The girls.
Fallon was at the center of it all.
Not a victim.
A target.
And the bastard behind this wanted Buddy to know it.
Chapter Seventeen
Fallon opened the front door of Buddy’s rental before Keaton could knock a second time. He stood on the porch in his FWC greens, shoulders tight, gaze sweeping her face with that quiet, assessing steadiness she’d come to rely on.
“How ya doing?” he asked.
“Better than Buddy,” she said. “He’s obsessing. Combing through paperwork. Pacing. Mumbling. Everyone else is outside while he’s in his office making himself crazy.”
Keaton ran his fingers through his wavy hair. “He came in hot this afternoon, not only demanding I tell him exactly where you were in the Glades, but that I give you the rest of the day off.”
“You humored him.” She pursed his lips.
“Flying glitter caught everyone’s attention.”
“That was weird—and concerning,” she admitted, leading Keaton through the narrow living room. “There’s beer, soda, and snacks outside. Just waiting on a few stragglers.” The house seemed smaller with each step. She slid open the back door, letting the damp night air spill around them.
“You okay?” Keaton curled his fingers around her forearm.
“Define, okay?” She winced. Keaton was her boss. He might appreciate her sarcasm on occasion, but now was not the time. “It’s been a long few days.”
“Want to talk about it?” He leaned against the wall near the sliding glass doors that led to the patio.
She’d never been one to dump her problems on other people. She certainly didn’t ramble about her relationships with her boss. However, everything about this situation was different. “Buddy’s completely on edge. Like unraveling-on-edge, and I don’t know how to talk him off the ledge.”
“Same way you talked Trent down when some idiot tried to block off Mallor’s landing.” Keaton smiled. “A lot has happened. Buddy’s past case and what happened to your friend have collided in ways we don’t fully understand yet. And with you at the middle of it, well, Buddy’s just doing what any normal human does when someone they care about is being threatened.”
“I don’t know how to help him.” She glanced over her shoulder. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Buddy step into the doorway of his office, then disappear just as quickly as he continued to pace. “Ever since he picked me up at the docks, he’s had this fire in his eyes. I’ve never seen him like this before. Not even when he was working the Ring Finger case.” She caught a glimpse of Buddy, standing in his office, holding a file, rubbing his temple. “It’s killing me to watch him torture himself.”
“He’s been carry guilt and grief a long time, just like you.” Keaton lowered his chin. “You want to help him? Start by showing him how to let go of the past by doing it yourself.”
The words landed on her ears like a slap.
"You've done incredible work. Raised awareness and money. But those weeks leading up to it? The days after? You bury yourself in it, and it’s hard for anyone to really reach you." He titled his head. “The rest of the year? I don’t believe you need me telling you that you lock up that piece, keeping it close, as if it will protect you from ever feeling that rawness again. Only?—”
“It lives there all the time,” she finished his statement. This wasn’t the first time she’d heard this. And he was right. God, she hated that he was right. “I use it like Trent uses his alligators and snakes. It keeps people from getting toon close and seeing all of me.”
“I was going to say it a little differently, but yeah, that’s about it.” Keaton rubbed his chest—that gesture he did when thinking about his late fiancée. "Grief ran my life for years. I didn’t know that’s what I was doing until I nearly lost the best thing that ever happened to me." He shifted his gaze down the hallway. “I can see how much you care about Buddy, and I know he’s got it bad for you. But he’s stuck somewhere between what he wants and what he believes he can have.” Keaton turned. “So are you. Now, what are you going to do about it?”
Fallon sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. This was something she’d normally respond to by handing out a laundry list of reasons why she was so happy with her life. That she was living it exactly the way she wanted. Silas once told her that if she had to explain it, she was not only lying to the world, but to herself.
“You’re not arguing with me.” Keaton smiled. Not a big one. More like a knowing twitch of the corners of his mouth. But she caught it.
“Since when did get so wise?”
“I let go of the past, and my future walked in.”
She laughed. Not hard. But the vibration of it in her throat settled her emotions. “That had to be the corniest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Maybe. But it’s truth.” He reached for the handle on the sliding glass door. “He needs get through the case. We all do. Catch this asshole and put this part behind us. Then, both of you can release all the things that have prevented you from moving forward. Sometimes, all it takes is the right person.” He pulled open the door.
