Page 144 of The Dearly Departed

We had thought it was fitting after we dug through the bin of Halloween decorations and pieces of costumes collected over the years. They matched in ways, but each one different enough that we could tell each other apart.

"We're actually doing this," Shawn muttered beneath his breath, his voice muffled by the fabric laying over his mouth.

"We don't have a choice," I replied, walking past him to lead the way to the door.

And it's my fault.

“We could run away,” he suggested, clearly shaken by the reality of our situation.

I glanced at him. “If we run, they will find us, and we will die. No. We do what we have to do.”

And let me worry about the rest, I wanted to add, but couldn’t. Not here.

They followed me, flanking my sides, and when Dean opened the door, as per usual, he didn’t seem at all surprised that, this time, I hadn’t come alone.

He offered a hesitant smile, and I didn't smile back.

"Good to see you, sir," he said with a hint of reluctance.

"Wish the feeling were mutual," I muttered. "Are you the asshole who blew my cover?"

He narrowed his eyes and tipped his head to the side. "Did you not read your texts?"

I gave my head a subtle shake. Dean's eyes flitted from one side of me to the other, taking in the sight of Shawn, then Ike. He didn’t react at all to their presence, and I knew Gerald must’ve filled him in at some point.

"I didn’t get the chance," I explained. "Both of my phones went missing."

"Of course they did," Dean grumbled with a sigh. Then he leaned in closer, and beneath his breath, he added, "It was B."

B. Benjamin.

Of course it was.

I offered a curt nod, but said nothing more.

“What did he do to you?” I asked, implying whatever punishment he was going to endure.

“Our partnership,” he said, meeting my eyes. Then he shook his head. “Terminated.”

Gerald wasn’t allowing Dean and me to work together anymore, and as I hung my head, I was surprised by the sadness that touched my heart at the news, understanding that our partnership had never started as one. Once upon a time, he had only been sent on missions with me to ensure I was actually getting the job done. But somewhere along the way, we had become friends, and I was going to miss him.

Dean pulled away and turned around.

"Gentlemen," he said in a clearer tone, gesturing into the house.

We filed in, and Dean offered a curt smile and nod before closing the door and saying, "If you'll just follow me."

He led the way up the stairs and toward Gerald's office. All the while, Ike uttered gasps of awe and surprise, marveling at the lavish surroundings. But instead of scolding him for behaving like a fool, I was too busy noticing Gerald's men carrying boxes from farther down the hall and down the stairs.

"What's going on?" I dared to ask Dean in this part of the house, so close to where Gerald could hear loud and clear.

He glanced over his shoulder and looked up with apologetic eyes. "Analise is moving out today," he announced matter-of-factly, his tone a contrast to the sorrowful look on his face. "Her new husband has secured a place for them to live. She’ll be gone tonight."

Tonight. It felt so abrupt, so sudden.

Is this a part of her punishment?

"Where?" I hissed beneath my breath.