I went back into the house and pulled a coffee mug out of his cabinet, making a drink for myself. I stared down at his kitchen floor, remembering the blood, the stitches, the guns. The way Sage gasped for air as he bled between my fingers as Foster paced the living room. I remembered all of it.
Foster and Sage stayed on the deck, where I eventually rejoined them after my pulse had slowed back to something close to normal. I sat down and closed my eyes, squeezing them shut until I stopped seeing blood.
“I don’t care if this is your life. But I don’t want it to be mine.”
“Ronan, I’m sorry,” Foster said, and I believed him.
“I just want to bring Kevin home.”
“Tuesday,” Foster said. “Give me the weekend to make sure things are okay.”
“You won’t even be here this weekend,” I reminded him. “You said you were going away.”
“I have someone on it,” Sage said.
“What does that even mean?”
“Do you really want to know?” he countered.
I probably didn’t.
“Why next week?” I asked. “Why not now?”
“We just handled some things yesterday,” Foster said carefully. “I want to make sure everything is as settled as we think it is. I’ll be honest, Ronan; there is still a threat, but I don’t think it’s leveled at us anymore.”
“Why not?”
“Do you really want to know?” Sage asked again with a sigh.
“When it comes to my life? Yes.”
“We think the main target of all of this is my…boss,” Foster explained. “Everything that’s happened revolved around getting to him or trying to weaken him.”
“The issues surrounding us have been…” Sage licked his lips. “Eliminated.”
“Eliminated,” I parroted.
“Pretend that means whatever you want it to mean,” he said.
“So the danger has been mitigated,” Foster continued, giving me an earnest, if not apologetic look. “If everything is fine, Sage and I are leaving for the weekend tomorrow, and we’ll be back on Sunday or Monday and then Kevin can come home on Tuesday.”
“I owe him a Valentine’s date, you know.” As I spoke, Foster grimaced. “You can pay for it.”
Sage smirked. “Take him for a nice surf and turf.”
“I’ll take him to Paris if that’s where he wants to go,” I said. I ran my fingers through my hair and banged by head against the back of the wooden chair with a sigh. “Tuesday.”
It seemed like a lifetime away, but I also knew having an end date would make things better. I pulled out my phone and texted Kevin.
Me: Book a flight home Tuesday. Earliest you can.
Kevin: Yes, Ronan.
I set my phone on the arm of the chair and returned my attention to my coffee, an unwelcome thought flittering into my brain. I frowned.
“What?” Foster asked, clearly picking up on my apprehension.
I didn’t want to ask the question.
