It could have been one minute or ten when he saw black shoes edge into his circle of vision, just beyond the splatter of drops between his own feet.
"Here," Hamm said as he handed Cade a small white towel. Without looking up, Cade accepted the cloth and numbly wiped moisture from his face and blood from his hands.
"You okay?" Hamm asked.
No, not by a long shot, Cade thought. Unable to bring himself to speak, he only shook his head.
Hamm hesitated before sitting next to Cade and venturing, "Rodriguez mentioned something... about you and Tristan?"
Interpreting that as a question, Cade whispered, "Yeah."
Hamm didn't respond right away, and Cade imagined he had that disappointed look on his face, the one he'd frequently worn when Cade was a teen.
"I'm sorry... " Cade croaked out without looking up. "I know it was wrong, unprofessional. I just... couldn't help it."
"That's not like you."
"I know," Cade rasped, feeling the burn of shame, knowing he'd let Hamm down with this misstep.
"Do you want to talk about it? About the safe house? Or the extraction?"
Feeling unprepared to discuss the subject of his feelings about Tristan or their time at the safe house, Cade focused on his guilt. He'd never been one to talk about his feelings, fearing it made him seem weak or like he was complaining, but he desperately needed to confess his mistake. And Hamm, who'd been a sort of father-figure to him, was one of the people he trusted the most.
Staring at the bloodied towel in his hands, he whispered, "It's my fault."
"What is?"
"That Tristan's missing. He wanted to go with us, to hide in the car while we went into the house so he could see his sister as soon as possible. He should have stayed with Annabeth at the rendezvous point, but he wanted it so much and looked at me with this look... and I gave in because I wanted to make him happy."
Hamm didn't respond at first, but then asked, "What did the others say?"
"Tag said it was a bad idea, but Rodriguez said as long as he stayed hidden in the car, it shouldn't be a problem. No one else said it was too risky, I mean, they didn't argue. So I thought... "
"You thought it would be okay? You agreed to let him ride with you to the house?"
"Yes. I know I shouldn't have. I fucked up," Cade admitted, the words like glass shards in his mouth.
"Cade, this isn't your fault."
"It is."
"If it makes you feel any better, I probably would have allowed it myself. What happened was just too coincidental to predict."
"I should have known. I told Tristan I'd protect him. I promised him, and I didn't," Cade insisted as tears pooled in his eyes. He was pretty sure Hamm had never seen him cry.
He felt the weight of Hamm's stare but dared not look up. Finally, the older man asked, "I've never seen you like this over a case. It seems like you care about Tristan."
"Yeah, I do. A lot." Cade managed to force the words past the lump in his throat as their weight settled over him.
Another pause while Hamm considered. "I can't imagine how you're feeling right now."
Since Cade couldn't articulate it himself, he just nodded.
Hamm laid a hand on his shoulder. "Let Annabeth do her thing. I think there'll be chatter from dissatisfied customers about the canceled auction and broken contracts. With any luck, we'll get a lead soon."
Cade remained unconvinced and didn't react. His muscles hurt now, and so did his brain.
And his heart.
