When the others drift off, giving us a moment, I ask, “Are you okay?”
“A few scratches and bruises, but I’m good.” She hesitates. “What was that about?”
I unlock the phone and open the message already waiting—sent from an encrypted line. “I had Katherine do some digging with the Bureau’s Financial Crimes division. They found the original transfer from your mom’s account when she transferred your father’s settlement money to Celeste Harlowe.”
Cybil’s eyes widen.
“Athena helped, but they’ve found her. It’s all there.”
I hand her the phone. Her fingers tremble just slightly as she scrolls, scanning through the details, absorbing the information.
She looks up. Her voice is soft but sure. “She’s here. In Dallas.”
“Katherine already spoke with the DA. You’re not just closing one case today, Cybil.” I pause. “You’re opening the next.”
Her gaze meets mine. There’s something electric behind it—relief and fire and purpose all tangled into one perfect storm. The wind catches a strand of her hair and brushes it across her cheek. I reach up, gently tuck it behind her ear.
“I meant what I said,” I murmur. “Back at the ranch. About you.”
Her expression falters slightly—just enough for me to see the walls she always keeps up start to lower.
“You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met, Billy. Not because youdon’t get scared. But because you do—and you still show up anyway. For everyone else. For the truth. For justice. Even when no one’s fighting for you.”
She doesn’t speak, but her eyes shine—like maybe she’s letting herself believe it.
“But it’s my turn. To show up for you. To fight for you. To be your backup. Your partner. Your target practice who’s still trying to figure out how to do the right things at the right time.”
A long beat stretches between us. She doesn’t pull her hand away.
“I know chasing down Celeste Harlowe isn’t going to be easy. It might get messy. You might want to shoot me again.” She smiles and my heart flips. “But if you want to go after her”—I reach for her hand, my voice quiet but certain—“then I’m with you. Every step of the way. If you want that.”
Something flickers behind her eyes—something raw and unguarded. “I spent a long time believing my life was too messy to share with someone. That I didn’t deserve anything good unless I had my life together.” She pauses, eyes searching mine like she’s still not sure how I got past her defenses. “But you, you saw the cracks. Even as a kid, my mess never seemed to scare you. You oddly seemed to enjoy getting messy with me.” She gives me a smile. “I want that. I want someone who runs toward the fire with me.”
I take a half step closer. Her breath hitches but she doesn’t back away.
The world goes quiet around us—the sirens, the voices, the buzz of activity fading into background noise.
Her hand brushes my arm—barely there. But it’s enough to anchor me.
She looks up, and I see it all in her eyes—the weight she’s carried, the lies she’s outlived, the hope she’s still scared to hold. I see the fire, the fight, and, for the first time, a sliver of peace trying to break through.
Neither of us speaks.
She leans in, eyes flicking to my lips, then back to my eyes—as if asking permission or maybe daring me to cross the space between us.
So I do.
I kiss her.
Just once. Just long enough to taste the adrenaline still humming through her, to feel the way her breath stutters against mine, to know this isn’t a maybe anymore. It’s a beginning—raw and real and entirely ours.
Her hand curls lightly around the collar of my shirt, fingers tightening like she’s afraid the moment might slip away if she lets go. Like maybe she’s holding on not because she needs me to steady her, but because—for the first time—she doesn’t want to stand alone. And I won’t let her.
Then—of course—my phone rings.
Cybil pulls back just enough to breathe, her forehead brushing mine, lips barely a breath away. “Are you going to answer that?”
“Do I have to?” My hand stays at her waist, unwilling to let the warmth of her go just yet. Her cheeks are flushed, her breathing shallow, and all I want is to chase that kiss a little longer.
