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se idea than stealing a car from a thief.
The theft itself was uneventful. The car had been impounded after waiting shipment back to Ossovia. It had been easy to impersonate a government official and commandeer it. It was a lovely ride, but once he had it, he wasn’t sure what to do with it.
That was the problem with spontaneous, impulsive acts. They left a mark; they led you astray and for all their daring and momentary thrill. They didn’t fill the need inside you, just left you rubbed raw and hollow.
He drove the Merc around for a week, had it valued, and decided he’d have it delivered to Lenny. He’d already returned her donation money. This would be a cherry on top. She could sell it and tip the cash into D4D. That only seemed fair.
That was before the weekend magazine article showed up. After he knew about the “Frauds of a Feather” story, he went from hollow to despairing. He’d made sure Lenny’s name didn’t appear in any of coverage of Cookie Jar’s downfall, but this photo story had slipped under his radar.
It was a month since he’d seen her. A month of sleeping badly, snapping at people, canceling meetings, and forgetting to eat. One morning he came to work in jeans and a tee because he couldn’t be bothered to iron a dress shirt. That freaked Zeke out, but since Cal was expected any day, Zeke, like everyone else, avoided him.
Everyone else, that is, except tiny Cousin Amelia. She drew him a picture. A horse dragon-like creature with wings and claws that breathed fire. It was purple with pink spots, a spikey yellow tail, and red eyes.
Amelia really got him.
“Nice dragon horse thing,” Cal said, when he saw it pinned to Halsey’s cork board the day he got back.
Cal had a tan. He looked like he’d regressed about five years or snuck in some plastic surgery.
“Vacationing works for you. How’s Fin?”
Cal smiled. “As soon as I can change her status from One Night Wife to every-night wife, she’ll be perfection. How’s Lenny?”
“Her books check out.”
“You think I’m asking about her books? Zeke briefed me. Congratulations on the Cookie Jar sting. That was big-game hunting and quite an achievement for a man who doesn’t think he has any fieldwork skills. I’m sorry I missed the fun.”
Halsey wouldn’t call it fun, not now, but there’d been moments of rampant joy where he felt his whole life had been transformed. “I fucked up with Lenny. Didn’t end well.”
“Do you love her?”
“It’s got nothing to do with that.”
“It’s got everything to do with that.”
Halsey took his reading glasses off and rubbed his eyes. “This can’t possibly be love.” It was. It had to be. And it sucked the life out of him. “It feels like I died, and I’m walking around in my ghost form.”
“Ah. That’s the version where you think you’ve broken your world so badly the rest of your life is going to be wondering how you can still hear and see and think and breathe.”
Jesus. That’s exactly how he felt. As if he’d spied a priceless object that was his best chance for future happiness and had been too cheap to pay enough for it. Only to find it was one of a kind, he’d lost it forever, and the only emotion he’d ever feel was a fathomless, aching loss and remorse.
“I’m toxic for Lenny.” They were always going to end, and he’d always known it. His ineptitude at the gala was in part knowing with a savage certainty that he needed to force her to walk away or risk wrecking her life by holding on to her till the end of time.
And he’d wrecked it anyway.
He needed to move on because there was no going back.
“Lenny had a problem with toxicity before you ever met her.”
He frowned at Cal. “That’s not fair.” But it was true. Lenny was compromised. It was the whole reason he’d been able to be honest with her from the beginning.
“Her chances of starting over in this city with her name were a million to one, and that was before her brother overdosed on stupid. She told Fin she’s thinking about abandoning D4D, changing her name, and moving to Florida with her mom and sister.”
Who knew it was possible for a ghost to feel pain and for that pain to be excruciating?
He needed Cal to leave so he could do something about it. He picked up his letter opener and ran his thumb over the figure embossed on it. He couldn’t hurt more if he stabbed his vital organs repeatedly with its pointy end.
“No one sells the idea of taking a risk like you do.” Cal quirked a brow. “Except me. Lenny can change her name and move away and start her life over. And you can put all this heartache behind you and settle at your desk and be comfortable.”
