“What do I do with you?”
The question sounded completely genuine, like even Grayson didn’t know. Their eyes met again.
“You have to do something with me,” said Reece. “I don’t ever want to become—well. You know.”
“I do.”
Reece looked at the card in his hand again. “Can this team help?”
“That’s why I formed it. One of the reasons, at least.” Grayson nodded at the card. “Call that number. They’ll help you get new gloves, get you on a check-in schedule, all of it.” He cleared his throat. “And if you need more incentive, they already got your car back. Kind of a shame; I was gonna replace it.”
Reece snorted. His gaze stayed on the card. “And if they ever suspect I’m slipping, will they call you in so you can stop me?”
“Yeah,” Grayson said quietly. “They will.”
Reece blew out a breath. “Good.”
“Andthey’ll call me in if they think you’re a target.” Grayson added dryly, “I know you forgot that part because you’re only thinking of the danger to other people, but I didn’t.”
Reece glanced up, and no, absolutely nothing about Grayson made him want to look away anymore. He waved the card. “So this is like a hotline, then?”
“Someone’ll answer, no matter what time you call.”
“But it’s not your number?”
“No.”
“Oh.”
Grayson tilted his head. “I’m no expert on feelings, but that sounded like disappointment. And I gotta be honest, I don’t know why you’d be disappointed to hear that.”
Reece tried to shrug. “It’d just be nice to know I could call you. Just—you know. If I ever needed to.”
But then, Grayson had said it himself: they weren’t friends.
But maybe they weren’t enemies, and maybe that was enough.
Grayson eyed him for another moment, then nodded in Jamey’s direction. “She’ll want to see you.”
Reece hopped from the tailgate to the ground, eager to confirm for himself that Jamey had made it. But he looked back at Grayson, standing by his truck in the sweatshirt that didn’t fit.
Alone.
Reece wrapped his arms around himself. “What about you?”
“I have business waiting on me,” said Grayson, all mysterious like he thought he was.
“What kind of business?”
“The kind I wouldn’t tell an empath about.”
“I hate your riddles.”Lie. Huh. Reece had so many words fighting for space, but what came out was, “You, um. You probably want your hoodie back.”
Grayson didn’t answer that, instead pointing over Reece’s head. “Go see your sister.”
Reece turned to see the lift reaching eye level, heard the cheer rising through the waiting officers like a rolling beat on a kettledrum.
He sprinted forward, a couple officers catching sight of him and clearing a path through just as the lift touched ground. “Jamey!”
