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“Yeah?”
“Mom used to sing all the time. Do you remember that? She had a tune for you.” Gabriel hums two notes, one after the other. “She had one for all of us. Am I the only one who remembers?”
Mason closes his eyes. He presses his lips together. Takes a breath. Opens his eyes again. “No. You’re not the only one.”
Gabriel’s too unsteady to lean on me, so Scott and Mason walk on either side of him, careful not to put pressure on his ribs. He’s slowly coming back to earth by the time we get downstairs.
Out on the porch, Gabriel startles. He whips his head around and, judging from the wince, immediately regrets it. “Jesus. What was all that?”
“Oh, I don’t know. A concussion that you haven’t recovered from? An enormous adrenaline spike? Could have been anything.” Mason’s SUV, unlike mine, is parked near the front steps. He and Scott help Gabriel into the back seat. “Next time, let someone who hasn’t just jumped out of a building go after the bad guy.”
Gabriel leans back on the headrest and closes his eyes. “I’m here for Elise. Not any bad guy.”
I get in next to him. Mason climbs in the front and leans out the window to tell Scott what to do with the SUV I drove here.
“It’ll be back just after you,” his paralegal-turned-driver says.
Mason rolls up the window, then curses under his breath.
“Not in front of the lady,” Gabriel sings. He doesn’t open his eyes.
So he doesn’t see the feds bringing my dad out the front doors in handcuffs. He looks worse than he did when I got here. Slightly flushed and overheated. Dad looks at all the cars in the drive.
He spots Mason’s SUV and narrows his eyes.
A shiver clutches at my spine. He can’t see me. The windows are tinted. And even if he could, it wouldn’t matter. He knows I’m here.
That’s not why it’s so unsettling.
It’s because I’m not looking at the end of this story. My dad might feel off, but that won’t stop him from escaping. He has backup plans on top of backup plans. I helped him make some of them. One of the feds escorting him to the police car will be in his pocket through either bribery or blackmail.
My father pauses long enough that the agent tugs at his arm, his eyes still locked on mine.
That’s when he smiles.
The chill spreads through my stomach.
It sits there, heavy and frozen, on the drive back to Mason’s place. Gabriel stays close, the heat of his body wrapped around me, but it refuses to melt.
The trip up to Mason’s penthouse is easier, at least. Gabriel’s better on his feet. The elevators let us out into the sound of…
Laughter. And The Office on the TV.
It’s Remy. “How have I never watched this show?”
“We always pick Downton Abbey,” Charlotte teases. “You’re just too devoted to watch anything else.”
“I was wrong. I admit it.”
We cross from the foyer into the huge living and dining area in the middle of the penthouse.
“I don’t think you were that wrong.”
Nate’s deadpan comment is followed by a beat of silence.
Then Lydia bursts out laughing. “You’re an ass.”
“Lydia!” Charlotte scolds her like they’re sisters. “Nate is not an ass. Don’t be unkind.”
