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It was Trey. His twin. Somebody who knew him better than he knew himself sometimes, and yet, didn’t even know him at all.
Haven’t talked to you in a while. Getting kind of worried.
If his twin was getting‘kind of worried’, then his parents were probably about to lose their shit—not that they’d ever show it. They were too ... collected for that.
But he knew he needed to call them.
He made sure to send texts every couple of weeks, and tried to call once or twice a month, if not more, but the last job had been ... problematic, even aside from landing him in the hospital. The last several assignments had been rough, to be honest. And fuck, he was tired.
The delicate tightrope he walked between the two worlds he lived in was getting harder and harder to maneuver.
“Why, Travis? You had dreams, big ones. Why did you end up down in the dirt?”
Isabel’s voice came to him, a haunting echo as he hauled himself into a sitting position. He didn’t know how she’d worked out what he did. She couldn’t know the details. It wasn’t possible. But she’d had a rough idea and that was bad, in more ways than one.
Rubbing the back of his neck, he eyed the message on his phone for several seconds before shooting his twin back a quick response, promising to call Trey later.
Okay. Would be nice to see you soon, too. We miss you ... all of us.
That last bit had him scowling and he realized he’d definitely gone too long without talking to his mom and dad. One of them, his dad most likely, must have said something to Trey. They may not show their worry to Travis, but they would occasionally check in on him via his twin.
Dragging a hand down his face, he wondered if maybe it reallywastime to get out.
And another voice rose up to haunt him, this time, Miles, this time.
“I want you out ... you’ve done enough.”
He’d been honest when he’d told Miles therewasno enough.
But he was so fucking tired.
And two bad injuries, so close together ... he didn’t think either had happened because he’d gotten lax on the job, but when a guy in his line of work got as tired as he was, mistakes happened.
When those mistakesdidhappen ... well, sometimes, it led to other people being hurt.
The thought sent a spike of cold down his spine and in an instant, he knew Miles was right.
Itwastime to get out.
His phone chirped with another alert.
Although everything on his phone was encrypted—protection, just in case—messages relating to his work had an extra layer of security. He had to do a retinal scan to open the new message and saw that it was from Miles.
I’ll be in town later today. We need to look at your injury, see how you’re healing.
He rubbed a hand over the several days’ worth of beard growth on his face as he considered the message. He didn’t need it looked at, knew damn well why Miles was coming out.
But he needed to tell Miles his decision, and he wanted to see the old man anyway.
We can meet in town.
Miles’s response was agreeable, but Travis knew better than to assume that meant Miles would mind his own damn business. The man never had been good at that. Why would he start now?
“Are you gonna makebabies with the neighbor?”
Brooklyn’s question had Isabel bobbling the buttermilk she was adding to the pancakes, some of it splashing on the counter. She glanced down and estimated it wasn’t enough to make a difference so she added the rest before the girl could startle her—again—and cause another mess.
That girl, she thought wryly, even as an old heartache twisted through her chest. Putting the measuring cup down, she picked up the mixing bowl and turned to face one of her youngest, and the absolutely most precocious, foster kids.
