Page 105 of The Sound of Him

They’re asking to get themselves fucking killed.

And nothing is under control anymore.

Nothing at all.

“I mean, I’ll just call my handler and ask him to send the request up the chain,” Maison says, feigning casualness as if making such a monumental request is no big deal. As if this isn’t the kind of request Kellan would kill someone over.

Except he doesn’t know about Kellan, or how easily Kellan finds it to order someone’s death, or how overprotective he is of the organization - not because of the organization itself, but because of Keaton’s part of it. Maybe even because I’m a part of it, too.

Which means if this is going to have any hope of happening, it needs to be me who makes this call. “Your handler got cycled out now that the operation is officially over. I have a guy, though. I’ll give him a call.”

His eyes light up. “Yeah? Awesome, man. That’s - thank you.”

“It’s no problem.”

He gives me a look like he doesn’t believe that, but also like he’ll indulge me in pretending. Which is fine.

Except, he’s reaching for the box of Fruit Loops, which aren’t for him, and then he’s leaning back on the couch. Getting comfortable. Clearly planning to stay.

I can’t make this call if he stays.

Why did I not think about the possibility that he’d want to stay?

“Um,” I manage to say, like an idiot. He raises an eyebrow at me.A task. I need a task. I have so many fucking tasks. What can I give him? What can I - oh fuck it.I stand up abruptly, my desk chair rolling a little too far and hitting the cabinet. “Feel free to hang out. Eat. Whatever. Don’t touch my fucking licorice. I need to run a quick errand.”

He sits up straighter. “But… the call?”

“I’m pretty good at multi-tasking, I’ll have you know. I’ve got it handled. You focus on getting the stuff for their kits ready, yeah?” I glance at my main screen, making sure I’m signed intothe right profile still, then grab my coat from where it’s draped over my corner bookcase. “Need anything while I’m out?”

“Uh.” He seems to consider it before slowly shaking his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Well, call me if you think of anything.” I give him an awkward sort-of-salute thing that I immediately regret -why are you like this, oh my god!- and dart out of there before I can start rambling.

I weave through the house to the discreet exit in the back, entering my code and handprint and waiting to be granted permission to leave as if I’m not the one who built the entire system. It beeps cheerfully.

“Everything good?” Codies asks from his spot tucked behind the overgrown wildflowers that edge the building.

I force a smile -nothing is good, nothing is good at all, I have to sneak away to call my pseudo-father, and I have to pretend to run an errand, which means I need to drive, but I’m also kind of thinking I might fall asleep at the wheel within the next five minutes and that would be bad for any innocent people driving on the road, and also bad for Carter and Casey because it would mean the phone call didn’t happen, but I’m also sort of hoping to fall asleep at the wheel within the next five minutes because this phone call is going to really piss Kellan off, at best, or get some people I love killed, at worst -and wave off his worry.

“Yeah, everything is fine. Sorry for not giving you a heads up. I need to run a quick errand, last minute, nothing to be concerned about. I’m going to check out vehicle 3 - shouldn’t be long.”

“What’s your check-in time?”

Oh jeez.I know it’s not his fault, but I have no fucking idea what time it is right now, and I’m too tired to calculate how long it takes to get to the nearest town where I could possibly havean errand to run, and his safety protocols are really inconvenient right now.

I play it safe. “Check-in by 10 PM. But I’ll be back way before that, trust me.”

He’s already pulling out his phone, likely to log the time into the program that will send out a team-wide alert at 10:01 if it hasn’t been disabled at the sight of my return. Does Kellan see those? Why can’t I remember if Kellan sees those?

Not that it matters.

I have to talk to him either way.

Fuck me.

I keep my head down until I’m in the car, not giving anyone else a chance to stop me.

The radio is set way too loud when the engine kicks on. I turn it down. Then off. The silence pricks a little at my skin.