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But I sighed and nodded. “Yeah, sure. Monday.”
He finally kissed me then. And all that space I’d been feeling between us disappeared. The need in his lips as they clung to mine reassured me that he still wanted me in his life. His mood was purely because of the missing box, not us.
Less worried when he pulled back, I smiled and touched his cheek. “Don’t get into any trouble without me.”
He snickered. “Trouble’s no fun unless you’re in it with me.”
By Monday, however, he was back to being quiet and withdrawn again. Not even Miguel’s chatter on our way to his school could muster more than a couple indecipherable grunts of acknowledgement from him.
Alone time hadn’t helped shit.
“Hey,” I said, taking in his troubled expression as soon as Miguel was gone. “Talk to me.”
He shot me a short, moody glower. “About what?”
“I don’t know,” I muttered, scowling back. “Anything. Just let me know what’s on your mind right now.”
“What’s on my mind,” he repeated slowly. “Maybe you should ask what’s not on my mind. I mean, fucking hell, where should I start? I can’t help but wonder what’ll happen if the detective doesn’t think this case is worth pursuing and he never gets in touch with Finley. Or what if—miracle of miracles—Finley hasn’t been taken out by the Mexican Mafia yet and authorities actually can question him, but he refuses to divulge his connection to Lana? Or what if he does roll over on Lana, yet they still don’t find enough evidence against her to prosecute her for anything? What if she learns what I’ve been trying to do and goes after Brick to punish me? Or she goes after you?”
He glanced at me, looking tormented. “And here I am, driving you straight to her lair, all the while I’m putting you at risk with my—”
“Hayden,” I said calmly, cutting into his tirade. “Breathe, baby. It’s going to be okay.”
“No, it’s not!” he boomed. “Not until we find something to stop her. Not until—Jesus.” He wiped a hand over his face. “It’s hopeless, isn’t it? I don’t know where else to look. And she’s going to end up destroying us all.”
Since I knew he wouldn’t listen to any words of encouragement from me, I fell quiet, trying to think of something I could do to convince him it wasn’t hopeless. We could still triumph.
But I could see why his will was slipping. He’d had to put up with Lana’s tyranny for too long. For his entire life. The poor, exhausted man needed a break. It was time for a newer, fresher opponent to take up his torch.
My mind started to race with ideas of where I could look for Lana’s new hiding place when I noticed some graffiti spray-painted on the side of an old warehouse we were passing. The infamous artist, Black Crimson, has struck again, and just in time. I kind of needed his spray-painted words of encouragement right now.
And when I read the message, I smiled. It was perfect.
“Look.” I pointed before I quoted the phrase aloud. “When you have exhausted all possibilities, remember this. You haven’t.”
Under the words, a picture of a princess had been painted. She was trying to reach a sleeping knight in a high tower by lassoing the dragon guarding the entrance and throwing a saddle over its back so she could use it as a stepping stone instead of a blockade and ride the beast up to save her lover.
“Thomas Edison,” Hayden murmured on a nod, naming the source of the quote. He slowed the car as we approached Preston Estates, but instead of pulling up to the curb, he suddenly muttered, “Screw this,” and pressed on the gas, speeding right past the building.
“Hey, what’re you doing?” I cried. He needed to let me out so I could find that damn box for him and take all his troubles away. “Hayden?”
“I’m taking you back home,” he growled, turning at the next intersection. “You are not working for her another day. I refuse to let another person I care about get trapped under her controlling thumb.”
My mouth fell open as I watched him grind his teeth and shake his head like a frantic man who’d reached the end of his rope.
“Hayden,” I said softly, reaching out to touch his bicep. “It’s okay. Baby, I’m fine. Really. You know, cleaning her apartment isn’t that bad at all. I’ve had so many worse jobs. And she—”
“No,” he bit out, shaking his head insistently. “The only reason she hasn’t truly terrorized you yet is because she doesn’t realize how much you really mean to me. Plus she’s been too focused on other things, like hiring hitmen to rough up Daffodils, or getting her son’s portfolio stolen from his office, or purposely running her own company into the ground just to spite her stepdaughter, and evading non-dead lawyers who’re trying to blackmail her. But she’ll get back around to you someday. She does with everyone. And I’m not going to allow it. Not this time.”
My smile bloomed as he raged on. “I care for you too, you know.”
He was past hearing me, though. “I’m done,” he spat. “I’m tired of always having to be on my toes, looking for the next attack, bracing for whatever horrifying bomb she’s going to drop next. I want out. I want it to end. I want—dammit.” He stomped on the gas to race through a yellow light. “As soon as I drop you off at your building, I’m finding that damn box and I’m not taking it out of my sight until the police show up to arrest her. Forever.”
I shook my head incredulously. “Oh no, you’re not.”
He sent me an impatient glance. “Yes, I am! I have an idea where she might’ve taken it. If she moved it from her hiding place at the apartment, it’s because she knows it’s no longer safe there, right? So I’m going back to the first place I checked. Her office. But this time—”
“Carmichael, I said no.”
