Page 19

T he dreams didn’t linger once Morgan was fully awake.

That was the worst part—no pieces left to carry. No splinters to examine. Nothing to trace back to meaning.

All he was left with was the hollow certainty that something inside him had broken again—deep and wordless—and the sound of wet footsteps slapping down the hall.

Wet.

Bare.

Footsteps.

Irregular, loud little ovals smeared across tile and rug like the afterthought of a creature who’d never once considered the consequences of walking around dripping.

He dropped a second towel onto the floor.

Someone had to keep things civilized .

The television flicked on from the other room, tuned to the morning news. Static hum. But Lex’s voice—predictably—cut through the noise.

“Hey! Hey, Morgan! It’s Pete!”

Morgan didn’t move. Just stared at the razor blade he’d left beside the sink.

Waiting.

There was always more.

“I mean…” Lex paused, then laughed. “They don’t know his name yet. But that’s the same trailhead, and I recognize his shoes. They look even worse on camera.”

Morgan craned his head out of the bathroom. A grainy news image of yellow and white police tape stretched across the overlook filled the screen. Some intern with a camera was panning too fast, catching more glare than detail.

He rubbed his temples, feeling the pressure of Lex’s excitement bubbling beside him.

Of course Lex would treat murder like morning cartoons. Why wouldn’t he?

This was still too early, and he had too much to do before they left.

Morgan rinsed the razor, watching the remnants of shaving cream vanish down the drain. He reached for the straightener—

Lex wriggled into the bathroom and dropped onto the toilet seat. Already dressed for the day. His fingers drummed on his thighs—fast, arrhythmic, impatient.

“ Come on ,” he whined, “don’t pretend it’s not like, a little cool. Eternal glory. Bodies in another country. All that good shit. ”

“More like an eternal headache,” Morgan muttered. “I’ve kept my name out of everyone’s mouth for this long. I don’t plan on backpedaling here.”

He picked up the flat iron, starting at the top section.

The way he did every morning. The way he’d done for years.

Lex leaned in, the back of his hand smacking Morgan’s towel. “You know, it actually looks better kinda wavy.”

“Like your bird’s nest?” Morgan asked without glancing over.

Lex snorted. “I’m serious! You look like you’re going for worlds most boring businessman. ”

Morgan flicked his eyes to Lex in the mirror. Raised an eyebrow.

“And you look like you sleep in a dumpster. We have different standards.”

Lex barked out a laugh, the kind that bounced off tile and glass and turned the room too full.

The flush blooming under all that tan was familiar. Expected in a way he didn’t mind.

“Okay. Okay .” Lex held up his hands in mock surrender. “That was a good one. I’ll give it to you.”

“Go feed your cat, Lex.”

“Why? So you can stand here and bitch about my hair in peace?” Lex kicked his foot against the cabinet beneath the sink. “I’m gonna shave it. Then what?”

Morgan didn’t reply. Just set the straightener down, slid his fingers through the front of his hair to check he hadn’t missed a spot.

Was this what his life had come to?

Mundane conversations. Petty arguments .

They worked together. Lived together. Killed together.

And once Lex incorporated himself into Morgan’s morning routine, peace became a theory. Something that existed only in the seconds before dawn. A concept with no proof of life.

Morgan hadn’t set an alarm in weeks. He didn’t need to.

Lex would always yank the covers off him the same time every morning.

A one-man storm in boxers he hadn’t asked permission to borrow. They never fit right; tight on the hips, billowing around his legs.

Even if this morning had started differently, the end-point was always the same.

And somehow, Morgan no longer minded.

Not when silence had become something else entirely—no longer safety.

Now it sounded too much like absence.

It was dangerous, how easily Lex filled in the spaces Morgan didn’t know he’d left empty.

More dangerous still, how quickly Morgan had stopped caring.

He picked up the straightener. Moved on to the next section.

Morgan didn’t speak again until they were out the door, Lex swaying back and forth beside him, knocking into his shoulder every few steps.

The street was wet—leftover rain or a new hire, watering the hotel’s flowers within an inch of its life.

Either way, it soaked the hem of Lex’s pants within a block. He didn’t complain.

“I promised you coffee,” Morgan said.

“You did?” Lex glanced over.

Paused.

Then—

“You do owe me coffee! Hell yes. Good start to the day.”

Ten blocks from the hotel, but the walk was always welcome. Especially when it was still early enough that most people remained asleep, tucked into bed.

No crowds. No honking of messy traffic.

Peace. Calm.

With Lex’s fingers grazing against his like they wanted to hold on.

The shop was a narrow place tucked between a defunct apothecary and a florist that smelled like spoiled roses.

Morgan had found the place a few days ago.

Sparse lighting. Industrial shelves lined with a mix of imported and local beans.

A clear case with cheese danish and breakfast rolls. Not a hint of charm in sight.

It didn’t invite lingering. It asked you to order, consume your selection of items, and leave.

Perfection.

Morgan ordered for both of them. The barista didn’t bother smiling—another reason he liked it here. No fake customer service voice. No expectation of conversation.

He took the corner booth and Lex followed .

“You know,” Lex said, opening the to-go cup and blowing on the steam. “When I die, I don’t want a coffin. I wanna be buried in a pastry case.”

Morgan was halfway through dumping the second packet of sugar in. His hand stilled.

That qualified as one of the strangest things to ever come out of Lex’s mouth.

Why would anyone want to be buried in something like that?

“Why?” Morgan asked, out loud.

“It’d be fun.” Lex took a drink. Slapped the table between them. “Oh! Oh, you know the… uh… the sushi restaurants where they serve it on naked people? Put cupcakes on my corpse.”

He didn’t, but it sounded like a plausible idea someone might have come up within the past ten years.

The cupcakes… not so much.

Chuckling, Morgan shook his head.

“Alright, Lex.”

“Anything that isn’t your dad’s wake would be better. Depressing is one thing, but it was like— claustrophobic. I want mine to be on an RSVP basis. Like. a bidding war. Seats start at two hundred bucks. No. I’m worth more. Make it a thousand.”

Morgan pulled apart the cheese danish and Lex stole half.

“Why are you assuming you’ll die first?” Morgan asked as he chewed. “More than likely, it’ll be me.”

“Because if you die first, then everyone’s fucked. I’d off myself. Same room, same place. Everyone gets a dose of trauma.”

Morgan sipped his coffee. Slow.

Watched Lex tear the breakfast roll apart. Two halves. Then quarters. Then eighths.

Sixteenths.

Twenty-four.

Something crawled down his spine.

The number hung there, sticky. Familiar.

He slammed the cup down. Coffee sloshed over the side, onto his hand and the table.

Lex was already up, grabbing napkins and rambling, before Morgan had a chance to realize he should’ve reacted.

“ Jesus Christ , Morgan,” Lex mumbled. He shoved a stack of napkins onto the mess on the table and grabbed Morgan’s hand. “Don’t break the poor cup. Are you still half-asleep or what?”

No. He was quite awake.

Awake and unnerved.

Morgan took his hand back, wiping down the front and back. The skin was red now, but not puffy. Not raised. He hadn’t burned himself too badly. Something minor that would fade in an hour or so.

“You’re not dying anytime soon,” he said flatly. “You’ll have to wait on the bakery display.”

Lex didn’t say anything. He simply stood there, hands pressed into the table, staring down at Morgan. Mouth hanging slightly open. Eyes slitted.

After a moment, he blew air through his lips.

“I was kidding . God, you’re so dramatic sometimes.”

Maybe.

Or maybe part of his subconscious knew something he didn’t.

Gabriel’s voice carried through the conference room like a slow bleed.

“—I’ve started preparing my team for the transition,” he said, smoothing down the lapels of his blazer. “But I still believe there are redundancies worth salvaging. We’ve trained our developers to be efficient across markets, not just the U.K.”

Morgan nodded. “We’ll make a full assessment by the end of the week. I’ll take it into consideration, but the final decision isn’t yours anymore.”

Gabriel didn’t argue. He just tightened his mouth into that thin line he wore when pretending to be complacent. He looked like a man who knew he was losing a war but refused to stop polishing his armor.

It didn’t matter.

Dying on the battlefield or crawling away to die in private had the same outcome.

Lex hadn’t said more than three words since they came up the elevator—and none of them were about Ollie. That was always the first sign something was wrong. The second was the way he was vibrating under the surface now, fidgeting with papers they hadn’t touched in days.

Morgan took note of it. Not just the movement, but the sharpness of it.

Too much chaos behind those blue eyes .

Gabriel wrapped up the last slide and clicked the laptop shut.

“If you’re both happy, I’ll forward all the information before the end of business.”

Morgan stood first. “I’ll check for the email.”

Lex’s smile had the edge of a cracked mask—too wide, too fast, nothing behind it but teeth. Tension radiating off him in waves.

In the elevator, he finally exploded.

“He freaks me the fuck out.”

Morgan loosened his tie. “Who?”

“Gabriel.” Lex leaned against the back wall of the elevator, one leg kicked out, the other tapping like he wasn’t allowed to stop moving. “I said his name four times yesterday and he didn’t blink . Four times— four times ! He stared right through me .”

“You do that too, Lex. You get lost in work and it’s a challenge to drag you back to reality.”

“Not—not like that, Morgan. It’s different.”

Morgan didn’t disagree. He just stared ahead at the chrome doors and let Lex wear out some of the energy.

“He looks like Steve, too. Which is even freakier.”

“Barry?” Morgan asked. “I don’t think so.”

“He’s got the same like, patchy stubble and eyes. And nose.”

“You’re looking for problems where there are none.”

“I’m serious , Morgan. Something’s off about him.”

Morgan sighed. “And now you sound paranoid.”

Lex leaned forward, dropping his voice. “What if he’s connected?”

“Connected to Steve? He’s not.”

“Not—not to Steve. Keep up. Kate’s someone. The one she said was already looking for O—our cat .”

Morgan narrowed his eyes.

He’d warned Lex.

Told Lex that the Sterlings weren’t a family he wanted to cross.

Did Lex care then? Did he show a shred of concern when Kate called?

Of course not.

It happened later.

The elevator chimed, but neither of them moved when the doors opened. Morgan waited until it closed again.

“We’ve had this account long before this mess started. The deal started going through three months ago. This has nothing to do with Kate. Gabriel had been badgering us to fly out for weeks.”

“I know,” Lex said. Too fast.

“But you don’t believe it. Why.”

Lex didn’t reply. He picked at a loose thread on his jacket, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

Morgan stepped closer, placing both hands on Lex’s shoulders.

“Breathe,” he said quietly. “You’re smarter than this.”

Lex met his gaze, throat bobbing.

“You’re not thinking straight,” Morgan continued. “Stop. Reassess. We plan . We don’t react .”

“But what if—”

“Stop.”

Lex gave a small, jerky nod .

Morgan’s grip eased. His thumbs smoothed once over the slope of Lex’s shoulders, brushing the tension down without drawing attention to it.

“We’re here to do our job. That’s it. No one is watching us.”

Lex finally exhaled, long and shaky. His foot stopped tapping. For now.

Morgan let the moment settle before hitting the button for the garage.

“Can we go somewhere?” Lex asked. “I have a place in mind.”

Morgan didn’t ask where they were going.

He didn’t need to.

Let Lex feel like he was leading, if it helped him crawl out of his own head.