“Just trying to put together this appeal for Holden.” He presses his fingers into his temple. “Delilah has big hopes for it. But I don’t know if anything’ll change, considering he pled guilty to the original manslaughter charges. I’m not as sure-footed in criminal law, so I start second-guessing myself. I don’t want to do wrong by our brother.”
“Seriously? Delilah’s still sticking by him? I guess I misjudged her. She seems so hippie dippy when we’re at The Human Being, you know.”
Flynn rubs the back of his neck, stretching. It’s obvious he’s been sitting for too long. “Yeah, I don’t know what’s going on between those two. Not sure what can be, under the circumstances. And to top it off, I’m having paralegal drama. Hey, if you hear of any good ones looking for work, send them my way. I may be hiring.”
“Is Jasmine leaving or something?”
He looks away. I’ve long thought there was something going on between the two of them. But Flynn is probably the most private of all of us foster brothers. That’s saying a lot with guys like me, Zane, and Maksim running around.
His shoulders drop. “It’s a long story that I really don’t feel like getting into right now. Anyway, take care of yourself, bro. I’ll file the paperwork first thing Monday morning. Hopefully, these documents will provide the closure you need to finally find happiness.” He pats my shoulder.
No fucking way.“Thanks, Flynn. I love you, bro.”
“Love you, too, you fucking tank. By the way, we need to go fishing again real soon. Might as well take advantage of this unusually warm December weather before the snowfinally kicks in. I’m thinking we’ll take the horses up to Fugitive Lake, make a day of it. You in?”
“Yep, I’ll text you the weekends I don’t have the kids, and we’ll make a plan.”
“Sounds good.”
Outside, I put my brown cowboy hat on and head for my truck. Turning the key in the ignition, I’m greeted by the blaring angst of “Hemorrhage” by Fuel. I can’t think of a more fitting song as I grip the steering wheel, staring into the forest and knowing with my entire being that it’s over.
There’s nothing I can do to save it, to save us. There hasn’t been for a long time. I just refused to admit it.
As I drive away from Flynn’s office, countless memories wash over me. I have to let them go. Forget about everything I thought my life was for the past nine years and what I thought it could be moving forward. What did I expect anyway?
I had an angel dropped into my lap. I don’t know why. I should’ve known I couldn’t keep her. She was too good for me, too smart and refined. I should’ve known better.
But I was stubborn and stupid—the worst combination. And everything I did to hold onto her more tightly, from the arguments to my lucrative overseas work to pursuing her now, has only pushed us further apart.
Izzie’s many months ahead of me in this realization. That means months of me living in a fantasy world ruled by the hope of something that was never on the table. What a fool I’ve been.
Chapter Ten
IZZIE
Saying goodbye to the kids so publicly removes my excuse when Richard and the other curators and librarian come around inviting me to go out with them for happy hour at Lucky’s. With every part of my being, I want to say no, but I also need to keep up appearances and maintain the status quo. That’s about the only thing Wolfe has emphasized all week.
I don’t know what he’s ultimately planning to do. Although I do know that some of the new security protocols he’s implementing, including background checks and digital badges, already have the docents up in arms. Many of the docents are older and have worked at the museum for years. They don’t see the need for change, and it annoys them. But I wonder if there’s more to their angst.
I also wonder if my employees will discuss it at Lucky’s tonight. Wait until I start enforcing the new artifact access protocols. This could lead to a full-on mutiny, and maybe a better idea of who’s involved in what. Hopefully, Wolfe already knows.
“I’ve got to close up shop. But I’ll meet you at Lucky’s in afew. Why don’t you guys head over and get a table.” Richard and Roger nod, and they lead the way for the others. As I watch them out my office window heading towards their cars, I don’t notice any out-of-the-ordinary behavior. I wonder what Wolfe and his crew have discovered so far.
I hear a firm knock on my office door. “Come in.”
It opens, and Rutger enters. “Good afternoon, ma’am.” Wolfe must’ve instructed all of the guys to be polite on the job because Rutger hasn’t addressed me this way since very early on in Afghanistan when we were still professional acquaintances. This is also the first time he’s worked security this week. It’s hard to imagine a trained killer like him being happy working small-town museum security.
“Can I talk to you for a moment?” The blond bad boy with rugged, unshaven cheeks asks. I nod in reply, motioning for him to sit down. He shuts the door behind him.
I plop into the chair behind my desk, packing my laptop bag. I hate looking Rutger in the face. Instead, I stay busy. “Feel free to talk while I pack up.” My voice sounds rude, even though I’m going for matter-of-fact.
“The boss man wanted me to tell you he’ll be at Lucky’s tonight. Part of the plan,” Rutger says with a wink. If he notices my aloofness, it doesn’t phase him. “We’ll all be over there. And there’s been a slight shift in the narrative.”
I look up from the desk I’m now tidying. “Yes?”
“Instead of going for your typical estranged couple who are polite and indifferent to each other, we’ve decided the couple who’s still in love but won’t admit it is a better look.”
I sit back, shocked equally by the message and the messenger. Shaking my head, I’m about to speak. But he cuts me off.
