ll let Dad do the dirty work.