Fix scoffed. “What do you suggest I do? Break into his apartment and force him to let me break his curses for free?”
“It’s not a break-in if you’re following protocol,” Midas said. Fix stared until he rolled his eyes. “Hart would be ashamed.”
“Just spill.”
“Cursebreaker rulebook, section fourteen, paragraph nine,” he said. “The law allows cursebreakers entrance to private residences against occupants’ wishes if the entrance serves the purpose of keeping the subject safe and protected from curses.”
“Never heard of it.”
“Amelia Marie Raynard,” Midas said. “Three years ago she was cursed to repel anyone who came close to her. She liked it so she never reported it. Until her nieces came to visit, ran at her to give her a hug, hit the curse, and got tossed across the backyard. Ended up at the hospital. Hospital reported to PUMA, PUMA called the cursebreaking team. Amelia locked herself in her house, refusing them entrance. PUMA allowed for a forced entry and cursebreaking on the grounds of her being a danger to her surroundings. Rulebook was revised after that to include the new rule.”
“You keep track of rulebook revisions?” Fix asked, incredulous both at the amount of words Midas just said and the fact that he knew the new rule at all.
“Please.” Midas waved dismissively again. “I know people.”
Fix wanted to ask what people. As far as he knew, Midas would appreciate a curse like Amelia’s for himself, but that thought was quickly overridden by the realization of what Midas had just told him.
“I can go in?”
“Yes,” Midas said before he got out of the car, rounding the front of the truck and heading toward the entrance of the building.
Fix widened his eyes and followed him, jogging to catch up and grabbing him by the arm. Midas looked down at it with a dissatisfied curl to his lip and Fix hastily let go, watching Midas fix the nonexistent wrinkles in the leather.
“What are you doing?” Fix demanded.
“Speeding along the process.”
“He could be in there,” Fix said. “And even if he’s not, he could have left his dog there.”
“Give the puppy a treat to distract it.”
Fix snorted. “It’s definitely not a puppy. Think more along the lines of Wren’s idea of what is adorable.”
Midas tamed a glossy lock that was floating around his face as he weighed his words. “It’s white? Blue eyes? Has a chunk out of its ear?”
Fix was surprised. “How did you…”
“And your boy is blond? Long hair?”
Fix didn’t want to react to Liam being called ‘his boy’ but it was impossible not to. It felt so right that Fix could almost taste the words on his tongue, could imagine that it was reality. His chest puffed out. His shoulders squared. His hands flexed with the need to hold Liam close.
His boy. Fuck, but how good did that sound?
He could try to fool himself into thinking this thing with Liam was purely professional, but he knew himself. Beneath the genuine need to help him there was more.
He’d spent years learning what made himself tick, and having someone to cherish, protect, and pamper was it. All he’d ever wanted. Every failed attempt at a relationship in the past wasa personal failure he took onto himself. He lived in if-onlys, regretted so much, and hoped for the future secretly.
Maybe once the curses were broken something could blossom?
Gwen was right, the best things were worth fighting for, and Fix just had a feeling about Liam that he desperately wanted to explore if Liam felt the same.
Could he ever?
Midas waved a hand in front of his face and Fix snapped back to reality, swallowing past the yearning. “Yes. That’s him.”
“They left before you got here, haven’t come back yet.”
“Why were you here?” he asked, stressing the words with his hands.
