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Three months later…
“Honey, I’m home!” Griffin called as he entered the house. I could hear him stomping snow off of his boots as the door closed. “Where are you?”
“In the kitchen!” I yelled back. “Where the hell have you been? Dinner’s almost ready.”
We’d been settling into our new home in fairly domesticated bliss. About a month after moving in, we’d had a simple wedding ceremony, because I’d wanted to be married to him more than just on paper through witness protection, and it had been perfect. Neither of us had family outside each other anyway, so it didn’t make sense to try to make a big deal out of it.
I’d been worried that jumping straight into marriage with him would be difficult, but honestly…it was the happiest I could ever remember being. Griffin often reminded me that we’d actually known each other for years. And that talking on the phone generally led to deeper conversations than we might have had if we’d met face to face sooner.
Witness protection wasn’t all wine and roses, but we were managing. The neighborhood was full of other law enforcement families that had been relocated for protection, too. So making friends had been easier than I’d anticipated.
I walked into the hall, wiping my hands on a dishtowel and froze, staring at my husband who was still standing by the door, a small ball of fur nestled in his hands.
“What is that?” I demanded.
“It’s your cat,” he explained, grinning at me. “Merry Christmas.”
“You’re allergic to cats,” I reminded him, throwing the towel over my shoulder as I walked over to him and scooped the kitten out of his arms.
“Well, that’s an Ocicat,” he said, pulling off his coat and hanging it on the hook by the door. “It’s hypoallergenic. And, just to be safe, I scheduled an appointment for an allergy shot as well.”
“I can’t believe you did this,” I admitted, snuggling the purring cat to my face.
“Why not?” he asked, his brow furrowing. “I got you the house and the fence.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “You did.”
“And,” he said slowly, giving me the sheepish grin he always gave me when he was about to deliver news he knew I wasn’t going to like. “I thought it might help you forgive me.”
“Oh jeez,” I said, motioning for him to follow me back into the kitchen. “What did you do now?”
“It’s not what I did now,” he admitted.
He fell silent as he bustled around the room, pulling bowls from the cupboard and filling one with water, then dumping cat food from the small bag I hadn’t noticed in his hands. He set them on the floor, but I wasn’t ready to let the kitten go just yet.
“Spill it,” I said.
“It’s good news,” he insisted. “Look, let me apologize first, okay? Please believe that I did what I did because I had to. And I couldn’t tell you the truth until I knew everything was in place and he was safe.”
“What in the fuck are you talking about?” I growled. I set the kitten down in front of its food then turned to pull the roast out of the oven before it burned. “You know I hate when you do this. I don’t need dramatic effect.”
“I’m not stalling for drama,” he said. “I just know you’re going to be really, really pissed at me.”
“Well, I’m already halfway there,” I snapped, turning back to face him. “What, Griffin?”
“When you woke up in the hospital, one of the first things you asked me was about Kenny, do you remember that?”
“Of course I remember,” I said, my lips turning downward as the familiar pain of losing my best friend welled up in my chest. “You said he was dead.”
“I said he was gone,” he corrected me. “And I had to let you believe that he was dead, because I knew that if you didn’t think that, I’d never keep you out of Detroit.”
I stared at him, not quite sure I understood what he was saying to me.
“He didn’t die, Matt.” Griffin took a step toward me but froze with plenty of distance still between us. “It was touch and go for him for a while. They kept him in a medical coma so he could detox. Then we sent him to a rehab facility in Dallas.”
“He’s alive?” I said, rocking backward and leaning against the counter to keep myself upright. “All this time you let me think I’d lost him.”
“If I’d told you he was in a coma, would you have stayed here with me? Or would you have hopped the first flight back to Detroit, consequences be damned?” Griffin was visibly struggling to keep his posture neutral. I knew from experience that he was fighting the urge to cross his arms and get defensive. “It was for Kenny’s safety as well, Matt.”
