Page 83 of His Wall

"Harlow."

"Calder. Sleep on it. Talk soon."

She hung up.

I sat with the phone in my hand.

I picked up my personal phone from the cushion beside me and walked into the kitchen. Julian moved out of the way. I dialed.

Torres picked up on the first ring.

"Leah."

"Don't come."

"Leah."

"Rafael. I am asking you not to come."

He was quiet for a second.

"I requested this assignment. When I heard what happened — a shooting, your cover blown, you locked in a safehouse with a civilian target — I went to the field office and put my name in."

"You can pull it back."

"No."

"Why."

A breath on his end.

"Because the last time you were in danger, I was in a hospital bed and could not do anything about it. I am not doing that again."

I hung up.

I stood at the kitchen counter with the phone in my hand, and my eyes wet. I was furious about it. I wiped my face with the back of my hand. I turned around.

Julian was in the doorway.

He had his sandy hair pushed back from his face, and his hazel eyes were on mine.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing. The Bureau's sending backup tomorrow. Someone from the field office."

He watched my face. "Is that a bad thing?"

I did not answer.

"Is it someone you know?"

I did not answer.

I looked at him. I could deflect. I could claim it was operational, but that wouldn't be accurate.

He had told me about Conrad yesterday, the bar in the Village, and the shame he had been carrying alone. He had opened the vault.

I was still holding mine shut.