“Long night?”
Slumped at my kitchen table, a cup of coffee clutched in one fist and my other hand over my eyes, I looked through my fingers at the source of the voice. Tristan was impeccably dressed as always, though he started to take off his suit jacket after he dropped his keys on the counter.
“Don’t make me regret giving you a key,” I mumbled, then gulped down a mouthful of coffee. It was my second cup and I still felt like death warmed over.
“Promises, promises.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and squeezed me gently. I winced. He noticed, drawing back immediately, his brows shooting up. “What happened?”
“I took down five of them last night,” I said, slowly setting down my mug. “That was after I stopped them from breaking into the WestCorp facility. You’re welcome, by the way.”
“Thank you,” he said, plucking his favorite mug from the tree on my counter. “I did see that on the news.”
I winced. “Please tell me—”
“I emailed you the footage this morning. You might want to watch it.”
“I just dragged myself out of bed an hour ago,” I told him. The only thing I’d done other than make coffee was put ice on a sore shoulder. I hadn’t even checked my phone yet for messages—text, email, voicemail, or missed calls. If I actually had, I didn’t remember doing it.
Autopilot is a hell of a thing sometimes.
Tristan nodded, pouring himself a cup of coffee before he sat down next to me at the table. “Did you find anything?”
“No,” I said, trying to swallow the bitterness that rose with the admission. Tristan was the only one who knew anything about how and why Austin had vanished—he was the only one I’d told. Austin would never forgive me if I’d tried to find him—to save him—completely on my own. Tristan was the only one I could go to with everything and know that he’d do whatever it took to help me—short of picking up a wand again.
That was the one step both of us knew he’d never take, which also meant he was the only safe choice to help.
He understood what was at stake, what we were fighting, but he’d let me do it my way, wouldn’t get in the way, but would try to fill the role Austin always had for all of us.
He’d try to keep me as safe and sane as he could when I wasn’t in the middle of a fight. That was what my brother had always done and what my adopted brother did now. He loved Austin as much as I did and in all the same ways. He wasn’t going to stop me.
Tristan would be there to support me every step of the way.
He stared off into nothing, long fingers tightening around his coffee cup so much that his knuckles went white. I reached over and took one of his hands, squeezing gently.
“I didn’t really expect to find anything.”
He glanced at me with a wry smile. “You’re a terrible liar,” he murmured.
I smiled back, squeezing his fingers again before releasing them. “And we both know it. Shattering your favorite cup’s not going to change last night, though.” I leaned back in my chair, exhaling and scrubbing my free hand over my face. “So how bad is this footage I need to watch?”
“Do any of the others know what you’re doing?”
It felt like a change of subject but somehow I knew it wasn’t—my gut screamed that there was a reason for his question and all the reasons that ran rampant through my thoughts terrified me. “No,” I said. “You’re the only one I’ve told.”
“Well, if they saw last night’s news, they’ll know that you’re doing something now.”
I winced. Great. Just what I need. “It was bound to happen sometime,” I said, trying to pretend it didn’t bother me.
As usual, Tristan saw right through me. “You’ve managed to keep this all on the down-low for six months, Autumn. What made last night different?”
I swallowed against a sudden lump in my throat. I wanted to lie. I wanted to tell him it was because I’d seen the bads heading toward the WestCorp facility that had been one of their targets. That wasn’t the whole truth, though—not even half of it.
“You didn’t tell me Garrett was working for you now,” I said in a bare whisper. “Does he even know who you are?”
Tristan shook his head. “No. We buried that secret too deep. He doesn’t have a clue.” This time he took my hand and held it gently. “Only people breathing that know other than my doctors and my therapist are you and Aust. No one at the company has a damn clue—or if they do, they’ve got the grace to keep their mouths shut about it.”
There was still the old pain in his voice, though, traces that I only rarely heard now. He’d built WestCorp after his transition and there was no reason for anyone to suspect he was anything other than what he appeared to be, but the fear was always there. I’d always wished I could take that fear away, but it was simple reality.
It would always be there, even though the world was a lot different now than it had been when we were teenagers.
But as far as the world was concerned, Jenna Pierce had died eleven years ago. Tristan tried hard to keep her buried. The fact that Austin and I were the only family he had left—blood or otherwise—helped in that.
Still, I knew it could be hard.
Tristan cleared his throat. “Is that why? Was he there?”
“They homed in on him as he was leaving,” I said, fighting to keep my voice steady. “I couldn’t let them hurt him. Not again.”
Tristan’s hand tightened around mine. “You weren’t responsible for what happened to him back then, Autumn.”
Then why does it still feel like I was? My lips thinned. “No,” I said, the word tasting like ashes. “But I couldn’t save him then. I was going to make damned sure I didn’t fail this time.”
“Did he see you?”
“No,” I said. “No, I don’t think so. But like you said, if he saw the news, he’ll know.”
“Which means you could be in more danger.”
“So could he.” I chewed my lip and gulped down the rest of the coffee in my mug. I stood, chair scraping across the tile floor, heading for the coffeemaker. “We could all be quite exquisitely fucked right now, Trist, and we wouldn’t even realize it yet.”
“You think they know who the others are?”
“I know they know who I am,” I said. “Them taking Austin wasn’t an accident, Trist, and my being here for it wasn’t an accident. They were hoping I’d do something in front of them and prove what they already knew. The only thing that saved me is that I’m not the hot-head I used to be. I had to be. It wasn’t just my life at stake.”
“You’re right,” he agreed softly. “But that doesn’t make what you’re doing now any less dangerous.”
“Fully aware of that,” I said, refilling my cup. Tristan watched me, his expression caught somewhere between sad and concerned. He wore the look beautifully, his fine features and high cheekbones perfectly suited for that sort of emotion—like a sweet and sad angel looking down on mankind.
An angel of mercy to be certain.
“You still love him.”
I flinched, turning my back to him as I squeezed my eyes shut. “Of course I still love him,” I rasped. “He owns part of my soul.”
And I own part of his, not that he’ll let me close enough to remind him.
He’d never forgiven himself for what he’d done. I’d never forgiven myself for failing him.
Fear had turned him bitter, not that I could blame him for it.
I still had the scars that were a testament to that.
I took a breath and turned back toward Tristan a few seconds later, when I was sure that I wasn’t about to cry. “But that doesn’t matter. We can’t be together. He’s made that abundantly clear.”
Tristan’s lips thinned, but he nodded. “We’re stepping up security on that facility. I’ll make sure he’s safe, Autumn. My word of honor.”
“Thank you,” I said, relief making my knees week and helping to alleviate the dread that had been pooling in my stomach ever since I’d caught a glimpse of Garrett at that WestCorp facility the previous evening. He’d been heading in with a couple of other staff members while most of their shift was leaving. I didn’t know why, nor did I care. None of it had mattered. Just that he was there and was in danger.
It had been like being sucker-punched in the gut.
“Can you do me a favor?” I asked Tristan in a whisper, clutching my coffee in both hands.
He arched a brow at me and nodded slightly. “Sure. What is it?”
“Make sure he’s happy,” I breathed. “Please. That’s all I need to know.”
After the barest hesitation, Tristan nodded. “Of course.”
Everything that had happened to Garrett was my fault. I just wanted to make sure that he’d found at way to overcome at least some of it and be okay.
That guilt, more than anything, had weighed on me for twelve years since the team had hung it up and gone our separate ways in the weeks approaching high school graduation.
Tristan abandoned his coffee and came to hug me from the side, as if he’d somehow known I needed it. I clutched at the arm he wrapped around the front of me, my other hand still grasping my mug. I leaned my head toward his as he rested his chin on my shoulder.
“You’re the best,” I told him quietly. One corner of his mouth lifted into a smile.
“Always was. And I’d always do anything for my sister from another mister.”
I smiled even though the welter of emotions storming inside me really made me want to cry. “Love you, Trist.”
“Right back at you.” He kissed my cheek and held me for a few seconds more, letting me master my emotions before he spoke again. It took a few minutes, but I squeezed his arm to signal that I’d be okay. At that point, his arms loosened and he straightened slightly, looking at me.
“You know,” he said. “I didn’t just come over here to give you a hard time and warn you about that video.”
“Oh?” We started back to the table. I envied the grace he possessed as he slid back into his chair. I just dropped into mine like a bag of rocks. “Then to what do I owe the honor of this visit?”
“I have a date tonight.”
Blinking, I stared at him for a second. “But you don’t date.”
“Not in five years, no,” he agreed. “But a particularly beautiful boy asked me if I’d like to have dinner and it was hard to say no. So I have a date tonight and we’re going to Maricopa and I am in desperate need of your assistance.”
“You do not need my help with that,” I told him, my gaze raking over his attire. Not a strand of his chestnut hair was out of place, every accessory matching, his clothing timeless and effortlessly perfect, cradling every inch of his body in just the right way—to devastating effect that I’d witnessed on more than one occasion when he’d dragged me along as his escort to some soiree or another to protect him from other people.
He smiled ruefully. “Fine. I need your moral support and your abilities as a chaperone and rescuer. Please come have dinner at Maricopa tonight while I’m on my date and be my out if it turns into a complete disaster.”
“Okay. But I doubt it’ll be a disaster.”
Tristan laughed. “Oh ye of little faith.”
“Right back at you.” I smiled wryly and shoulder-checked him gently. He laughed and returned the gesture.
After a moment, we both sobered, falling silent at my kitchen table.
“What do you think they’re planning?” he finally asked.
“Not sure yet,” I said. “I’m going to sift through Austin’s files again today. There’s got to be something I missed, something he hadn’t gotten to tell me.” There has to be some kind of clue.
“I can help,” Tristan said quietly.
“No,” I said. “No, Tristan, you’ve got stuff to do. You were able to walk away from this and build a life—build a whole fucking company. You don’t have to stay here and help. Knowing that you’ve got my back is all the help I need.”
“I hate watching you hurt like this,” he said. “You know that, right?”
I nodded. “And you hate being powerless.”
“That, too.” He took a deep breath. “How about a compromise? You go through Austin’s files again and I’ll dig through some other data at WestCorp and see if anything feels wrong. We can compare notes later. Sound good?”
“Sounds great,” I said. “What time’s your date?”
“Seven,” he said. “We’re meeting at the restaurant. I’ll make a reservation for you, too. You want to sit at the bar?”
“That’s fine.” I kissed his cheek. “I’ll be there.”
“Better be.”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
Tristan stood, draining his mug. “Watch the footage I sent you.”
“I will.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
He nodded, then wrapped an arm around my shoulders in another hug from behind and dropped a kiss on the top of my head.
Leaving his mug in the sink, he shrugged back into his suit jacket. “Be careful if you go out today.”
“Always.”
Then he was gone, leaving me alone in the apartment that I’d shared with my brother for almost twelve years. It felt so empty without him, but I was starting to get used to the ache of his absence.
Still, it was something I didn’t want to get too used to—not by a long shot.
Sighing, I took my coffee with me to go watch the footage Tristan had sent, hoping against hope it wasn’t as bad as he’d made it sound.
Gods know that I’d never been that lucky.
