“Good different or bad different?”
She considered that seriously, the way she considered everything. “Good.” Her mouth curved. “You’re funnier than I expected.”
“I’m not funny.”
“You’re very funny. You just don’t perform it.” She tilted her head. “It’s the delivery. Completely straight face. You said the thing about sight lines like you were filing a report.”
“I was clarifying the situation.”
“See.” She pointed at me. “That.”
I looked at her across the table. Four years of watching her hold herself carefully and professionally, and now she waspointing at me over a candle and laughing. It was the best thing I’d seen in years.
We ordered. We ate. She told me about her first year in grad school, the supervisor who’d told her she was too emotionally present to be a good therapist. She mentioned, in passing, her own seven years in therapy.
“Seven years,” I said.
“You don’t usually end up in this work by accident.” She shrugged, without self-consciousness. “Most of the good ones I know were patients first. I was no exception.”
I watched her say it — easy, direct, no hedge around it. Most people would have made it into a confession. She just put it on the table like a fact.
I’d been halfway in love with her for years. That night I went the rest of the way.
Chapter 6
?
— Holden —
Run day dawned cold and gray, the sky heavy with clouds. I’d checked the forecast three times before bed. Clear skies, mild temps, perfect riding conditions — none of which matched what I was looking at now.
“Weather holding?” Dutch appeared beside me in the clubhouse parking lot, coffee in hand, his eyes scanning the clouds the same way mine were.
“Should be. Front’s moving east. We might catch some drizzle around noon, but nothing serious.” I’d already adjusted the route in my head, accounting for wet roads if it came to that. Slower speeds through the mountain curves, longer following distance, extra caution at intersections.
The brothers were gathering, checking their bikes, making last-minute adjustments. Colt was already mounted up, his face set in that focused expression he got before a run. Handful was cracking jokes with Glitch, trying to lighten the tension that always hung in the air before a big operation.
And Danny—
Danny was practically vibrating with excitement.
He stood next to his Sportster, helmet in hand, grinning like Christmas had come early. When he saw me looking, he straightened up and tried to look serious, but the effect was ruined by the way his eyes kept darting around, taking everything in.
“You ready?” I asked, walking over to him.
“Born ready.” He patted his bike like it was a loyal dog. “I’ve been over the route a hundred times. I know every checkpoint, every fallback point, every—”
“That’s good. But Danny?” I waited until he met my eyes. “Today isn’t about proving yourself. It’s about following orders and staying alive. You understand?”
Some of the bravado faded from his expression. “Yes, sir.”
“Stay behind me. Keep your eyes open. If anything feels wrong, you signal immediately.” I gripped his shoulder. “We ride together, we come home together. That’s the only goal.”
He nodded, suddenly looking every one of his nineteen years. “I won’t let you down, Holden.”
“I know you won’t.”
Dutch called the brothers together for a final briefing. I ran through the route one more time—primary path, secondary options, emergency protocols. Everyone knew their positions, their responsibilities, their fallback plans.
