I answer Brandon’s question robotically. “Yeah. Let me know if you need anything more than the occasional page flip. If not, I will await your report.”
“The only thing I need from you is for you to leave everything where it is. The rest is on me.” His tone changes halfway through his reply. “Use the next twenty-four hours wisely, Grayson, and not solely for sleep.”
Although his shady tone piques my suspicion, I’m too focused on Macy’s pained expression to pay it much attention. “Consider it done.” Before I hang up, I stare at the screen and say, “Thanks for the help, punk.”
“Anytime.”
After ending our chat, I dump my phone onto the only inch of the coffee table not taken up by files before joining Macy in the poky kitchen. Lines etch on her forehead as she breathes slowly and shallowly.
“Are you okay? You’re looking a little unwell.”
With her hand on her chest, she scrunches up her nose, grimacing more. “I think I’m having a heart attack.”
Ipfftoff her worry with a chuckle. “You’re too young to have a heart attack.” While guiding her to the chair where she sat earlier, I say, “It is most likely heartburn. The tomato paste on the pizza was a little acidic. I’m even suffering a bit ofindigestion, and I didn’t gorge down slices like my stomach isn’t currently as squashed as my bladder.”
The confused crinkle in her nose is adorable. You’d swear she hasn’t read a single pregnancy book, or that she isn’t also the oldest sibling in her family. I guess it is understandable. Kendall is her only sibling, and not all families are as close to their mothers as my siblings and me are.
My brothers and I were our mother’s support system during her pregnancy with our only sister, Darcy, in her late thirties. We doted on her for the entire nine months, and we were present for her delivery.
I shift my focus back to Macy when her groan rumbles through my chest. I hate her pained expression more than anything.
“Do you have Tums?” Before she can answer me, I fully enter the kitchen and open the cabinet above the refrigerator. That’s where Alex kept the heartburn medication when Regan was pregnant with Kailany.
The cupboard is empty—as are all the cupboards in the kitchen.
“I haven’t had time to shop.” Macy follows me into an equally empty bathroom, her steps silent in the quiet hum of the evening. “For anything.” Her grimace switches to a smile when I twist back to face her. “Housekeeping replaces the body wash and conditioner once a week, and I haven’t needed anything else.”
“Yet.” My jaw unhinges, shocked she’s so unprepared for how greatly her life is about to change.
Darcy’s arrival flipped our family’s life on its head—in a good way. I’d rather you keep that last part between us. Darcy is already a handful, and it will worsen if she ever catches wind of her brothers’ secret admirations.
I fetch the plastic cup that came with our pizza, fill it with water, and hand it to Macy. “It probably won’t do anything, but it may water down the tomato paste enough to stop your chest from feeling like it is on fire.”
She downs the entire glass in one hit before screwing up her nose. I know it hasn’t worked, but since it’s 3 a.m., I pretend not to see her pain. “Now back to bed.”
“I’m not tired. That catnap refilled the tank.” She walks into the living room, her steps noticeably lighter. “I was thinking I could help you identify the location of the infrared?—”
“Don’t touch that,” I shout when she goes to pick up the image I was working on before contacting Brandon.
She startles, and I hate myself for it. I’d never hurt her. I don’t raise my hand to women—ever. Not even those who break the law in the most inhumane ways.
I’m about to remind Macy, but her response makes the pizza I ate feel like rocks in my stomach. “Sorry… old habits die hard.” She grimaces as if she said too much before she shuffles toward the bedroom. “Maybe I should try to get some more sleep? It might make me less jittery.” After a faint “Night,” she enters the bedroom, closing the door behind her.
For several long minutes, I look in the direction she went before I devote my attention to the television. Seconds pass in silence, but my deliberation is nowhere near as long as it deserves. “Once you’ve finished uploading everything, I need you to delete what you just saw and anything you see me do over the next few hours.”
The television sound bar flickers for half a second before the screen returns to its original setting.
5
GRAYSON
Mid-morning light filters through the curtains, heating the living room with the warm rays of spring. I’ve been up for hours, sorting through a different set of files than the ones that usually keep me awake at all hours of the night, both inside and outside of the apartment.
I’ve been reviewing the cases Macy has worked on over the past three years, as well as the agents she collaborated with. I have reduced the list of potential suspects regarding her actions last night to a select few, with my name being the only one I have confidently eliminated.
Macy has never flinched with me. Not once. So whatever happened must have been after our last joint assignment.
I slip a recently updated file under a stack of many when the bathroom door creaks open. The bathroom’s aging pipes have rattled many times over the past five hours, but this is the first time Macy has gone to the living room rather than the bedroom after using facilities. The glass of water seemed to help her heartburn, though it wreaked havoc on her bladder.
